A/N: I wrote this for school. And then I thought I'd stick it here. I think this Molly is rather interesting.
"It all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Jim said, his mouth twisted into that half-smile I knew so well.
The gun shook in my hand as I pointed it at him.
"Jim." I said, the cool tone of my voice not betraying my emotion. "I was right, you know. You really do have a god complex."
He laughed. "Oh Molly, how unexpected you are sometimes!" he said. "I see why I keep you around, I really do. You're a gem."
"I could shoot you right now." I said. "Push me, Jim. I dare you."
The scent of whatever cleaner they use on government buildings burnt in my nose.
"Oh but you won't, will you, Molly dear? If you were going to shoot me, you would have done it already."
It nearly drowned out the scent of my own sweat, but not quite.
I tightened my fingers around the gun.
"You can still walk away." I said. "You don't have to do this. I'm giving you a chance."
He rolled his eyes.
"Eurgh, second chances. How dreadfully cliché. Let me guess, I'm supposed to see the error of my ways, and surrender tearfully as the music swells?"
I glared at him. The beeps and ticks and whirs of the computers lining the walls were the only thing breaking our tense silence.
"People are going to die." I said inanely. Of course he knew that. They were going to die by his hand, after all. Why hadn't I listened to John? "People with just as much right to their lives as you or I, doesn't that matter to you?"
"Molly, really. You sound like you're reading from a script. Sure, people will die. Is that your 'unshakeable argument'? Most people can barely go eighty years before whoops! They've done something stupid, and it's Goodnight Vienna. Honestly, you're being terribly tedious."
The blank screens of the computer monitors surrounding us seemed dreadfully ominous, as if they were all silently judging our showdown. Did they think I had been as persuasive as I could? Were they chastising me, for not shooting Jim when I had the element of surprise? For not letting anyone follow me? I didn't know.
I couldn't think of anything to say, so I took a single sliding step towards him. The floor, a uniform shade of off-white, was freshly waxed. It made the tile feel like plastic, and it made me feel like this whole exchange was taking place in the cyberspace of a late nineties movie. It gave me a sense of unreality; as if it was all just happening in my head, and I would soon wake up next to Jim with only the barest memories of having a bad dream. Exactly the feeling you don't need when lives are on the line.
"Ah-ah-ah." He said, and he took a step towards the Button. "Don't want to go boxing me in, Molls. I might get scared, and then I could become... unpredictable."
The gun weighed heavy in my hand. I had been holding it up for some minutes now, and it wasn't getting any lighter. I bit my cheek to distract myself. I must have bit a bit too hard, because I could taste metal in my mouth. Like I was chewing on iron filings.
"You. Unpredictable. That's new." I said, deadpan – although I sure didn't feel deadpan.
He inclined his head in recognition. "You, however, are rather too predictable."
"I give myself a -" he turned his head to glance at the Button, affixed on the wall beside him "-sixty percent chance of being able to hit the button if you don't shoot me until you're sure I'm going for it. Which you won't. Because I know you."
I glared at the Button, for want of something new to glare at. "Jim, why are you doing this? Not the murdering, you've explained that well enough. But why the button? A big red button that you press to end the lives of a hundred thousand people. It seems unnecessarily theatrical, even for you."
His eyes lit up. "Finally, Molls. Although I did think it was going to take you longer than that."
"The princess is in another castle." he said, grinning.
"What?" I asked again.
"Oh come on, you don't think I'm stupid enough to give you one easy way to stop me? My plan went into effect three hours ago. This was just a... distraction."
I'm sure the horror was visible on my face.
"Run, little Molly." he said. "Run, and maybe you have a chance. But I doubt it."
I turned, feet slipping a little on the floor, and ran.
Maybe I had time.
I probably didn't.
But I had to try.