Archive of Our Own ^beta

The morgue was dark, and cold. The winter didn't allow for much light or warmth. It had been nearing the anniversary since Sherlock had taken his fall. And of course she had helped him. Molly loved him, and that was something she hadn't expected would change. But now that the man was gone, she'd found it easy for her feelings to subside. Now that he wasn't around to constantly remind her of his presence, his cleverness, things had become significantly less complicated for her. And she enjoyed that, she honestly did. Smiling internally, Molly went about her day, testing certain petri dishes with various chemicals and compounds, gathering any required data, making the occasional note here and there on the crisp white paper from her new notebook. Pausing a moment, Molly realized that she didn't remember where she'd gotten it from. She flipped the cover over, looking at the front of the binding. There was a small crown embossed into the front cover, painted a light gold color, contrasting (in a very pleasing, subtle way) with the deep crimson shade of the cover. Becoming a bit confused, Molly closed the notebook, removing her gloves. Where had the notebook come from? Was it on the desk when I got here? She considered, her eyebrows knitting together delicately as she thought. No. I remember bringing it in here.... She thought, shaking her head. Maybe there's a card. And with that, she stood up, walking back over to her small office in the corner of the morgue, taking the notebook with her.

Walking over to her desk, Molly set the notebook down on the corner of the table, not paying much attention to it. She was preoccupied at the moment by her computer screen. There was a flashing blue icon in the corner, and she realized that it was an application that she had never used before. There was a moment of panic, a small flutter of nerves coming from the pit of her stomach. No. It couldn't be. He was dead. With shaking hands, Molly took the mouse of her computer, clicking to open the application. It turned out to be some sort of instant messaging type of thing. But that observation was highly overlooked by the words she read:

'Did you miss me, darling? ~M' 12:17 pm

The cursor flashed next to the initial, and Molly felt her stomach fill with adrenaline, fueled by her anxiety. This couldn't be. She sat in nearly five minutes of contemplation, not sure of how to respond. The man that she believed to be on the other side of the screen was dead. She had examined the body herself. His eyes were glassy and clouded, a pool of blood from the back of his head. Molly shoved the thought away, typing her response.

'You're dead. Molly' 12:23 pm

There was almost no downtime with the reply, it had appeared almost instantly.

'A minor detail. ~M' 12:23 pm

There was almost no doubt in her mind now that she was dreaming. There was no second guessing the vernacular of the sentence, that was most certainly James Moriarty. At least, that was how she remembered him. Molly closed the window, having full intentions of returning to her work from before, but it reappeared almost instantaneously.

'Trying to ignore me, now? How rude. ~M' 12:25 pm

Molly felt her stomach grip with fear. If this was real....

'What do you want? Molly' 12:26 pm
'I require your assistance. ~M' 12:26 pm
'What could you want from me? Molly' 12:28 pm
'Oh, wouldn't you love to know. ;) ~M' 12:29 pm
'I'm sending you directions, be there at 8:00 sharp. ~M' 12:29 pm

After the last message had been sent, the printer in the corner of the room sprang to life, and Molly walked over, looking at the map that had printed, pointing out a luxury restaurant that she'd only ever considered going on a whim, never thinking she would due to the high prices and such.

'The Delaunay? Molly' 12:33 pm
'Only the best for you, darling. ~M' 12:33 pm
'Why are you doing this? Molly' 12:34 pm
'Let's just call it attempted redemption for past wrongdoings. ~M' 12:34 pm

That was a bit cumbersome.... Did Jim feel... Apologetic? What was this whole thing anyway? What did he have planned? For all she knew, this could be a set up to have her killed, after all.

'Don't over think this, Molly, you'll just throw yourself into a fit. ~M'  12:38 pm
'Dress nice. The black one. ~M' 12:39

And with that, the browser shut down, and Molly was left alone with nothing other than the map, directions, and her own confused thoughts. At least she had plans for the night.