A Very Important Shopping Trip

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"So, tell me everything!" she insisted, handing them each a mug and setting hers on the counter while she fetched their presents.
"Well, it was really awkward at first; they had no idea how to handle it." Sherlock started.
"It was kind of funny, looking back. Terribly awkward when I was there though." John admitted.
"But there was no problem, I mean, they didn't kick us to the curb, in fact, they loved John." Sherlock decided.
"It was actually kind of weird, I was like a son and I was only there a long weekend." John agreed.
"As I said, you're a likable guy. And I'm sure you used your parent charm." Molly insisted.
"I don't have a parent charm." John defended.
"Tell that to my parents." Sherlock insisted.
"Yes well, maybe a little." John admitted. The two of them sat on the couch, Hell Spawn hopping up from the floor onto John's lap, purring louder than a phone on vibrate.
"Shame, I had half expected that thing to be dead when I returned. Hopefully frozen to death outside." Sherlock decided, and Hell Spawn hissed at him, rubbing up to John's chest as if to claim him as hers.
"Watch it cat, he's mine." Sherlock insisted, swatting the cat until it jumped down and scampered into the bedroom.
"Do you really feel threatened by the cat?" John asked with a half a laugh.
"I'm not taking any chances with a stud like you." Sherlock assured.
"There it is again! You're on a roll!" John laughed. Molly went over to the Christmas tree and pulled out two presents, all nicely wrapped with a bow and everything.
"Thanks Molly!" John said happily. Sherlock waited until he opened his until he thanked her. So he wrapped the package open, by the size he expected a tie or something, but no. He opened it up, and the plastic demonic face of Barbie stared back at him.
"Is this a joke?" he asked, ripping the rest of the wrapping paper away to show John his new Barbie doll.
"Aw look, we match." John laughed, displaying a Ken doll.
"I thought that would be perfect for you two." Molly laughed.
"Thanks Molly..." Sherlock muttered.
"Like you said, I spend half of my money on you two anyway." Molly pointed out. John opened his package; breaking all of the rubber bands and making the Ken doll kiss Sherlock on the cheek.
"It kind of looks like you." Molly laughed.
"You're right, he does look plastic." Sherlock agreed, and John whacked Sherlock on the head with his empty doll box.
"Well, you have a shocking resemblance to Barbie." John agreed.
"Heck yes I do, but my beauty far outmatches hers." Sherlock agreed, flipping his imaginary hair over his shoulder.
"For someone with short hair, you flip your hair more than I do." Molly observed.
"Well, I've got to get my point across." Sherlock defended.
"And you can only do that by flipping your hair?" Molly laughed.
"Don't judge me." Sherlock insisted.
"Oh, we are." John assured with a laugh. Sherlock just sighed, sipping his hot chocolate and longing on the couch once more. This time though, he stuck his feet in John's face as a bit of revenge. Molly told them all about the gifts she had gotten, all of the things she did with her family, and in turn John and Sherlock told her about Mycroft, Uncle Rick, and the Great Omelet Tragedy. Sherlock could almost swear he saw tears forming in John's eyes as he recalled the heartbreaking events. After a while, it started to get late, and once Sherlock finished his fifth cup of hot chocolate, John decided that he should probably get unpacking and let Dudley out, who was surely whining at the door by now.
"You go ahead; I'll help Molly with the dishes." Sherlock agreed.
"I can help too, it's not urgent." John assured.
"Go unpack John." Sherlock insisted.
"Anxious to get rid of me?" John asked with a laugh.
"Haven't been able to all weekend." Sherlock agreed, getting to his feet and straightening out his coat.
"Yes well, it's not like you're a real treat to be around." John insisted.
"Love you." Sherlock decided.
"Love you too, idiot." John agreed, pressing a quick kiss onto Sherlock's lips before grabbing his Ken doll and departing. Once John was gone, Sherlock grabbed the mugs and set them on the counter, with no intention of cleaning of course.
"Why'd you get rid of him?" Molly asked.
"I want to go shopping tomorrow." Sherlock decided.
"Ooh, going to get his favorite food? But you just don't know what it is?" Molly laughed.
"No, Molly, I need your help." Sherlock decided.
"What could you possibly need my help buying?" Molly asked. Sherlock sighed, looking down at the floor kind of guiltily.
"I need help buying a ring." He muttered. He was half expecting Molly to laugh at him, tell him how he's hardly known John a year now, and how they could never get married. But she didn't, instead, Molly made an inhuman screeching noise and hugged Sherlock so hard that he was afraid his esophagus was crushed.
"Oh my god, oh my god, this is amazing, this is the best news I've heard all day!" she exclaimed.
