"Don't touch me" The skinny woman warns, shuffling back until her back was flat against the wooden wall.

There's a moment of silence as John keeps his hand outstretched, where he'd gone to comfort the woman, possibly help her. The ship they were on, not by choice, swayed gently from side to side.

John and this woman were the only ones here, below deck, and John could hear the heavy footsteps of the crew above them. The crew that had ambushed him and his friends, killing them all but throwing him down here.

He was thankful in a way. Despite grieving for his friends, there was a part of him that was glad they'd spared him. Whatever the reason.

"Why can't I touch you?" John questions, dropping his hand and stopping his thoughts from wondering too far.

The small woman, dressed in a dirty torn pink dress, smiles at the question and shakes her head as if to say 'Oh, you poor man, you're not going to survive long'

"If you touch me, the Captain will throw you over board or shoot you in the head"

John's bruised and bloodied face lights up in understanding "You're his.. mistress?"

He didn't know what the term was for woman like her. He didn't want to call her a sex slave, despite that being spot on for describing what she was. He didn't have the heart to be so blunt, and for all he knew there may be more. She could be this Captain's, whom he hasn't had the pleasure of meeting yet, lover and she was only down here because the crew were dogs.

Her face scrunches up in disgust. "I suppose that is one way to word it, yes"

John nods, giving her a sympathised smile "I'm sorry you've had to go through that"

"Oh, I wouldn't apologise, Doctor Watson. They'll have plan for you and trust me, it will be far worse then what I've, as you put it, had to go through" She gives another one of those smiles, one that said she doubted his survival.

John frowns, confused as to how she knew his occupation. He'd been screaming before, demanding to be let go, and a crew member, the second in command John guessed, had ask his name. That explains how she knew Watson. Not the Doctor part, though.

"Considering where I was taken from, a Royal Navy ship, and I never said so, how the hell do you know I'm a doctor?" He raises an eyebrow.

The woman smiles again, far more mysterious this time and she stays silent. She pushes her once light, now dark from dirt, hair from her face and behind her ear.

It takes a few more moments for John to realise that she's not going to answer.

"Will you tell me your name, then?" John asks, ignoring the ever present footsteps above them.

"Molly" She replies, eyes flashing to the trap door two seconds before it opens.

The darkened room floods with light, causing John eyes to burn, and a figure slowly makes his way down. Like you see in the movies, first the man descending the stairs was only a pair of heavy boots, then he was boots and dirty trousers, then eventually he had shoulders and a neck.

Finally he was stood at the bottom of the steps, all of his body visible in the beam of the light from on deck. John returns the stare of the man he'd previously been arguing with. As far as pirates go, he had a relatively soft face but everything else about him was cold and hard. Especially his eyes.

"Captain wants to see you. Both of you" He speaks, only looking at Molly as he says the last three words.

Molly stands immediately and makes her way towards him. The pirate steps back, giving her more then enough room to ascend the stairs. She wasn't lying about no one being able to touch her.

Both the men watch her walk up the creaky stairs, her head held high despite why she was here. Once her bare feet had disappeared from view the man, who John believes is the First Mate, looked back to John and narrowed his eyes. He obviously thought John was going to be trouble.

So, maybe just to spite him, John stands and walks up the stairs. The man clamps a hand down on John's shoulder, walking up right behind him.

John remains obedient and doesn't attempt to shake the hand off, he just let's himself be lead up on deck.

It was bright. That's the first thing John notices and he squints, trying to shield his eyes from the harsh sunlight.

When he'd adjusted to the glare of the sun, John was ever so pleased to see that all the crew that gathered and were starring him in curiosity.

Oh great, John thinks, he's being presented like a bloody collectable toy.

John spots Molly then, her hand settled on a tall man's shoulder. She was leaning into him, seeming desperate for his attention. She doesn't even look John's way, she's too busy smiling and running her hands all over the tall guys shoulders.

John turns his attention to the man then, who was ignoring her attempts.

The Captain.

His icy blue eyes were on John, as if analysing him, judging him, rating him. John hated it.

