Molly held her lower lip in her teeth as she readjusted the bag in her hands, once again cursing herself for getting a flat so far on the outskirts of London. But then a small smile graced her face as she thought of her home, immediately washing away all her regrets. Small and cozy with a kitchen many would sell their organs to have (though for the record that was not how she was able to afford it), the little space was a soothing respite from the chaos of city life. Sure, the commute was hell but she didn't mind and even if she hadn't loved it so much, it was a sound investment.

She tugged the edges of her coat more tightly around herself, careful not to jostle her items. The first real chill of winter was starting to set in and the waning sunlight was not helping. She had just turned the final corner to her home when she heard it, a woman's muffled cry for help. Molly froze and ran back to the alley she'd just passed, horrified to see a man strike a woman in the face, knocking her to the pavement. He grabbed her purse and ran, leaving the assaulted woman sobbing on the ground. Molly dropped her bags and ran to help her up. She looked to be about Molly's age, her dark brown hair escaping the braid that went down her back.

"It's alright," Molly said gently, grabbing her by the elbow to help her up. "Are you ok?"

The woman stood unsteadily on her feet and dabbed at the blood that trickled from her nose with her fingers before nodding.

"Yes...just a bit shaken up I think."

"Did he hit you anywhere besides your face?"

The woman shook her head no and winced, pressing her fingers to her temple.

"Look, why don't you come with me to my home- its just right there- and you can phone the police, yea?"

The woman's eyes teared up and she nodded again before letting out a shaky, "Thank you."

Molly retrieved her bags and lead the stranger on the short trip, managing to open the door with minimal difficulty despite her awkward packages.

"I'm Molly, by the way," she said, retrieving her first aid kit from the bathroom and handing the woman a tissue.

"I'm Evelyn," she replied, smiling despite the bruises forming on her face.

"Do you live round here?"

The woman nodded, taking in a shuddering breath. "I'm renting a flat a couple blocks east of here. Just moved in a couple weeks ago and was trying to get to know the area."

"New to London then?"

"Very much so."

Molly frowned in sympathy, "I'm sorry you've had this experience. Typically this neighborhood is very safe. Would you care for some tea?"

Evelyn nodded, "That sounds lovely. Do you mind if I borrow your phone to call the police? Mine was in my bag."

"Sure," she replied, rummaging around her purse until she withdrew the intended object and quickly entered her password lock before handing it over. She busied herself in the kitchen as Evelyn stepped out into her tiny courtyard.

After a few minutes she returned, handing Molly's phone back to her with a "Thanks. Mind if I use your loo? Freshen up a bit?"

"Right through the bedroom," she said, motioning with her head as she put the kettle on.

Evelyn soon returned and settled onto one of the counter stools as Molly inquired how she took her tea.

"So," said Molly, blowing gently on her cuppa, "You don't have anyone do you?"

Evelyn's eyes jerked up sharply from her cup, "Sorry?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't mean to pry. I just meant do you have any family or friends that can stay with you while this gets sorted out?"

"No," said Evelyn, her voice sounding sharp. Molly's eyes ran over her face before she set down her cup. "I'm sorry. I know what its like. To be lonely, I mean-You look lonely..." she stopped nervously as Evelyn's eyes focused directly on her and narrowed, her head cocking to the side in intense scrutiny. After a breath, Molly continued, "Would you like to stay for dinner? I could order some takeaway and find something awful on the telly to watch?"

Evelyn continued to stare at her before she smiled and stood.

"No, you've been kind enough already but I really should get going."

"Do you want me to call you a cab?"

"No, I'm ok to walk. I think it unlikely I should be mugged twice in the same day."

"Alright," said Molly uncertain as she moved to let Evelyn out. "Well if you need anything, you know where I live."

Evelyn smiled brightly, "I do, don't I? Thank you again Molly."

And then she was gone.

John rested his head against the glass of the moving car, trying to get some sleep. They had been on the road for hours on their way back to London from Musgrave Manor. Sherlock hadn't said much since they started the drive but he was awake, staring unfocused on the scenery ahead. John had nearly slipped off when Sherlock's phone rang. It was answered almost instantly as it was already clasped in his hand.

