I'm sure this has already been done to death since the trailer came out but I couldn't resist adding my own take on those words and those images of Molly.

Sherlock listened to the disembodied phone ringing and he rolled his eyes, feigning disinterest whilst internally wondering what fresh torture Moriarty's people, headed by Culverton Smith, had in store for them. He had been trapped in this god forsaken room with John and Mycroft for far too long and he knew that his nerves were at breaking point. He'd give good money for a cigarette and he'd kill for something stronger.

'Hello.'

That voice; her voice snapped him out of his reverie and he felt his stomach flip over uncomfortably. He'd like to think it was just out of fear for her but it had been happening more and more each time he saw her over the last few months. His mind immediately went into overdrive and he felt on the back foot as though he had been outmanoeuvred.

He swallowed and took a deep breath. 'Molly.'

'Sherlock, is that you? I was so worried. Where are you? I can't seem to get hold of John or Mary or anyone.'

He ignored her questions honing in on the information he needed first and foremost.

'Molly, are you safe?'

He heard the confusion in her reply. 'Umm, yes. Yes I'm...'

He cut her off immediately. 'No, don't tell me. Don't say anything that might compromise you.'

He heard her slight intake of breath and knew that she would already be thinking through the implication of his words. He closed his eyes and could picture her; she'd be holding the phone to her ear, her knuckles gripping it so tight they'd probably, be turning white. She'd have her hair up in her normal ponytail, wisps of it framing her face and she'd no doubt be wearing some garish combination of jumper and shirt, the sort that drove him mad making him silently wish he could tear them off her.

He wished now that he had, that he hadn't deprived himself, either of them, of that pleasure. He could see now that all his efforts at shielding her had been for nothing and now all he had left was this...one potentially final conversation.

His heart clenched; he wasn't ready. He didn't want to do this here...now...with Mycroft and John and god knows who else listening in.

'Sherlock? What about you? Are you safe?

He wanted to lie, wanted to tell her that it would all be fine but he couldn't, there were just too many variables and too much stacked against him and anyway she'd be able to tell, she could always see right through his bravado.

'No, no I'm not.'

He could hear she was stifling back tears and he wished with all his heart that he could hold her close, just once.

He was running out of time. It was now or possibly never.

'Molly...I love you...' He held his breath hoping beyond hope that he'd hear her say those same words back to him but all he heard was laughter from Smith as the phone was disconnected.

He turned, his fists clenching, they'd made a mistake. If they thought this would break his resolve they'd soon find out that it had strengthened it, she always gave him strength...always.

Short and almost sweet but I hope you enjoyed...let me know xx