A/N: The idea for this came from a list of OTP prompts: "I'm your last customer on christmas eve because it's only now that I've realized I have no wrapping paper." It struck me as totally Sherlock/Molly, so here you go.
If I have to listen to 'The Chipmunk Song' one more time… Molly Hooper, seasonal grocery store cashier, pasted on her best "happy to help you" smile as she rang up her last customer. As soon as the woman was out the door, Molly glanced at her watch. Ten more minutes, then I'll have just enough time to run home and get ready to meet Alexa at the pub. Her manager was hiding in his office – he hated dealing with customers face-to-face, especially this time of year.
Not that I blame him, Molly thought, her eyes still on her watch. Everyone's in a rush, no one remembers how to say "please" or "thank you."
Two minutes before closing, a customer burst through the doors, looking around desperately. Molly suppressed her inner groan when she got a good look at him. Tall, Dark, and To Die For.
"Can I help you?" she asked pleasantly.
He approached her, giving her an even better look at him. About six feet, towering over her own five-foot-three, his hair a windswept mass of black curls that made her fingers itch to arrange them properly, his light blue-green eyes assessing her in a way that should have made her uncomfortable, but instead made her cheeks flush. His own chiseled cheeks were slightly flushed, but she assumed that was from the cold.
"Wrapping paper?" he asked hurriedly.
"Aisle Three, Seasonal Items," she responded automatically, pointing towards it.
He nodded then headed quickly in that direction, his black Belstaff coat billowing behind him. He returned a few minutes later, his arms full of rolls of wrapping paper in various styles and a decidedly overwhelmed expression on his face.
Molly decided to take pity on him. She smiled gently at him and saw him relax a bit in return. "Unless you're wrapping enough presents to supply the army, you don't need this many rolls. Let's narrow it down, shall we?" She removed the foil roll and the one with thick paper accented with glitter. "Foil never folds properly. Neither does paper this thick, and the glitter just gets everywhere." She then removed the cheapest and most expensive rolls. "The cheap ones tear when you try to cut them, and you don't really need the grid lines on the back that the designer paper has – most people are perfectly capable of cutting a straight line on their own." There were still half a dozen rolls left, each with a different print. "Whose presents do you still need to wrap?"
"Everyone's," the man said sheepishly.
That deep voice of his is just icing on an already delectable cake, she thought. She said in a gently teasing tone, "It's Christmas Eve and you haven't started wrapping yet? Typical man."
He chuckled softly, the sound making Molly's toes curl. "I was working. Normally, my landlady would wrap the gifts for me, but she's visiting her sister for the holidays. I was about to start when I realized I don't have any wrapping paper."
"Alright, you're forgiven this time," she said, grinning. "So, who's 'everyone?'"
"My eleven-month-old goddaughter and my best friends – her parents. Also, my landlady and my, er, friend."
"Girlfriend?" she asked innocently, or as innocently as she could while really, really wanting to know the answer.
"God, no," he blurted out. At her raised eyebrow, he elaborated. "Gavin's someone I work with, but I've come to realize he's a friend too."
"So, no girlfriend, then?"
"That position remains open."
Mmm, that's not the only position I want to fill with you. She looked over the remaining paper. "You can use the cartoon Santas for the baby. For the adults, the red paper with the white snowflakes will do nicely. Unless you have big presents or quite a lot, one roll of each should be enough."
The man smiled gratefully. "Thank you." He paid for the two rolls and watched her bag them then took the bag and started to walk to the doors when he suddenly stopped and turned back to her. "The name's Sherlock Holmes."
Molly felt herself grinning. Good, now I have a name to go with the face. "Molly Hooper." She glanced down at herself then smiled at him again. "Though, you knew my first name from my nametag."
Sherlock nodded. "I can tell you have plans for tonight and I have plans for tomorrow. I was going to ask what you're doing for New Year's, but sod it, I can't wait that long. Got any plans for Boxing Day?"