I wish I own Sherlock.
Molly could tell Sherlock didn't enjoy shopping. That's was honestly the main reason she dragged him along to look at horrendous decorations for a whole afternoon. As they walked through the crowded shopping mall, Molly rested her head against his bicep, smiling as she felt him loop his arm around her waist and bring her closer. Sherlock had finally gotten past his initial embarrassment when they first started dating as was now more affectionate, even in public. Well, around strangers at least. He was yet to face his fear of affection in front of people he knew.
"Sherlock, do you mind if I look around a little? Please?" she asked, pointing to a designer jewelry store. Sherlock groaned.
"But I want to get back. Molly, you said that we would be in and out. You can't go back on your word."
"Please, Sherlock, please? You know I never get to go." She said, putting on a small pout. Sherlock knew he could win this debate if he bothered, but letting down Molly was not on that days agenda. Besides, if she was angry, they'd have no…fun, later. He sighed.
"Fine." Molly grinned widely and hugged the man before dumping all her shopping on him and walking in. Sherlock sighed again, praying that a text from Lestrade would come in soon.
Half and hour later, Molly was in the fifth store, looking at yet another set of diamonds and rubies. Sherlock sat on a cushioned chair, texting John.
"Sherlock, come look at this." Molly called out suddenly. Sherlock walked over to where Molly was stood with an assistant, who was unashamedly checking him out. He smirked at her, deducing the woman.
Bleached hair, too much make up, tries to catch every man she gets. Obviously in early twenty's. Soft hands, never seen work. Rich, father owns this store. Forced to work here, but still paid.
"Look at this." Molly said, snapping him out of his reverie. She smirked slightly, is ever a time when he gives his brain a rest? She glanced down at the pendants in her palm. They were beautiful; a simple magnifying glass with embedded emeralds, and small, silver heart.
"Hmmm." Sherlock murmured. Molly huffed and rolled her eyes at him before handing the pendants back to the annoying assistant.
"Will you be buying these?"
"No thanks." She said, a fake smile plastered on her face.
"Well, thank you for coming." The woman said, her voice laced and dripping with sarcasm. She gave a wink to Sherlock and whispered 'call me!' while pointing at his hand.
The couple left the store.
"Another one tried her luck with you?" Sherlock laughed at Molly's comment. He unballed his fist, revealing a crumpled piece of paper.
"Apparently so." He said, before flinging the paper behind his back. He frowned. "You know, you have enough money saved to buy those two pendants. Why didn't you?"
"Because Sherlock, I wanted them, but I didn't need them. I already have everything I need. Now come on, let's get home."
"So I followed you around five different stores, after you finished all the apparently necessary shopping, for no reason." Molly turned to look at him, a grin playing on her lips.
"It's funny when you do boyfriend things." She said simply, before turning around and walking away. Sherlock stood for a few seconds, gaping at the pathologist.
"Bloody woman." He muttered, before following.
0o0o0o0o
The doorbell rang loudly throughout the apartment. When no one answered, it, the annoying jingle rang again. In the shower, Molly sighed and turned of the tap and hurriedly dried herself; once again the jingle echoed through the apartment. Huffing, she shrugged on a T-shirt and slacks before shrugging on her robe as she walked up to the front door.
Most people would be surprised, scared even if the found that their door-lock was being picked. Molly merely stood, arms crossed, glaring at the door above her. Tapping her foot, she waited until the knob turned and the door opened.
She glared at Sherlock once before turning around and making her way into the kitchen.
"Sherlock Holmes, what have I told you about breaking into my apartment?" she asked as she grabbed to mugs from the cabinet. She heard the rustling of fabric as Sherlock hung his coat on the rack.
"That I shouldn't. However, you were in the shower and I couldn't get in."
"Then you wait, Sherlock. You wait 'til I get out." Sherlock made a sound of disproval as he lounged on the sofa.
"Waiting is for all the small minded people in the world who have nothing better to do with their sorry lives." Molly put the kettle on, shaking her head, smiling.
"Are you calling me small-minded Mr. Holmes?" she asked as she walked into the living area.
"Yes." He stated plainly, as he flicked through the channels on the telly. Molly raised an eyebrow as she stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his view.
"Really? Okay, then Mr. I-Know-Everything, I'll just take my small-minded self somewhere else. I'm sure you can forgive me if my small mind forgot I'm dating you and takes Josh up on that offer. Or worse, I may forget and put milk in your coffee." She said smirking. She turned around to walk back into the kitchen, when she felt an arm looping around her waist. With a yelp, she fell backwards, her right side falling onto Sherlock and her left onto the soft cushions.
"NO, no milk." He said, holding her down as she tried to squirm away "besides," he said, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "I find you small mindedness somewhat…endearing." Sherlock moved his hand to cup Molly's face and tilt it towards his. He leaned down and captured her lips bringing it closer. He felt Molly grin against him and smirked back, leaning in. Molly was pushed back against the sofa and realised exactly where this was going, Her suspicions were prove correct when she felt Sherlock long finger work nimbly up her T-shirt. She laughed against the kiss before breaking in, still laughing. Sherlock looked at her incredulously.
"What?" he asked, looking absolutely bewildered and confused. "Who laughs while kissing?" he muttered before trying to claim her lips again. Molly chuckled and pushed Sherlock away.
"I don't know what's gotten into you Sherlock. Before we started dating, sex was a waste of your precious time, and now everytime you see me, you want to jump my bones. Now I'm not complaining, unless I'm at work of course, but is this to make up for over twenty years of no sex at all?" The kettle began whistling, so Molly unwrapped herself from Sherlock and made her way into the kitchen.
