A/N: Based on the September 17th prompt - "Write about a purchase." Rated K, stand-alone.
The knocking on her door roused Molly from her doze on the couch. Who could that be? I told them all to stay away. As she sat up, wads of tissue she hadn't yet thrown out fell off her pajama-clad chest and landed on the floor. She quickly scooped them up and dropped them in the small plastic bin nearby then got and pulled on her robe on her way to the door.
One glance through the peephole had her groaning quietly. I should've known, he never listens. She opened the door and glared at the unrequited love of her life. "Sherlock, I told you, I don't want any visitors. I can't have anyone else getting sick."
Sherlock grinned and damn if it didn't make her knees go weak like it did when they first met. Must be the meds. "No need to worry, Molly – I'm never ill. Germs know better than to try to reside in me."
She thought that one over. I've seen him hungover, high, and recuperating but damn him, he's right – I've never seen him ill. She sighed quietly. "Fine, but don't blame me if bronchitis decides the fight is worth it." She coughed into her elbow then looked back at him. "Come on in, if you dare. And what's in the bags?"
Sherlock followed her into the kitchen. "Consider it a care package from John and Mary. As soon as they heard you were sick, they said there were things you needed."
"And they sent you so they wouldn't risk passing this on to Rosie," Molly finished. "That's … very thoughtful of all of you. Thank you."
He grinned even wider than before. "You're welcome." Setting the bags on the counter, he emptied them. Bananas, cups of microwavable instant rice, cups of applesauce, a loaf of bread, two boxes of tissues, the latest novel from her favorite romance author, and an iTunes gift card took up most of the counter.
Molly scowled in confusion. "I recognize the food as being the BRAT diet and I'm almost out of tissues, so thank the Watsons for being thoughtful, but the other two?"
Sherlock's cheeks turned slightly pink. "They're from me. I thought the book and some music or perhaps a movie of your choice would distract you from your ailment and the boredom that results from being stuck home alone."
Her heart melted. "Sherlock, if I weren't contagious, I'd kiss you right now."
He smirked. "I think I can risk it."
One week later…
"For God's sake, Molly, I'm dying and you have the gall to giggle?" Sherlock demanded from where he lay on his sitting room sofa.
Molly grinned at her boyfriend of six-and-a-half days. "You're not dying, you're just ill."
"No thanks to you," he muttered as he turned onto his side, away from her.
She playfully rolled her eyes. He's lucky he's cute. "Behave and I'll tell you what I ordered from the Victoria's Secret site while you were in the shower."
"Did you get the red or the black?" he asked over his shoulder.
"I don't know why I bother trying to surprise you." I got both but he doesn't have to know that yet.
"Because you love me, even when I act like the world's biggest toddler," he said hopefully.
"Yeah, there's that."