"Oh, good," Molly replies with a too-bright smile, barely managing to bite back a laugh. It's completely fucking meaningless, of course, when it's an elevator that would function the same way no matter what, but he started it, kind of, and she has no trouble at all playing along. Besides, it's only a matter of moments before the elevator doors slide open — fortunately, there are no other stops on the way up — and then she steps out into the hall, realizing only then that she should maybe have made sure he didn't need to stop at his place for any reason first. It's not like there's a long way to go if he needs to, though, so she ignores it for now. He'll say something, she's sure, if he needs to. Fishing her keys out of her purse so she can unlock her door, she says, "I don't know how my self-esteem could have handled it, otherwise."

She's got more than enough of that, and has never done anything to try to hide it. Most of the time, at least.