"Margaret Ann-Marie," he echoes, turning the name over in his mouth. "You're right to use Molly, it suits you better. Less ordinary."

As he says it, his eyes warm, the realization rolling over him. Like him, she's changed which version of her name she uses in everyday life. There's a sudden sense of connection to her, of a distance being bridged.

It's so strong he doesn't even point out that Mycroft's already done the paper trail and he just hasn't asked to look at it. Not that he ever will. Mycroft has always been far more paranoid about the company he keeps than he himself has.