A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews/follows etc, please keep them coming! :) Sorry that this is a bit short, I promise the next one will be longer!
"Do I have to come?" whined Sherlock, pouting like a five year old.
"Yes," Molly replied sternly, refusing to give in to his puppy-dog eyes. "It is our Goddaughters first birthday, and we need to get her a present."
"But why? She's not old enough to understand that it's her birthday. She'd be happy with a cardboard box!" Sherlock exclaimed.
"That is not the point!" Seeing that his protests were in vain, he sighed deeply and stood.
"You owe me a set of eyeballs," he sulked.
And so it was that two hours later, Molly was cooing over stuffed animals, and baby clothes, whilst Sherlock followed her, absorbed in his mind palace. Suddenly, he was jolted out of it by a tap on his arm. "Sherlock?" Molly tried to get his attention. "I was saying, do you want to go have a look for chemistry texts or something in the book shop downstairs? I can tell you're bored, and I'll meet you in a bit?"
"Thank you!" Sherlock grinned, suddenly cheering up, pecking Molly on the cheek before practically skipping out of the shop glad to escape the hell that was Mothercare.
It took Sherlock precisely eighteen minutes to get kicked out of Waterstones, after a series of insulting deductions when the assistant failed to find him the book he was looking for. Now, he was wandering aimlessly around the centre, wishing that Molly would just choose a present and rescue him from this boredom.
Then a display on his left caught his eye. Almost surprising himself, he entered the shop, and began to browse. Searching through his mind palace, and a specific room, he narrowed down his choices, before spending thirty minutes agonising over which of his two alternatives was the best.
Finally, he left the shop with a small, square box in his jacket pocket, satisfied that he had made the right choice. When his eyes found Molly in the crowds, the box began to feel like it was burning a hole in his pocket, and he felt a rush of nervous energy. It would have to wait until the time was right though, so he calmed himself, and tried to forget about the purchase that he had made.
"There you are," Molly greeted him. "I thought you were going to be in Waterstones?"
"I had a, um, disagreement, with one of the employees," Sherlock replied with a wink, knowing that his pathologist couldn't stay mad at him for long.
"I can't leave you alone for more than five minutes!" she sighed exasperatedly, although she couldn't hide a small smile. "Anyway, I've found something, so if you come with me, you can see if you like it."
They made their way over to Mothercare, where Molly had picked out a cuddly toy rabbit. Sherlock agreed on the condition that it was named Bluebell, thankful that his ordeal was over, and that there would be no more looking at blankets, stuffed animals and picture books.
Approaching the till, they were served by a friendly lady who smiled warmly at them. "Congratulations, is it your first?" she said as she and Molly made small talk and Sherlock waited impatiently. Molly turned bright red, stammering, "Oh, no, I'm not – I mean, we're not parents. It's for my – our, goddaughter!"
Sherlock turned a bit pink too, but couldn't help imagining a little version of him or Molly running around in an over-sized lab coat holding a magnifying glass, an image which he quietly stored away in his mind palace, in a room labelled 'Molly'.
As they left the shop, Molly still red, but smiling to herself when she thought he couldn't see, Sherlock felt even more certain that he had made the right decision concerning his purchase earlier. He would spend the rest of his life with Molly Hooper; he just needed to decide when to produce the ring that currently occupied the box in his jacket.