"Yes...I see. Thank you Greg."

He hung up, keeping the phone in his palm on his lap.

"Well?" asked John, looking at Sherlock expectantly.

"The search of Molly's flat did no reveal any explosives. However a large cache of C-4 was discovered in a dumpster two blocks away."

John blinked, confused.

Sherlock sighed sounding weary, "What is the probability that a large amount of explosives would be discovered within walking distance of Molly's home on the very day she was threatened with such a fate?"

"Near none."

"Exactly. The only logical conclusion is that those explosives were intended for Molly but the plan was abandoned."

"Maybe they were seen? Had to ditch it to avoid getting caught?"

"Eurus is nothing but thorough. If she wanted the bomb there, it would be there. The location of where it was abandoned indicates the plan was aborted very near its completion. The only conclusion I have is that Eurus changed her mind."

"But why?"

"She interacted with people in my life to gain insight for her little games. I assume that included Molly. Perhaps something about their interaction prompted her to spare Molly's life."

John sputtered in disbelief, "You think your sister- the one who murdered multiple people in multiple sadistic little ways right in front of us, who tried to get you to murder your own brother- you think she had a nice cuppa with Molly and said 'Oh she's charming, I think I'll spare her'"?"

Sherlock tilted his head, "Not exactly like that but I think its an adequate summary."

John blinked. The past day had been full of revelations but few could parallel this: that sweet, awkward Molly Hooper who made funny faces at Rosie had talked the soulless Eurus out of killing her without even trying. Well, that except for one other revelation...

"What are you going to tell her about the phone call?" John asked, his voice soft.

Sherlock pressed his lips together tightly and looked at his phone.

"I don't know."

"Ok. And, uh, what are you going to tell yourself?"

He did not answer.

John let out a huff of air and looked back out his window.

Jim Moriarty, Eurus Holmes, and Sherlock.

"Right. Molly Hooper, psychopath whisperer it is then."

"High-functioning sociopath," corrected Sherlock from his seat with a small smirk.

Eurus Holmes's eyes immediately flew around Molly Hooper's little flat, deductions coming so quickly she had to hone in, focus on the ones important to her and her purpose here. The rest could be sorted later.

Coffee table is positioned 1 meter away from sofa. Molly Hooper is 5 ft 4 in so using it here for either drinks or relaxation is functionally useless. It is however, appropriate positioning for the use of someone over 6 ft tall. Known associates: Gregory Lestrade - 5 ft 11 in, John Watson - 5 ft 6 in, Sherlock Holmes - 6 ft 1 in. Conclusion: Positioning done by Sherlock Holmes and left by Molly Hooper.

Mantle pictures consist of two photos, both over twenty years old, apparent by the fading and the approximate age of Molly Hooper in them. Man and other woman in photo significantly older. Family photos from child hood. No other photos in main room or kitchen. Conclusion: Distant vs deceased family members. Friends are sparse to non-existent.

State of cleanliness indicates organization. Furniture is well maintained and of quality but not ostentatious. Flat is expensive. Items are practical and made to last. There is little clutter- Eurus stopped as her eyes fell upon a taxidermied mouse on a skateboard - She has a morbid sense of humor.

"I'm sorry you've had this experience. Typically this neighborhood is very safe. Would you care for some tea?" she heard the other woman ask.

Eurus nodded, "That sounds lovely. Do you mind if I borrow your phone to call the police? Mine was in my bag."

She took Molly's phone with a smile, pretending to use the courtyard for privacy and quickly pulled up Sherlock's contact and the texts that had passed between them. She smiled as she scrolled through, filing them all away in her eidetic memory.

Oh, Ms. Hooper. Such subtext. We're going to have so much fun.

She quickly called the police and giving a cockney inflection to her English, reported a mugging anonymously on the other side of town in case Molly were to check her completed call list.

