Previously...

"I think it's because Sherlock knows we're all in the same danger, because we're all his associates," Molly said hesitantly.

"That's exactly it."

Every head swiveled toward the kitchen, every set of eyes opened in shock at the sight that greeted them: Sherlock awake and alert, standing next to Mrs Hudson with over an hour of daylight left.

"Molly, if you don't mind, the curtains, please?"

At Sherlock's somewhat querulous request, she jumped to her feet, hurrying over to close the blackout shutters and draw the room-darkening curtains against the weak daylight that remained. Because no matter how weak it might be, it would only take a few rays to turn Sherlock into a pillar of fire - at least, she thought that was the case. She felt a little worm of resentment; who knew what other secrets he was hiding from her, from everyone?

Then she felt a tendril of emotion coming from him - comfort, apology, and love all twined together - and her anger evaporated. Either she trusted him or she didn't, and she had to trust that his reasons for keeping this a secret until now were good ones.

While she did her best to silently communicate that understanding back to him, Mrs. Hudson drew the other curtains and Greg gave voice to the question that was utmost in their minds. "How are you even awake? I thought that just a Nosferatu thing!" Then, to Mrs. Hudson, "Did you know he could do this..day-walking thing?"

"I have very few secrets from Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said drily as Molly switched on the table lamp. A bit superfluous since Mary had already turned on two other lights, but Molly needed the darkness completely banished. She wanted to be able to see Sherlock's face, to read his expression as well as feel whatever emotions he was willing to share with her.

Sherlock shrugged as he strolled into the sitting room. "Nope," he said, popping the final p as he slouched into his leather chair, reaching behind him to pull Molly closer. "Some very old Vampires can manage it as well...and sometimes all it takes is an exceptional mind, Garrett."

"It's Greg, which you know, and fine, don't tell us," the detective inspector huffed. "So what's all this about, then? Molly told us about this Brook chap, does he know about us?"

"He knows you're associates of mine and that's enough to put you all in danger," Sherlock replied. He reached out and tugged Molly closer. She resisted for a few seconds; Greg, John and Mary all exchanged bemused stares as the two engaged in a silent battle of sorts, one which Sherlock won only when his expression went from haughty demand to beseeching. With a small sigh Molly finally capitulated and joined him, allowing him to draw her onto his lap and settle into the crook of his arm. "Not to mention that he seems keen to take my brother Mycroft down."

"Sorry, but why is this is a problem?" John asked. "Let the two of them duke it out and then you swoop in and pick up the pieces. Maybe take your brother's place on the council or whatever it is you call your ruling body, start getting things done right."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "John, trust me, if I were to stroll in and start spouting revolutionary ideas at the council - which, by the way, is actually called the Conclave, there's another tightly guarded Vampire secret I've given out, no need to thank me - I guarantee it wouldn't end well for me. And since I don't fancy being burnt to ash after being staked out in the sun, I think I'll pass on that sort of 'opportunity'. Besides," he added before anyone could cut in, "even if my brother's position in the government were as 'minor' as he tries to claim, they'd never accept me as his successor, they know too much about my rebellious nature."

"If that's the case, then what the hell are we wasting our time for?" John demanded angrily. "What, have you just been playing with us all this time, using us to while away the tedium of immortality?"

Molly sucked in a breath, darting a look at Sherlock. His face remained impassive, but she could feel the tension in his body beneath hers. "John, this isn't about the revolution," she said, desperate to ease the sudden tension in the room. "It's about Richard Brook, about the threat he is to us all, isn't that right, Sherlock?"

"It's about both," he said, holding John's gaze. "And no, John, I haven't been using you for anything so puerile as 'easing my tedium', I'm not a child."

"So what have you been using us for, then?" Greg demanded. Both he and John looked ready to commit murder, but when Molly tried to speak out again, Sherlock dug his fingers into her wrist and she subsided. Suddenly her Vampire lover seemed more terrifying than Brook and Mycroft combined, and all she could do was hope that he could assuage all their fears.

"I've been using you the same way you've been using me," Sherlock said coldly, holding Greg's stare as he spoke. "To forge a better future for us all. Humankind has proven itself utterly incapable of managing on its own, and Vampires, for all their long-term planning skills, have demonstrated just how inept they are in the short term. The plain and simple truth of the matter is that only by working together can both races survive. Which is why Vampires like Brook need to be stopped."

"What does his vendetta against Mycroft have to do with saving the world?" Mary asked. She was shifting about uneasily, until John settled his arm around her shoulder. She didn't exactly relax in his hold, but she did still her nervous movements.

"Because Vampires like Brook don't want to coexist even in as unbalanced a manner as we currently do," Sherlock said, meeting her gaze directly. "I've done a little digging over the past 24 hours and what I've discovered...let's just say he's in favor of a return to the immediate aftermath of the Great Takeover. Mass exterminations. The bulk of humanity kept in concentration camps. No more self-policing or even the limited autonomy you currently enjoy. You think things are bad now? Imagine if Brook and his ilk were to eliminate the more moderate voices currently dominating the Conclave. Including - and yes, I appreciate the irony - my brother Mycroft."

He turned his gaze back to Molly; laying his hand across her stomach he continued softly, "Brook has no use for Nosferatu. His clan and their allies don't trust anyone who isn't a full Vampire - and they especially mistrust anyone who can go about during the daylight that isn't directly under their control."

Silence greeted his words, silence that stretched for long minutes. Molly's stomach churned with nausea as her mind filled with horrifying images of what life under such a regime could be like. What would happen to her child if Brook came to power? Would she even live long enough to give birth if he did? Or worse, would he keep them both alive to use against Sherlock?

"Molly."

She looked at Sherlock, brow furrowed in confusion, then realized why he'd said her name; she was trembling, shaking, digging her fingers into the palms of her hands and biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. He wiped the scarlet droplets away with the pad of his thumb, then kissed her, uncaring of their audience. "I will not allow anything to happen to you or our child. Do you trust me?"

She nodded, ignoring the mutter of "Not sure I do" from Greg. "Then trust me when I tell you that the best way I can protect you - all of you - is to let Brook think he's getting what he wants from me."

Molly gasped. "No! Sherlock, you can't mean - !"

He nodded. "Yes. I'm going to pretend to go along with his plans. And to prove I'm really on his side...I'm going to have to betray the rebellion."

A/N: I know, I know, it's been ages. Sorry. Mea culpa. Also mea slow-a. But I have finally got the glimmering of a plot to finish this fic up so hopefully things won't be so slow in the future.