"It's not stupid? Do you think I'm rushing this?" Sherlock muttered.
"Well, you're going to ask him to marry you?" Molly asked.
"No Molly, I want lifelong friendship." Sherlock snapped.
"Alright, alright, no need to get snippy. I think that's a wonderful idea Sherlock, absolutely wonderful! Why now, what made up your mind?" Molly asked.
"Well, John was hinting to it over the weekend, well, not really hinting, more like saying flat out that he was going to marry me, but I kind of wanted to be the one to ask. I think it would be more appropriate, as I said, he spends all this money on me, I should probably buy the ring." Sherlock shrugged.
"I doubt you could afford a plastic engagement ring." Molly pointed out.
"Well, I don't know, maybe I could borrow some money? Maybe I could try to sell a few paintings?" Sherlock shrugged.
"I'll lend you some, of course I will, oh this is spectacular!" Molly decided.
"Do you think if we get married that we'll have to share an apartment? Is that how it works?" Sherlock asked.
"Don't worry about that, it's the rest of your life! You're going to get married!" Molly exclaimed, hugging him once more and shaking Sherlock around in excitement.
"I'm going to ask, it's not official." Sherlock insisted, pushing her off of him but smiling all the same.
"Do your parents know?" Molly asked.
"Ya, they uh, well, they told me that they approve of him and would be fine if we got married. So I'm going to take advantage of that." Sherlock decided.
"You two are perfect together, oh goodness I'm like Cupid!" Molly insisted, jumping around.
"So, tomorrow, do you want to get it?" Sherlock asked.
"How are we going to shake John off?" Molly asked.
"We'll make something up." Sherlock shrugged.
"Alright then, alright, this is amazing!" Molly said excitedly, leaning in for another hug, but Sherlock stepped back.
"I'm pretty sure my neck is bruised enough already." He insisted.
"Can I be the maid of honor?" she asked.
"Well, I was kind of thinking of dressing Mycroft up in a dress and wig..." Sherlock sighed, and Molly just slapped him. "Of course you're going to be the maid of honor; you're the one who got us together!" Sherlock assured. Molly jumped in the air in excitement, flailing her feet around and looking like she could sing.
"This is amazing, this is so perfect..." Molly decided.
"Alright, keep your voice down, it's still a secret." Sherlock pointed out.
"Sorry, I'll shut up." Molly assured, covering her mouth as if she were about to scream Sherlock's plans down the hallway unintentionally.
"I should get going, things to do, and he'll wonder what we're talking about." Sherlock decided.
"Especially with all this screeching." Molly agreed.
"Thanks Molly." Sherlock decided, nodding his appreciation.
"Well, I would say anytime, but this is going to be the only time!" Molly said exclaimed.
"Maybe this was a bad idea..." Sherlock muttered, but just laughed, grabbing his Barbie doll and walking out into the hallway. He took a deep breath, trying to wipe the smile off of his face before marching up the stairs to his flat. Would they have to share an apartment? They kind of already did, Sherlock was never in his apartment except for when he had to shower or get changed. They'd figure out the practicalities another time, right now however, Sherlock had to focus on the now. As in, how was he going to afford an engagement ring, especially when he could barely buy his own bread? So Sherlock went digging around, anywhere he could possibly have stashed money. He left a mere twenty dollars in his dresser for necessities, but Moran wasn't due until a couple of weeks and he could live off of Ramen noodles for as long as he needed to. Besides, the ring was more important than anything money could buy. He was going to ask John to marry him, as in, together forever, no turning back; they were going to be a legal couple. Sherlock's heart nearly swelled with the anticipation, showing off their rings to everyone, holding hands in public, the wedding, seeing Mycroft's disgusted face as Sherlock and John kissed on the altar, making it official, making sure everyone knew that there were no gender boundaries on love... Sherlock sighed, collecting a grand total of one hundred and seventy dollars, a one dollar coin, and thirty two cents. It wasn't bad, for just getting a job. Sherlock collected all of that money into a big pile on the floor, sitting cross legged on the carpet and staring up at the picture of John, still on the easel. It was beautiful; it captured John the way only Sherlock saw him, that immense, pure beauty that nothing else in this world was capable of creating. The light, the love, the beauty, and somehow, it was all contained into one person. It was all contained in John Watson, his John Watson. Sherlock sighed, lying down on the carpet beside his small pile of money with a ridiculous smile on his face, staring at the ceiling and imagining a life with John by his side. Seeing John smile as Sherlock walked down the aisle, seeing John in his fancy suit, with that gorgeous smile on his face, sliding a ring over John's finger, as a permanent mark of their love, moving in together, raising a child together, growing old together, sitting beside each other in their rocking chairs, their wrinkled fingers still grasping each other as they rocked slowly back and forth...all with John and only John. And that was Sherlock's version of heaven. And soon, so soon, it would be a reality. But how would he ask him? Would he get on one knee in a fancy restaurant, would he ask in the middle of the coffee shop, or just in the hallway, on the stairs where they shared their first kiss? It was all so complicated, but it had to be perfect. What would John's idea of perfect be? The coffee shop might be too public, yet the stairway would be too bland, Sherlock would have to take him for dinner somewhere. He'd have to take John to a fancy restaurant, somewhere classy, but affordable, and somewhere romantic. Maybe they could take a walk down to the lake front or something, or a parkway illuminated with leftover Christmas lights. Sherlock could only imagine the look of happiness, the look of pure surprise on John's face when he asked. The hope shining in his face, the light in his eyes, Sherlock took a deep breath, smiling to himself while sprawled out on the floor, breathing it all in. This was going to be his life from now on, smiling, happiness, love. And John was the only one that he ever wanted to share it with.                       

