Dr. John Watson had called Molly Hopper at three in the afternoon on a Saturday—about a month and a half after the whole Moriarty, Sherlock, Watson standoff, and the completely awkward reveal of "Oh! Forgot to mention, but your boyfriend Jim, from IT, isn't who you think he is. Turns out, he's a criminal mastermind and the world's only 'Consulting Criminal', alright?"—to ask her—beg is a more suitable word—to please come by to pick up all of the body parts Sherlock had amassed in their small refrigerator.
Molly was reluctant and told John that couldn't he just drop it off at Barts during one of her more numerous shifts?
"Nope, 'fraid not", he said over the phone, "it must be you that collects the body parts."
Molly sighed, with her free hand massaging her temple, "Alright", she mutters, "but only if Sherlock isn't there."
"Oh! I get it! You don't have to explain anything," John said, loudly, "Sherlock can be very attached to his body parts so I'll try to get him out of the flat for a few hours, okay?"
That wasn't why Molly didn't want Sherlock to be there, but Molly, not really wanting to talk about it, went along with it. "That'd be great. I'll be there in an hour."
"Fantastic!" John yelled with enthusiasm, "and the address is 221B Baker Street."