The Game

III. The Grand House

Life at the safe house was different. It was out in the country and not too far from London. Molly loved the vibrant flowers and willow trees that surrounded the house. It reminded her of when she lived on a farmhouse as a child.

The house was grand, with servants and lots of security. Molly was staying in one of the five brilliantly decorated bedrooms. There were luxurious features to the house that made Molly think she was living in a castle, with new things to discover at every turn.

Now, however, it was starting to feel like a dungeon.

They had been staying the house for five days, and in the span of those five days Molly had watched the entire season of Glee, and read two of the five books she brought. Her nights were restless, always her tossing and turning until she fell asleep. Moriarty was always in the corner of her mind, itching at and invading her thoughts.

Sherlock stayed in his room mostly, trying to find leads on the Moriarty case and filling the time with other simple ones he would solve with John.

John and Mary liked to spend their evenings in the lounge by the warm fireplace, wrapped in blankets and sipping tea. They weren't bored as it probably felt like a second honeymoon for them, despite the danger of Moriarty.

Mrs. Hudson had taken up to helping the kitchen staff with meals and reading the house's large selection of cliché romance novels.

Molly felt quite isolated. John had Mary, and Mrs. Hudson had the kitchen.

Even Sherlock had his stupid cases.

I can't keep staying in this house. I'm going back to work at St. Bart's. If I'm not working, I'll think about Moriarty. Molly decided. It's not like I'm leaving the house completely. I'll still come back to it once my shift is over.

Molly grabbed her phone and made arrangements with Mike Stamford to start work again this morning, feeling like she was being slightly reckless.

She was now standing outside on the stone steps of the house, beginning to call a taxi.

Suddenly, someone snatched her phone out of her hands, startling Molly.

"What-," Molly began to protest. She turned around and glared into the eyes of Sherlock. "Give me back my phone."

He ignored her and held the phone above her head, almost taunting her like a child. "Where are you going?"

"Give me my phone." Molly shot back.

"Where. Are. You. Going?" Sherlock asked, his blue-green eyes hardening. Molly knew she wouldn't win.

She sighed. "To Bart's. I need to work, I'm tired of sitting around doing nothing."

"Molly, don't be an idiot. It's dangerous. You're a greater target than any of the others. You helped me outwit Moriarty, he's not going to let that pass." Sherlock reminded her rather irritably.

"I know that. But I can't just stay here thinking about it. Now give me back my phone." Molly said, an edge in her voice.

Sherlock stared her down, but Molly didn't let up. She stared right back into his gaze, fire in her eyes.

She wasn't a shy little pathologist anymore.

Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh and dropped her phone in hands."Fine."

He studied her for a while before speaking again."Would you like to accompany me to this?" Sherlock whipped out a cream-colored piece of stationery and offered it to her. Molly took it but didn't read it yet.