Returning to her flat after a particularly busy day in the morgue, various images of dead bodies still vividly fresh in her mind, it took Molly Hooper a moment to be startled by the sight of her temporary flat mate. Molly had become familiar with most of Sherlock Holmes' peculiar habits during the past two years; after the death of Jim Moriarty and Sherlock's public "suicide", he had stayed in her home when he wasn't solving cases in the mainland of Europe. He had worked tirelessly to arrange the downfall of Moriarty's network of criminals while maintaining a low profile in Europe to stave off boredom and keep those he cared most about safe from Moriarty's gang. Molly had become accustomed to his habits of leaving at all hours of the night with little notice, his smoking of both cigarettes and other less than legal substances and his strange experiments with body parts and various chemicals. However, she had never known him to use injected drugs and had her own powers of observation not been sharpened by Sherlock's proximity she would have thought him dead as she entered her flat. He lay completely motionless on the couch, complexion paler than normal (if that were possible), and barely visible signs of respiratory and circulatory functions working. The only clues that he wasn't dead were the slight flutters of his eyelids over hazy unfocused eyes and the spent syringe and needle loosely grasped in a hand that hung off the edge of the couch. Suddenly, apparently aware of Molly's return, Sherlock rose to a sitting position like a corpse rising from the dead, all the signs of the drug induced stupor dissolving away like sugar in the rain.
"Molly, it's good to see that you've finally returned. We have urgent business to discuss," he began. "Colon Moran, Moriarty's second in command, has finally made the mistake of leaving London and pushing his agenda beyond England. A string of unsolved homicides in Paris and his sudden disappearance from have convinced me that he's attempting to spread his influence and network throughout Europe even farther than Moriarty had. If we move quickly, we may by chance frustrate those plans and bring Moran and the rest of Moriarty's core network closer to facing justice. I'll need a companion in Paris for the next two weeks so I need you to take leave from St. Bart's to accompany me. It's still too dangerous to involve John of Lestrade yet so I trust I can rely on your help on this important case. All the arrangements have already been made. Will you be ready to leave tomorrow morning?"
Molly stood speechless for a few moments before nodding her consent. She had accompanied Sherlock on cases on his request before because of the danger to Sherlock's acquaintances and friend should the wrong people learn that Sherlock still lived, but now Sherlock trusted her to assist him on a high stakes case in Paris. While the romantic irony did not escape her, Molly was mostly honored that Sherlock had so much trust and faith in her and her ability to assist him in his work. As she went to pack for the next two weeks and call off work, she prayed that she would be a help to the man she had admired for so long.
Sherlock watched Molly as she left to make preparations for their trip, reading the flurry of her thoughts through her face and body language. He smiled to himself and was glad for the ally he had in this loyal, courageous, remarkable woman. He was glad that his often cruel indifference to her in the past had not destroyed her belief in him and that he had realized what horrible things he was capable of doing to her when he wasn't careful. He was glad for her companionship, reliability and generosity. If sentiment was truly a defect then loyalty and trust were assets and qualities on par with sentiment for another. Better any person as an ally than a lover and in Molly he had found a perfect ally. And for all that he was very glad and thankful.