"Thanks," she said, entering the kitchen again, "Mind if I use your loo? Freshen up a bit?"

"Right through the bedroom," replied Molly lighting the burner under the kettle.

Eurus glanced first in the shower.

All feminine body washes and utensils.

She opened the cabinet.

Towels.

She stood on tiptoes to the shelf above and smirked at the masculine soap, razors, and aftershave that were stored in a little basket.

Sherlock's brand placed easily within his reach and out of her sight. Infrequently but regularly used.

She passed back through Molly's bedroom and paused, her eye catching the small black box on the bottom shelf of her nightstand.

A quick glance to the door told her Molly was still in kitchen and she quickly retrieved the box, lifting the top off and nearly couldn't contain her mirth.

9mm Smith and Wesson with a 3" barrel. Illegal for civilian possession in UK.

Her mind whirled back to bins at the road and worked its way back through the house.

Perfect alignment, not overfilled, all properly sorted. Outdoor landscaping immaculate. Collection of shoes at the door indicates she tries to keep from getting the floors dirty. Fire alarms all with fresh batteries. Fire extinguisher easily in reach next to the stove.

Molly Hooper is not a habitual rule breaker. Except when it comes to Sherlock. There she is willing to break the law itself.

She lifted the gun to her eyes and sniffed before turning it over in her hands.

Never fired but contains hints of Sherlock's aftershave. He's handled it frequently and there are faint oil smudges from fingerprints on the hilt that are too large to be Molly Hooper's.

Conclusion: This gun likely kept for a time at Baker Street and was frequently handled by him. However, size and caliber of gun suggests it was specifically purchased either for concealment or for a woman. The bullet holes in the wall at Baker Street make the former less likely as Sherlock would have fired it by now. Also, most obviously, its presence in Ms. Hooper's flat suggest the latter.

Eurus rose and studied the bed.

Covers are rumpled on the left more so than the right which is where the gun is, indicating that Molly Hooper sleeps on the left, opposite the gun. If the gun was meant for her protection, it would be on her side. Conclusion: The gun was presented as a weapon for him to use if accosted while here. Furthermore, when Sherlock stays here, he sleeps in her bed. Under the pretense that the gun is for his use, the gun stays on his side.

But if the gun were truly for him, he would have purchased a weapon more suitable to his size and liking.

She replaced the lid on the gun box and exited.

Conclusion: Sherlock Holmes wants Molly Hooper to be able to protect herself in his absence. Sherlock worries about Molly Hooper.

She sat back at the counter and took her tea, calculating how quickly she could extract herself.

One-third cup consumption should be sufficient.

"So, you don't have anyone do you?"

Eurus's eyes shot to Molly's surprised. It was a unique feeling. She was hardly ever surprised anymore.

"Sorry?" she had asked, her disguise slipping for a second.

"Oh, I don't mean to pry. I just meant do you have any family or friends that can stay with you while this gets sorted out?"

"No."

Molly's eyes ran over her face before she set down her cup and Eurus felt this uncomfortable pricking at her spine.

"I'm sorry. I know what its like. To be lonely, I mean- you look lonely..."

Eurus felt her mouth go dry and her heart thud. It was extraordinary. Who is this Hooper person?

"Would you like to stay for dinner? I could order some takeaway and find something awful on the telly to watch?"

Oh Sherlock. You never had a chance.

"No, you've been kind enough already but I really should get going."

"Do you want me to call you a cab?"

"No, I'm ok to walk. I think it unlikely I should be mugged twice in the same day."

"Alright," said Molly uncertainly as she moved to let her out. "Well if you need anything, you know where I live."

"I do, don't I? Thank you again Molly."

Three blocks later, Eurus retrieved her bag from its hiding place and removed her phone.

"Yes, I'm ready. And let the others know that there are to be no bombs at Molly Hooper's... Well I don't care where you stash them... Put them in a dumpster for all I care. We can still play our little games without them."

She hung up the phone, satisfied with her decision. Molly Hooper alive is far more interesting than Molly Hooper dead.

Besides, she had happened upon a much better game.