The detective and blogger looked down at the bodies of seven women. They all looked identical. Brown hair, brown eyes, mousy and pale.

"Erm, Sherlock…?"

"Yes, John, I see. Spitting images." Sherlock and John continued to stare at the women who were all lying in bizarre poses, blood pooling around them.

Greg walked over to them and stood by Sherlock, crossing his arms as he walked. "Thoughts?"

"Keep Molly Hooper away from the morgue when you get these bodies in," Sherlock told him.

No-one looked up. Everyone stared at the body and the silent contract was made. Molly Hooper was never to know about these murders. She could never know how similar those women looked. She could never know that she could be another target.

"How do we catch them?" Lestrade asked, breaking Sherlock from his trance.

He looked up from the bodies and around at all the forensics and police officers. "Everyone out now."

Grumbling, people began to leave, some shooting Lestrade glares as they did so. "What are you thinking, Sherlock?"

"Every woman who looks similar is a potential target and need to be protected. No woman is safe," Sherlock replied.

"I could've told you that," a forensics woman grumbled under her breath while walking out.

Sherlock began to deduce what he could about the women. All he could see, however, was the face of Molly Hooper on each and every one of them. He decided that he needed to apologise to Molly before it was too late. Given the current circumstance (and the fact he just finished watching the TV series Hannibal) Sherlock had decided that the killer may be looking for his golden ticket amongst all the women of London. As ineffectual a Hannibal was, Will Graham may have had a point that rings true. However, Sherlock was not a psychoanalyst and any psychoanalysts he met were more often than not pretentious arseholes. He hoped for Molly's sake that she was not the golden ticket nor seen by the murderer.

Sherlock's head began to reel. Was Moriarty behind this? Was this his way of letting Sherlock know that he knew of all the connections Sherlock possessed? No matter what this was, Sherlock was going to keep Molly safe, even if that meant locking her in her flat for the rest of her life. Maybe not that extreme… Sherlock still needed his pathologist. And he'd probably forget to feed her. And she'd be a sitting duck.

"What are you getting?" Sherlock asked John.

Both men sank down beside a woman and began to try and deduce what they could.

"Nothing. The only thing I can think of is Molly and Poppy."

Sherlock froze and looked up at John. "Poppy?"

"My girlfriend! Do you always have to be an insensitive tw-"

"If they look alike, we could use Poppy as bait. We'll have to watch her every move, who she talks to, where she goes, everything. We can catch him."

"Wait, him?"

"It's obvious." Sherlock said before standing up and walking out of the room. The blogger jumped up and followed suit.

There was silence in Molly's flat. She sat alone, thinking about how she could go into work tomorrow with the possibility of Sherlock turning up. She paled thinking about his words. She hadn't seen him at work that day which made her feel so relieved. He hadn't even apologised for the other day, let alone tried to.

Toby had jumped onto her lap moments before the phone rang. She picked him up and walked over to the phone, knowing he'd hiss if she pushed him off her lap.

"Molly Hooper speaking."

A deep voice was on the other end of the phone. "Good evening, Doctor Hooper. It's Boris Wekly here from Bart's. I'm afraid that due to some complications, you and Rochelle have had to switch shifts tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Of course, Mr Wekly. What time am I starting tomorrow?" she asked, feeling Toby's claws sinking into her shoulder.

"Ten past three, if that suits."

"Alright. Thank you for calling."

And with that, Boris hung up, leaving Molly on the line, wondering what the complications were and why the new employee had to take the busy shift. Molly wasn't going to get home until at least nine that night. Nonetheless, Molly set another alarm on her phone, reminding her to leave at quarter to three the next day.

Little did she know the complication was that the entire investigation team on the seven women case all at the morgue through the morning. Sherlock had requested that Molly got no hint of the case at hand and everyone kept their mouths shut.

John, on the other hand, was ordered to take Polly ("Her name is Poppy, Sherlock!") out to lunch where he was supposed to break up with her. While this was happening, Mycroft and his best men would break into Poppy's flat, bug the entire place, put undetectable microscopes on her clothes and make sure not to move a single thing in case she's a paranoid person or she is very particular and immaculate about everything. And while everyone was doing that, Sherlock was going to sitting in the morgue for most of the day, making sure no-one disturbs the woman too much. He'll watch the autopsy and prepare everything for when Molly arrives at three.

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day for everyone involved.