A/N: It's been over a year since I've updated. I bet you guys thought I gave up on you, didn't you? I took time off from this story because I just didn't think I could do it justice. But, I think I have grown as a writer since the last time I posted for this story and am very determined to finish it. Here goes nothing.

Sherlock stood to retrieve the rocks and notes from the floor among the glass but one was snatched out of his hands before he could comprehend what had just happened. Bringing Molly's note to her he watched as Irene stood by the fireplace, blood running down her hand from the shards of glass that had splayed out upon her letter; she didn't even seem to notice. He noticed her lips curve into a smile as her eyes darted along the page.

"Well?" Molly questioned, still holding her letter unopened in her hands.

"Nothing I didn't already know," she answered, letting her letter crumble in her left hand while she ran a perfectly polished fingernail over Billy the Skull with her right.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" Sherlock spit coldly.

She snapped her head in his direction, "Why not? Here," she tossed the wadded up paper into his lap, "read a nice story before bedtime, mum and dad. If you'll excuse me I'd like to get some sleep."

Molly wanted to follow her in concern but she felt Sherlock halt her attempts to get up. "Sherlock, she's obviously upset. I should go and check on her."

Reading over Irene's letter he began to shake his head, "No, I think she needs to be alone right now, Molly."

Frustrated, Molly snatched the letter out of Sherlock's hands.

Irene,

You're in too deep. Playing nice with Sherlock and Miss Molly is going to get you nowhere. You're a walking target. Watch your back, because I will stab it.

XOXO

Jim

Slumping further into Sherlock's side Molly sighed as she looked at her letter. Opening the envelope she noticed that it felt heavier than the last one. How much could he have to say? Ripping the seal a small metal object made a light thumping sound as it fell from the paper. Getting off the chair she noticed that it was a key. But a key to what?

Handing the key off to Sherlock to inspect she unfolded the note and read aloud.

Molly,

How have you been darling? Enjoying Irene's company I hope. Good for you on not having hard feelings about your boy toy seeing her naked and all. I can't say that I could be so okay with the situation. But, I'm getting off topic! I bet you're just eaten up with anticipation to what the key goes to aren't you? Well, I'll include an address at the bottom for you, no worries. Sherlock won't have to go into super sleuth mode on this one. I just can't wait for you to see my little surprise for you.

Until next time,

Jim

Dread pooled into Molly's stomach and chest. Why couldn't this all just be over? Tying her hair up into a bun Molly called off the address to Sherlock. Of course he automatically recognized it as the address to a storage locker across town. Slipping on her shoes and grabbing her jacket she set off to follow him out the door.

"Molly, I think that you should stay here."

She looked at him as though he had just said the stupidest thing known to man, "You can't be serious?"

"I can and I am," he answered, "I don't know how dangerous this could be."

Crossing her arms defensively she answered, "Forget it, I'm coming with you. No matter where I am I could be in danger. At least if I'm with you I have a better chance of surviving. Besides, I highly doubt he wants us dead just yet. So stop being so thick and let's go."

He sighed angrily, "Molly, when did you become so stubborn?"

"The day I met you," she deadpanned as she brushed past him to walk down the stairs.

He couldn't help but smirk.

Rushing down the stairs behind her he quickly dialed his brother's number. "Mycroft, Moriarty has sent us an address. Molly and I are going there now. I need you to make sure your men keep an eye on the flat, we're leaving The Woman here." He could hear his brother's protests on the other end but hung up before he could get into a fight with him.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Hailing a cab they made it across town in a faster time than Molly had anticipated and began to search the property for the correct numbered lot.

"234, 235," she could hear Sherlock mumble ahead of her, "238! Found it, Molly. I texted Lestrade, he should be bringing backup soon but I think we should go on ahead and check it out."

"Right," she retorted, handing him the key.

Not sure what she was going to be face to face with soon she took a few quick breaths and braced herself. But nothing could prepare her for what was on the other side of that lock. Pushing the door open Sherlock quickly located a light switch revealing what was in the room. Papers surrounded them; papers about Sherlock, Molly, John, everyone that had ever been connected to Sherlock Holmes ever. In the middle of the room sat a television on a stand and a single DVD player. A sticky note on the front of the television stand read, "PRESS PLAY". So they did.

What happened next made Molly want to punch Moriarty, punch a wall, and then throw up; in that particular order. Moriarty appeared on the screen, flashing them that winning smile that had won her over when he was "Jim from IT" and he began to speak to them.

"Hello there my lovelies, it's just grand to see you. Well, I can't actually see you right now, but you get the point. I'm so glad that you've successfully found one of my little hideaways; good job on you two. But, I suppose you want to know why you're here. It's because I want to give you a little something. Never say that I'm not a generous bloke."

The image of Moriarty was suddenly replaced by Tom. Well, it looked like Tom but it also didn't look like Tom. His hair was slicked back and he didn't wear a coat or a scarf. He was looking around him suspiciously when Moriarty entered the picture beside of him.

'Take a seat, Tom,' Moriarty requested.

Tom did as he was asked, 'Whattaya want, Jim? I left a poker match for this.'

Moriarty's smile grew sly, 'As I recall, you owe me a favor. A big favor.'

Tom's smile suddenly mirrored Moriarty's, "Ohh, you're finally cashing in on that favor, huh? Alright, alright, whatever it is, I'll do it. Whatever can get me back to my game.'

'I was hoping you would say that,' he fished into his jacket pocket and retrieved a photograph of Molly that had obviously been taken from her flat.

'I know this girl,' Tom snapped his finger and looked at the picture, 'she was friends with that freak who threw himself off of that hospital.'

'That she was….or should I say is? He didn't die, it was all a ruse.'

'No kidding? Well, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, you're supposed to be dead too.' Tom laughed.

'Let's just keep that quiet it for now, eh?" Moriarty winked at him. 'This is where you come in. I want you to get close to Molly. Really, really close, if you catch my drift.'

'I catch your drift,' he smiled wickedly, 'how long do you want me to keep it going?'

'Well, Sherlock is going to be coming back sometime in the near future, so we'll talk once he comes back into the picture. But until then, you're going to be the devoted boyfriend that she's always wanted.'

'You got it boss,' he answered.

'Oh, and Tom? We're gonna have to make a few wardrobe changes.'

The video faded to black and it was over. Molly felt so many things at once: anger, heartbreak, betrayal, and others that she didn't even have a name for. She could feel her face getting hot and her palms hurt from how clenched they were. She could sense Sherlock was trying to say something to her but she ignored him.

She began to pace about the room and didn't even realize Sherlock's phone had rang until she heard him yelling at Mycroft, "Mycroft, if we didn't think he was really alive before we know now. If someone is trying to fake his return they're putting a lot of effort into making it look real. We have him on video with Molly's ex- what? What do you mean? How did this happen? For someone with as much power as you have you would think that you wouldn't be entirely useless!"

"Molly," he put his hand on her shoulder but she brushed it off, "we have to get back to the flat."

She whirled around angrily, "Why?"

"Because Mycroft's men are useless. The Woman is gone."