The Captain's height was rather daunting, and he was obviously aware of this as he used it to his advantage, looming over all those around him, standing out as the one in charge. His hair was surprising well kept, his curls bouncing off his forehead in an almost innocent manner. He wore no hat, but he did hold one in his hand.

His clothes were also in good nick. His white flowly 'typical pirate' shirt only added to his grace. The pistols on either side of his hips, however, had the same effect as his height.

John was torn between being in awe of his grace and being terrified of his power.

"Captain" The guy with his hand on John's shoulder speaks "This is the guy"

The Captain's eyes run down to John's toes and back up to the tips of his hair, ever assessing him.

Then he smiles, a wicked predatory, yet strikingly beautiful, smile. He gives a nod, his eyes moving to look over John's shoulder.

"Good call, Jim. An army doctor..." He briefly glances at John "Just what we need. A medical man"

John had no idea how the hell they knew he was a doctor but he was thankful they did, because it was currently the reason he was alive. If he weren't able to cure these pirates of certain illnesses and keep them alive, it was highly likely he'd be dead. He was sure of that now.

"Take him to my cabin, take the tart with you too" He jerks his head towards Molly, who was still on his side.

Jim nods and directs John through the crew. They part for him as they head for a set of double doors directly opposite the trap door that John had been tossed into an hour or so ago.

As they pass each pirate, images of his dead friends flash before his eyes. Memories of the ambush and how these men had heartlessly shot or stabbed his friends, just because of the simple fact they were in 'claimed' waters.

He forces away the images. Now was certainly not the time to grieve.

Molly trails after them, no one touches her and she gives a little smirk despite the fact she just got called a tart. John guessed that she was glad to have only one of these horrid guys touching her.

When they reached the door Molly was let in first and John was pushed in after her by Jim. He stood awkwardly by the wall beside the door while Molly crosses the room and sat on a table half filled with maps and pins and some weird green liquid. Jim goes to the large desk and sits in the plush black chair there, he puts his feet on the surface of the desk and smirks at John.

It made John's skin crawl to have those dark eyes on him.

"So, Johnny, you any good at being a doctor?" He asks, his eyes staying on John as he picks up a red liquorish from a bowl on the desk and chews on it.

"Very good" John nods, sticking his chin out proudly.

Something in him told him that he could get away with sassing this man with Molly here. She had some kind of unspoken power over him, what with the whole touch me and die thing.

"That's good, isn't it, Mols?" Jim laughs, looking to Molly.

She rolls her eyes but stays nothing in reply to that question. She does however, give that smile John had seen twice now. The 'you're time is low' smile.

"Best move your arse, Jim, Sherlock's going to be here in 3.. 2.. 1"

The door opens as she utters the word one. Jim freezes, scrambling to vacate the seat.

Okay, John is starting to find the way she does that really creepy. He was standing beside the door and yet he hadn't heard footsteps or anything. She was across the room and had known the Captain was approaching. She hadn't even looked at the door.

The captain, Sherlock as John now knows enters, and it's clear to all of them that he's not in a great mood.

His whole aura, body language and facial expression have a do-not-piss-me-off vibe. He looked as if he'd snap someone's neck, anyone's, if they set one toe out of line.

Bad news for John, seeing as he had no idea where the lines were. He decided to just stand straight in his typical military posture and not breath a word.

The Captain, who now had his hat on, crosses the room and sits at his desk, bringing the chair as close to the surface as possible. He rests his elbows on the desk and fixes his hands under his chin, eyes darting between the three people in the room.

"Jim..." He starts, voice low and dangerous.

"Captain?" Jim asks, straightening.

Sherlock clears his throat, straightening a piece of paper on his desk before speaking "If I ever find out that you've sat in my chair again, I will shoot you between the eyes. Understood?"

The way he said it was so eerily calm and void of emotion. There was no doubt in John's mind that he would shoot his First Mate for sitting in his chair.

"Understood!" Jim nods firmly, appearing composed despite the fear in his eyes.

