Molly didn't know what to do with herself as she wandered around the lab aimlessly. She couldn't sit still but neither could she focus on work.

"Did you miss me?"

It had been a couple of hours since Moriarty's message had taken over every screen in the UK but her heart rate had yet to slow. Every time she stilled for a moment the blood in her ears would whoosh so loudly, she thought her eardrums might burst. Each breath left her lips shakily as if she had to fight every second not to hyperventilate. Her afternoon bevy cooled on the lab bench untouched, just a cloud of color surrounding a tea bag that had steeped too long. She could not bring herself to drink it. She didn't trust her trembling fingers to hold onto the ceramic mug long enough for the liquid to reach her lips.

She had tried to throw herself into her work but concentration was impossible. Words on the pages of lab reports seemed to swirl in front of her eyes. The symbols on the buttons of her machines looked foreign, as if someone had replaced them while she wasn't looking. Every time one of the electronics buzzed to life, its sound made her jump. There was no denying it, she was cracking up.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:30 pm. She had another hour before Greg, who had graciously texted and asked if she wanted to be escorted home, arrived. She fished her phone from her pocket and swiped the screen to life. She swallowed a lump and willed away tears.

"The one person he thought didn't matter at all to me, was the one person who mattered the most."

Molly sniffed and rubbed her nose. "Yeah … yeah, right, Sherlock."

So much for mattering. He hadn't replied to the texts she had sent. Granted, he was probably busy but if ever there was a time for him to show he cared, even in the slightest, right then would have been it. A fat tear plopped down on her mobile. She tugged her sleeve over the heel of her palm and wiped at it furiously. It smeared and obscured the screen, or was it her eyes that blurred? With a hiccup, she stuffed the cell back in her pocket and covered her face with her hands.

Sherlock rapped his knuckles against the rear window of the luxury sedan as it navigated the streets of London. Rain had just began to fall. He watched several drops snake down the glass until they traversed the point near the base of the window where increased air speed caused them to flutter and jump from the car. He exhaled in aggravation as the vehicle slowed for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Relax, brother mine," Mycroft murmured. "In addition to the agents we already had stationed there, we have sent several more. In fact, there is no need for you to go at all."

Sherlock turned from the window and skewered him with his glare. Mycroft clapped his lips shut, turned up his nose and rolled his eyes away towards the opposite window. Sherlock caught Anthea's dark gaze in the rear view mirror as she looked up from her mobile. Her eyes crinkled at the corners before she tapped the arm of the driver.

"I think you can go a bit faster," she said softly. "No one will dare stop this car."

Molly hiked her bag on her shoulder and pushed out the lab door into the corridor. It swung noisily behind her as she studied her phone one last time. There was only one recent message and it was from Greg Lestrade.

On my way. – G

She bit her lip and shook her head sadly at the screen.

"Stop it," she whispered to herself angrily. "Just stop it."

A flurry of movement at the end of the corridor caught her attention and her head snapped up. Her heart thudded to a stop in her chest, the air left her lungs as if someone pounced on her chest. Sherlock, followed by Mycroft speaking in clipped tones, stalked down the hall. Sherlock stopped once, retorted something in a caustic tone, waved his hand at his brother and then resumed his march in her direction. When their eyes met across the distance, his steps slowed. Without taking his determined gaze from hers or stopping his advance, he yanked at his scarf until it was loose, bunched it into a wad and threw it to the floor.

Molly started shaking. Her bag slid off her shoulder, tugged her arm on the way down until it she just let it fall to the floor in a heap. Before she even knew what she was doing, her feet were flying beneath her as she sprinted towards him. She choked on a cry just as she launched herself into his open arms. Her feet flew in an arc as he absorbed her impact, then she was wrapped in his embrace. She buried her face in his shoulder and started sobbing as he clutched her tightly against his solid frame.

"It's alright," he murmured into her ear as his fingers tangled with the hair at her nape. "I've got you."

Molly clung to his neck as she let it all out. She knew from this moment on, everything was going to be alright just as he said. After all, he had come for her. There was no denying how he felt in the way he held her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Before she even realized it, his lips were on hers and they were kissing. A burst of joy flared in her chest even as tears dried on her cheeks and she kissed him back.

"Oh, Good Lord," Mycroft mumbled.

Sherlock lifted his head. "You are welcome to leave."

Behind her boss, Anthea smirked and pressed her lips together to hide a smile. Greg Lestrade seemed to appear out of nowhere. He looked at the pair of them still grasping each other tightly. His lips formed an 'o'.

"Erm, I gather I'm no longer needed?"