Sherlock-MH or MM

                                    

                                          
Molly POV
I walked into the lab and deflated slightly when I saw Sherlock frowning over a microscope.
                          
"Molly." He said.
                          
"Hello, Sherlock." I murmured, retrieving the chemicals I had been working with the night before.
                          
"Come look at this." He ordered.
                          
I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. "I'm working, Sherlock." 
                          
"Molly." His voice was commanding. I glanced up to see his enigmatic blue-green eyes staring me down.
                          
With an inaudible sigh I rounded the table to look at whatever had Holmes' trousers in a twist.
                          
"Sherlock...is this...."
                          
"Blood? Yes."
                          
I stared at him. "Whose?"
                          
Sherlock scowled. "A man by the name of Moran."
                          
My blood ran cold. I knew the name Moran. All too well, in fact.
                          
"Why are you looking at his blood? And...how'd you get it?"
                          
"I'm attempting to track him. And it's not his blood."
                          
I frowned. "Then whose-"
                          
"His father. Sebastian Moran is a code name, I'm sure of it. I'm checking DNA records of men with his description."
                          
I nodded and moved back to my station as quickly as possible.
                          
After a few minutes of silence, I felt eyes on me.
                          
"You're rather quiet today, Molly. Usually you prattle on about some nonsense in your life."
                          
"I'm just trying to figure some things out." I murmured.
                          
"And what would those be?" Sherlock asked expectantly. Inwardly I smirked at that. As infallible as he was, the great Sherlock Holmes couldn't deduce what I was thinking.
                          
"Why are you after this Moran and how did you get family DNA samples?"
                          
"I have reason to believe that Moran helped Moriarty fake his suicide. And I went through your samples. Why did you have Moran's father's blood?"
                          
"I was doing some experiments on some samples from blood donors." I watched Sherlock for a moment before making my choice. "You're going about this all wrong."
                          
"What?" He looked up at me.
                          
"Trying to catch Moran. You're doing it wrong."
                          
Sherlock scowled. He must hate being wrong. "And do tell, Molly, how I should do it right?"
                          
"Well, first you need to consider what you're trying to catch him for. Faking suicide. You did something rather similar, did you not?"
                          
"Yes. You helped me. But I am not a criminal, Molly, there's a difference."
                          
"Coulda fooled me." I muttered.
                          
"What was that?"
                          
"Nothing important. Would you like me to tell you what else you're doing wrong?"
                          
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't make mistakes, Molly. I can't afford them."
                          
I walked over and tapped the screen he was using. "Ah, but here's the biggest one of them all."
                          
"What?"
                          
"You're trying to catch Moran. To catch Moran you have to think like Moran. And to think like Moran...you need to think like a woman."
                          
Sherlock stared at me like I'd gone mad. "You think Moran is a girl?"
                          
I nodded. "Moriarty mentioned dating a girl when he was with me. I think it might be her."
                          
"Did he say anything else about her?" I had him hooked now.
                          
"Well...He said she's wonderful with camoflauge. Likes hiding in plain sight. She was timid, but as they spent more time together, she got bolder. He said she was dating someone else when he was with me, but she probably dumped him to seem vulnerable when the time came. From the information I got, she's a magnificent con."
                          
"How did you get this much information on someone who I've never seen a picture of?" Sherlock was showing signs of being flustered at being outsmarted.
                          
"It was easy actually. She's hiding in plain sight." I moved back to my station and let him process my words.
                          
"No..." He finally said."It can't be."
                          
"But it is." I felt a smirk tug at my lips but wiped it away as I looked up at him.
                          
"The Molly Hooper I know wouldn't do anything like that."
                          
I rolled my eyes. "That's the thing about Molly Hooper. She was never real. Molly Moran, however...She's a different story entirely."
                          
I got no response. I had shocked the great Sherlock Holmes into silence.
                          
"I was perfect. Did you never question why I didn't have a sniper? No. You assumed that Moriarty didn't know how you felt about me. And now that he's back, so am I. Back in business, that is."
                          
"The dating?" He asked weakly.
                          
"A way for Jim to see how close we were. Tom was a cover, I dumped him to pull you in. Even a sociopath can't resist a damsel in distress."
                          
Sherlock scowled. "I did not view you as a damsel in distress, Molly."
                          
"But you did. You were condescending, you were distant. But when I dumped Tom you came running."
                          
"I did not come running!" Now he sounded indignant. I shot him a simpering smile as I reached under my lab table.
                          
"Oh but you did, Sherlock. And now it's the final reveal. It's opening night and I know all my lines. But it would seem that you don't know yours. Would you like to know your role?"
                          
Sherlock stood. He really was tall, it was rather irritating.
                          
"Sit back down." I snapped. The commanding tone must have surprised him, he dropped back onto the stool.
                          
"But all the signs...they pointed to attraction! What did I get wrong?"
                          
"You missed one pivotal point, Sherlock." I rounded the table again, keeping one hand under my lab coat. 
                          
"I never loved you. From day one, all I wanted was your head on a silver platter."
                          
I pulled out my Glock, the silencer already screwed on, and pulled the trigger.