"Also" Sherlock eyes drift to the bowl of sweets on his desk "Seeing as I won't be able to get anymore liquorish for three months, you're not getting off next time we stop"

Jim's eyes widen "But next stop is--"

"No but's Jim! Now bugger off and do your job" Sherlock waves him off, already turning to face John.

Jim trails out with a sorrowful "Yes, sir"

John does his best to stay standing straight and composed. Moments into Sherlock's intense gaze, however, he slumps in defeat and let's a bit of his fear show on his face.

Apparently that was exactly what Sherlock was waiting for because he gives a grin and drops his arms in front of him when John slumps.

"Now, John, you're an army doctor--"

"How--"

"No questions. I talk, you listen" Sherlock cuts him off with an icy bone chilling glare.

John gives a nod, meeting Sherlock's eyes like you're meant to in conversation. John wished he could look away from those penetrating eyes. It was like they could literally see inside John's head, see what he was thinking and feeling. He felt like an open book laid out in front of the Captain for him to read as he pleased.

"As I was saying. You're an army doctor. My crew and I could benefit greatly from having a medical man aboard. So here's how things go, you treat us to the best of your ability and I won't kill you. You do as you're told, no questions asked. The order of rank goes: myself, obviously, then Jim and then Lestrade. Should an argument break out over your orders, you listen to highest rank..." Sherlock trails off, obviously trying to think if there was anything more for him to say. "Oh, you'll be sleeping in Molly's 'room' below deck and just so you know, if you lay a hand on her in any way that isn't to save her life, I will personally torture you until you form a mess of blood and organs on the floor. Are, we, clear?"

Jim gives a sharp nod, acting as though he wasn't scared more then he'd ever been before. "Crystal clear"

"Perfect. Any questions before you start work?" Sherlock tilts his head slightly.

John, despite himself, was immediately on alert at the idea of there being people that he needed to treat.

"Um, just one. What do I call people?"

Sherlock sighs, as if expecting a better question. John almost misses the way he breathes the word 'Idiot' before replying. "You can call everyone by their name, excluding me. I expect you to call me Captain or Captain Holmes"

John nods "Okay"

"Right. Molly" Sherlock turns to Molly and gives her a small closed mouth smile "take Doctor Watson to his patient and inform everyone that he is not to be injured unless he disobeys an order"

John didn't know if that was because some of his crew's lives were possibly going to be saved by him or if it was just a general thing for him to not tolerate mindless violence.

"Shall I stay with him until he's done or return below after I show him the way?" Molly asks, sliding off the desk.

"Supervise him, keep Jim away too"

John almost smiled then. He was glad that Jim wasn't going to be near him. That man gave him the creeps and if Sherlock thought he should be kept away then surely that shows John wasn't imagining the crazy creepy vibe he'd got off Jim.

"Yes, Captain" Molly nods.

"Oh, and when he's done. Come see me" Sherlock sends her one more small smirk before he looks down at the paper in front of him, becoming absorbed in his work or whatever it is that he's doing.

John continues to just stand awkwardly, not sure how to react to being witness to a conversation about him.

He supposes he'll have to get used to being treated like he was invisible.

Molly makes her way towards the door and, always a gentleman, John opens the door for her. She smiles her thanks before walking out and gesturing for him to follow.

Once they had exited the room and made their way through another door off the main deck, Molly speaks up.

"He doesn't hate you" She sounds more reassuring then sure.

"He doesn't like me" John replies. It was easy to spot the annoyance in the Captain's eyes each time he looked at John.

"But he doesn't hate you, and trust me when I say that's a good thing"

"Mm, why do I have a feeling that it won't be easy to keep him not hating me?" John asks, tone sarcastic.

He wasn't even sure if he should talk to Molly like this, she was on their side after all. Yet, she wasn't at the same time. She seemed to be a prisoner but here she was, leading him around like a solid member of their team without anyone watching her. John was yet to not have a supervisor.

Maybe Molly was just a trusted prisoner...

The woman laughs, shaking her head. "Oh, John, you have so much to learn"

-

A/N: This not in anyway Sherolly and I just want to say Sherlock isn't using Molly for sex against her will. The crew and John just think that.