Sherlock followed her, waiting for the pathologist to set the boiled water down before hugging her waist from behind.
"It isn't my fault you're so delicious and irresistible." He muttered, leaning down to nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck. Molly sighed softly. It was times like these she honestly loved the best, other than the ones in bed of course. When they were at home, in private, Sherlock would be the most romantic, and well, domestic men she'd ever had. He made her feel comfortable and at home.
Molly set about making the tea, before setting it on the kitchen table and allowing herself to be enveloped in Sherlock's arms. She took in his musky scent and nestled herself into his shirt, feeling his heart thudding against his chest.
"A package came for you. I signed for it. It's on the coffee table." He said suddenly. Molly pulled back and swerved around him, heading back for the living room.
"Who was it from?"
"It didn't say."
"Well who was it from anyway? I'm sure you deduced it."
"I didn't."
"Oh, Sherlock, I know that you never listen to me and the word privacy isn't in that enormous vocabulary of yours. Just tell me." Molly grabbed the box and sat it on her lap as she fell back against the sofa. Sherlock leaned against the wall next to her, smirking.
"I think a little of my vast intelligence is rubbing of on you, Molly."
"Don't be a pompous git Sherlock, just tell me." she heard Sherlock chuckle as she examined the box. It was quite long, and a bit wide, but not very high. It was wrapped in plain wrapping paper of her favourite colour: purple. A bow that was a darker shade of the wrapping paper was tied neatly on the top. Writing in black ink was scrawled on the present neatly stating 'to, Molly'. She looked up, listening to Sherlock speak.
"I say by the colour of the wrapping paper, this person knows you quite well, as he picked your favourite colour. Either that, or the man got lucky. It is also the same person who sent you the flowers, as the bow on both presents are exactly the same. And judging from what the present is, this person definitely knows you very well."
"What's the present?"
"Unwrap it and find out, Molly." The woman stuck her tongue out childishly at Sherlock, before hurriedly unwrapping the gift.
Molly gasped as she took of the lid from the box. Nestled in protective paper lay a pair of very expensive looking shoes. They were very strappy stilettos, five inches at least, and were a shimmering, gold colour. As Molly inspected further, she noticed the bright dotted rhinestones over all the straps. She grinned as she tried them on.
"These are beautiful. Who bought these? They must have cost a fortune!"
Molly turned back to the unwrapped, empty box and looked inside in case there was a note she missed. Finding one, she flipped it over, reading the black, printed letters.
Perfect shoes for a perfect woman.
Molly grinned.
"Not sure about the last bit, but the first is so very true- these shoes are amazing!" she looked up to catch Sherlock scowling. The grin immediately fell from her face. Stepping out of the shoes, Molly walked over to Sherlock.
"What's wrong sweetheart?" she asked. The scowl deepened; Molly frowned, at home terms of endearment never affected Sherlock.
"What do you think, Molly?" he asked, moving past her and settling on the armchair nearest the telly. He switched it on and began flicking through random channels.
"If I didn't know, I wouldn't be asking." Molly stated calmly. Sherlock kept his eyes glued on the screen.
"This is obviously from an admirer."
"How do you know? It could be from one of my girlfriends. Hell, it's probably Mary being Mary." She stated.
"It isn't a woman. Women don't send flowers and shoes to each other, and I know what Mary got you. It is painfully obvious." Molly sighed. If Sherlock wasn't going to meet her gaze, she was going to make him. She walked around his legs, and kneeled on the ground, resting her chin and arms on the arm of the chair. She stared pointedly at him until her resignedly looked down.
"Even if it was an admirer, why do you care?"
"Isn't it obvio-of course not." He said "you like all this attention. Which clearly shows you aren't getting enough from me. Also, you're going to be prancing around in those." He said, spitting out the last word like a bad taste, while pointing at the heels lying innocently on the ground. At this Molly chuckled, earning a glare from Sherlock.
"Oh, Sherlock. You don't honestly believe I'm not getting enough attention from you? We wouldn't be together if that were the case. But yes, I do admit I'm enjoying the gifts. It's nice to know that I'm still fanciable eventhough I'm taken- by you nonetheless. And the gifts are not something I receive very often, which I am completely fine with. Honestly Sherlock, and it's not like I'm going to wear those anywhere other than for formal functions, unless you don't want me to, then I won't." she moved up and walked around before settling herself on Sherlock's lap. "I love you and you know that, so stop being unreasonable and hammer in that loose nail in that big palace of yours." She said before trying to force Sherlock to look at her. After failing, she removed her hands and moved up to sit on the armrest. Tilting her head down, she let her hair fall over his face, tickling his nose. He batted away her hair, before glaring at her. She smiled softly at him, causing him to soften, slightly.
"I love you," she whispered, before kissing him softly. Pulling back, she cupped his face softly, tracing the lines of his cheekbones with her thumbs.
"Only you." She said, before capturing his lips once more.
0o0o0o0o0
Later found the couple lounged on the sofa, watching TV. Sherlock was sat in the middle, while Molly leaned against the armrest, draping her legs over Sherlock's lap.
"Who do you think the gift sender is?" she asked as she sipped her tea.
"Whoever he is, I don't think he'll try anything more than this on you."
"And why is that? Are you saying I'm unapproachable?"
"Of course not. The fool will just have to answer to me." Molly laughed shaking her head, moving around to plant a kiss on the edge of the detective's wide smirk.
Chapter and Present Two down, ten more to go! Thank you to all the reviewers and followers, you guys keep me going.
Yukkin: Love you, man- you're awesome xx
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-Ash
