Molly was the only one who knew Sherlock was alive. She knew how he had survived and where he was hiding. She had heard that Jim put a pistol in his mouth. But his body wasn't recovered, so no one knew for sure.

As soon as she had gotten everything in order for Sherlock and his false suicide, she was ready to go home and put that bad day behind her. Having to pretend to cry even though she knew the truth had been exhausting. She felt a brief but sharp pang of sadness at Jim's death, but it passed quickly when she remembered how awful he really was. As she pulled her purse from her locker, she saw a box and an envelope resting almost coyly in the corner. Her name was scrolled on the envelope in jet black ink.

She let curiosity get the better of her as she opened the envelope. Inside was a letter written on heavy ivory stationary, personalized with the initials JM. Jim. She almost didn't bother reading it, but she gave into temptation. Jim's handwriting, at least she assumed it was his, was tight and formal, almost professional in its perfection.

My dearest Molly,

This is my proper goodbye to you. By the time you read this, I'll have gone into hiding. Don't believe anyone or anything that says I'm dead. That's a lie. I am still very much alive.

I know that you hate me, and you have every right to. But please read this. There are things I need to tell you, and I never got the chance.

The most important thing is this: Whatever you may think of me, please know that I was absolutely in no way with you to get close to Sherlock. I was with you because, quite simply, I wanted you. I will always be attracted to you for you. I never would have ended our relationship, though I don't blame you for it. You are such a wonderful woman, and you must have agonized over what I do.

I have gone to extreme lengths to make sure you are safe and protected, especially in the event of a backlash. I didn't count you amongst the ranks of Sherlock's friends, even though you are one of his dearest, because I can't bear the thought of you at the wrong end of an assault rifle. Nor could I live with myself if you were ever harmed in my name.

Nothing I could ever say will be able to prove this, but you gave me the greatest gift. You showed me that I am capable of caring about another person. Though I know I will never care for anyone but you. You may never believe how important you actually are, but never forget that you made a place in my heart when that was considered an impossible feat.

I want to give you something special to remember that, no matter what happened, I care for you. Please keep it, Molly. I went to great lengths to obtain it. And I did so legally, I might add. It is a gold and ruby pendant worn by a lady in the court of Queen Elizabeth I. When I saw it up for auction, I knew it was meant for you. When you wear it, do so with pride at knowing you are the only woman ever to warm my cold heart.

Darling Molly, I am so utterly and completely sorry for hurting you and deceiving you. It was never my intention. Though you have every right not to believe me, I hope that, in time, you will see that I never meant to do this to you. If we ever meet again, I hope you forgive me.

Ciao,

Jim

Molly sat stunned for a moment before reading the letter one more time. Her heart began doing back flips, and she began wondering if Jim was being honest. She opened the crimson velvet jewelry box to see the pendant he bought her. She sighed. It was a truly spectacular piece of jewelry. She'd never have occasion to wear it.

She closed the lid and shoved the box and the letter in her bag. It could be left until later for her to mull over. In the meantime, she longed to get back to her flat and soak in a hot bath.

As she slid into the warm, soapy water, she began thinking about Jim's letter to her. He said he had been keeping her protected, and she wondered if someone had been watching her. The thought sent a chill through her body, and she sunk deeper into her bath, relieved that she locked all her doors. Though she doubted that would stop anyone associated with Jim Moriarty.

She remembered John's reassuring words that Jim could fool anyone with his charm, and she didn't feel so bad for falling prey to him. Then she got back to wondering if Jim had meant what he said in his letter. She didn't have a single reason to believe a word of it, but she found herself searching for truth as she reread the letter.

As far as she knew, he was gone. There was no way to ask him. And even if there was, he could still have lied. While she clutched the pendant in her hand, she began to wonder if he had gotten it legally, as he had said. She doubted everything about the Jim she had known. But he had spared her from the possibility of being killed. He had actually, in his twisted little way, tried to keep her out of danger. It was hard to reconcile that fact with the image she had of Jim Moriarty, the merciless lord of crime who had fooled her and so many others.

As she went to shove the letter and the pendant deep into a drawer, she realized how much she wished none of it had happened, that Jim was still just Jim from IT. She couldn't believe that she still wanted him in her life after everything he had done, but she did. And the thought actually turned her stomach when she realized she had fallen for him.

She took the pendant out of its box again and held it against her skin. It felt cold and reminded her of Jim, which made her laugh. He was a cold-hearted snake of a man, but he had actually been really good to her before it all went wrong.

Was she actually justifying her feelings for him? She felt like she had to because of what he was. And it made her crazy that she could still care about him. And if she ever saw him again, maybe she would forgive him. Maybe.