Hide and Seek

Sherlock Holmes had in fact played his role perfectly, in Jim's little game. Every thing had gone just as planned. Up until now. The high functioning sociopath now had his Browning L9-A1 aimed directly at the discarded rigged vest that John Watson had been wearing only moments before. Jim found himself to be rather impressed by Sherlock. Naturally his first mental reaction was pure annoyance at the detectives attempt to ruin his fun, but he had to admit that he had a great amount of gall to stand there putting all of them in immediate danger. And Jim had a sinking feeling that Sherlock would not hesitate to pull the trigger.

"Come now Sherlock," Jim crooned. "We mustn't have you spoiling all my fun, now can we?"

"I believe you've had quite enough fun to last a lifetime," Sherlock deadpanned, his gun still pointed steady at his target.

"I've only just begun; my dear," Jim grinned with a narrowed brow; slowly backing up into the pillars and shadows. "You'll be hearing from me Sherlock," he said in a playful tone as he quietly pulled open the back door to the pool. He would let the sleuth and his pet go tonight. They were, after all, such great fun, and would prove themselves useful in his future.

So why did he feel so defeated? He had gotten to enjoy his game with his new favorite duo, but deep down underneath his crisp Westwood and his icy exterior, Jim felt as if he was missing out on something. Something that brought a strange amount of calm and comfort to the darkness that burned throughout his entire body and soul.

His thoughts kept impulsively drifting back to one Molly Hooper; as he stood leaned up against the window of his flat, overlooking the darkened London Streets. Poor sweet naive Molly from the hospital. At least that's how the world knew and saw her. Jim knew otherwise. He knew that somewhere inside that magnificent head of her was a dark and devious place. Why else would she spend her days happily in the company of the dead? Surely it wasn't fore the company they keep.

She intrigued him.

Of course Jim had had his fair share of women; ninety percent of them were tossed out when he was finished with them, the other ten percent he kept a ring away, for when he found himself bored. But this appealing creature that lingered in the morgue had captivated him; body, mind and soul. He would wait several days to go to her; no need to rush things. And when he did he wouldn't go as the flamboyant Jim from I.T., but as himself. Well, as much as himself that he could present to her at the moment.

Jim waited for her in the parking garage. He made sure to kill all the lights beforehand, leaving her just enough light to see her car sitting alone on the other side of the lot; with Jim in the back seat. He had dressed to the hilt in a sharp black suit with a white shirt and vibrant red tie. He learned sometime ago that red was her favourite colour, in fact he could almost get off just picturing her greedy eyes watching as the blood pooling before it drained from her autopsy table.

He watched Molly pause as she stepped off the lift into the darkened garage. Instinctively, she reached into her hand bag and dug inside until she pulled a small canister of pepper spray. Jim couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of it.

"You'd need much more than that to bring me down, my sweet Molly" he whispered to himself in the dark.

She approached the car with quickened steps, hurriedly opening the car door and slipping in the driver's seat with ease, promptly locking the door behind her.

That hadn't stopped me either, Jim thought smiling wickedly at the simultaneous clicks the door locks made around him.

Molly took a deep breath and sighed, dragging her hand down the length of her face. Her eyes eventually found their way to the rearview mirror and she gasped; her body jumping slightly at the sight of him. She reached for the canister she had so haphazardly tossed on the passenger seat once she thought she was safe.

"Now now, my dear," Jim said, keeping his tone soft and sweet. "That's hardly a proper welcome isn't it?"

Molly's face went from a state of shock into an ice cold, hard glare. "What do you want of me Jim?" she asked, turning around in her seat so she could face him.

"You're a smart girl Molly. Surely you can figure that out all on your own."

"You never thought I was smart before," she replied coolly.

"That's where you're wrong Molly. I can see exactly who you really are" Jim said inching his way closer to her. "I know that you're much more than a silly girl who works in the morgue and keeps a blog only to make herself look normal."

Molly's breath quickened and she pulled back slightly.

"Tell me, my dear; did you really go to the police? Were you really worried about little old me?"

"Of course I was worried Jim, you all but up and disappeared, didn't you?" Molly sighed and shook her head. "But no, I didn't go to the police. I was going to, but then Sherlock turned back up, puttering about my morgue as usual."

Molly paused; and this time she was the one who moved forward.

"And he told me all about you Jim," she whispered. "All about those innocent people you murdered. Of course he wasn't speaking to me directly, but why should he worry about what he says in front of the quiet girl whose only friends are the dead."

"Is that so?" Jim asked, his voice husky and low and his face now only mere inches from hers. He could feel the warmth radiating off her body, the aroma of a rich bodied coffee flowing from her delicate pink lips.

Molly nodded slowly.

"And does that frighten you? Are you afraid of sweet old Jim from I.T?" he asked moving closer still.

"But you're not from I.T. Jim," she said, pausing to take a shallow breath. "And if you really wanted me dead, you'd of had me done in by now."

Jim's mouth came down on hers in a moment of headed lust that had been slowly building inside of him. He was a bit more forceful than he had intended to be, but she didn't seem to mind. The way her hands were roaming through his hair and how she was tugging him closer between the seats only made him want more of her sweet temptations. He slid his tongue over her as his fingers trailed up the soft cotton fabric of her blouse and began to undo the buttons. She moaned softly into his mouth and tightened her hold on him when his cool hand came into contact with her warm skin.

"Come back with me, to my flat," Jim said in between ragged breaths. "Let me into that beautifully dark place you hide in your mind."

Molly abruptly pulled away from him and readjusted herself in her seat so she was now facing forwards. She didn't speak, she just refastened the buttons on her shirt and kept her eyes straight ahead; looking out at the empty parking spaces. Her lips were now formed into a tight pink line and he noticed how hard she was trying to fight back the tears that were now glistening in her lovely hazel eyes. Jim leaned forward and tucked a strand of her freshly dishelmed hair behind her ear, placing a slow and tender kiss high on her cheek.

"I'll wait for you Molly," he said softly. "You'll grow tired of pretending soon enough, and I'll be the one around to pick up all the pieces."

"You're wrong Jim, I'm not like you," Molly said allowing a single tear to escape; leaving a sparkling trail down her fair cheek. "I could never live with the things you've done."

Jim opened his door and stepped outside. He leaned back into the door after straightening his tie and smoothing the wrinkles out on his suit. He did his best to get as close to her ear as possible, undoubtedly tickling her flesh with his warm and wanton breath.

"You're more like me than you think, Molly Hooper," he whispered with a sing song tone. And with that he shut the car door and walked away.