Sherlock muses on his life up until this point.

Sherlock wondered, if he did find the woman he was meant to be with, would she actually see his transformation up close or would it happen when she wasn't looking?

Not that it mattered. Just as long as he was free from this cat body, he would marry her the next day if she would have him. That is how desperate he was to be a man again. It was too bad, really, because Missy had an older sister who'd taken a shine to him, but before he could see where things would go, he was run over by a large eighteen wheeler.

A lesser man would have probably gone mad from being in cat form and dying three times, but Sherlock prided himself on being superior to the ordinary man. Although, he significantly mellowed out during his several lives. When he awakened in this new one, still with the same black fur and blue-green eyes, he found that he was in England again, and in a pet shop, no less.

Sherlock was sure that Janine was somewhere laughing at his unhappy predicament, but he conceded that he was partly to blame for this unfortunate circumstance. Perhaps if he had found a different way to nab Magnussen, he'd still be living as a man back in the 18th century.

Although, it was a bit unfair to have your heart tested by a woman who led you to believe she was just a maid when she was really an enchantress. Evidently, the world was full of magical beings if one knew where to look, but Sherlock wasn't going to cross paths with them. Not if he could help it. One encounter had been more than enough.

Sherlock then thought of Molly. She lost a cat of her own but from the persuasion of her friend, Mary, she chose to look for a new pet and picked him. He had become resigned to the belief that he would never meet his true love and eventually just perish in cat form for good.

And yet...there had been a spark. When Molly looked into Sherlock's eyes, he felt a tingling in his furry body that surprised him and made him gaze back at her. Something felt right about this woman in front of him, like she was meant to find him.

When Molly had picked him, he hadn't hesitated jumping into her arms the minute Tilda opened his tiny pen. It had been so long since he felt a person's hands run against his fur and as Molly rubbed between his ears and smoothed her fingers along the expanse of his back, Sherlock felt a rush of happiness run through him.

For the first time in a long time, perhaps forever, Sherlock felt like he had found a home. Was she the one?

Only time will tell, he thought to himself.

Molly's big brown eyes looked so adoringly at him and when she said, almost in wonder, "Oh, I think I'm already falling in love with him," Sherlock felt like he might yell in exhilaration. His hopes couldn't help but go up from her affection.

Once she finished signing the paperwork and paid for him, Molly carried him in her arms and decided to walk home. That was perfectly alright with Sherlock, of course. Being held by this woman was a pleasure.