     Sherlock must've fallen asleep on the carpet, because when he woke up he had balled up the fabric into a makeshift pillow, his neck aching and his spine feeling like it was going to snap. He was confused about what had woken him, surely not his alarm clock; it was in the other room? But then he heard it again, loud, obnoxious knocking on his door.
"Get up you idiot, I'll break this door down!" John's voice threatened. If it had been anyone else, Sherlock might've been angry, but it was John, it was his John, how could he possibly be upset? Sherlock sprang to his feet, hastily throwing a blanket over his pile of money and running to the door.
"Good morning my love!" Sherlock exclaimed, pulling John into a sleepy good morning kiss.
"Sherlock, yes, good morning, we're already late, Molly's throwing a fit." John insisted.
"God, it's already time to leave?" Sherlock asked with a groan.
"Why are you dressed?" John asked.
"I fell asleep on the floor last night." Sherlock shrugged.
"Why were you on the floor?" John asked with a laugh.
"Where's Molly?" Sherlock asked, quickly changing the topic and looking down the hall.
"She's in her flat, mumbling about your lack of time management." John shrugged.
"Probably doing more than mumbling." Sherlock guessed, grabbing his coat.
"Aren't you going to freshen up a bit?" John asked.
"No need." Sherlock shrugged.
"Sherlock, you're going to a professional world, go brush your hair, I'll meet you downstairs in two minutes." John insisted, pushing Sherlock lightly back inside and shutting the door. Sherlock sighed, throwing his coat on the ground and running inside to brush his hair, teeth, and make himself smell a bit less like his nasty carpet, which probably hadn't been cleaned since the Stone Age. In exactly three minutes, Sherlock was at the bottom of the stairs, where Molly was tapping the door in annoyance.  

"Why weren't you up?" she hissed, running outside into the cold, where it was still snowing. 

"I missed the alarm clock; I'm still on vacation mode!" Sherlock defended. The three of them pretty much ran to the shop, where they made it inside just before Jeanette went over to flip the sign. Thankfully all of the dreadful Christmas decorations were down, the trees tucked away and there was no sign of the bloody karaoke machine that had brought Sherlock so much distrust.
"Late huh?" Jeanette laughed, flipping the sign and retreating back to her office.
"Sherlock's fault, as usual." Molly sighed.
"I'm not late, they are. I can show up whenever I want." John defended.
"I thought you were the designated sign flipper?" Jeanette pointed out.
"If you want me to be designated anything, you're going to have to pay." John insisted.
"You show up whenever you want." Jeanette agreed.
"Ah, the Three Musketeers return." Sarah announced from behind the counter. She looked genuinely happy to see them over that long weekend.
"How was your Christmas?" Molly asked, giving her a hug after tying an apron around her neck.
"Lovely, how was yours?" Sarah asked.
"Oh, you know, it was alright." Molly shrugged.
"We had a blast." Sherlock said proudly, kissing John on the cheek proudly.
"Ah, got a little bit of personal affection going on here? What did I miss?" Sarah asked.
"Nothing, I'm just happy to be back in the real world." Sherlock assured.
"So your parent didn't breathe fire or anything?" Sarah asked.
"Surprisingly, no." John agreed.
"They treated him like a third son; it was kind of strange." Sherlock admitted.
"Well, that's alright, that means they like him." Sarah insisted.
"Maybe that will come in handy down the road." John agreed with a smile. Molly just erupted into giggles, ducking behind the counter as to not give away the secret. Thankfully though, no one had to answer for her outburst because their first costumer came up, ordering their drink and shooing John away.
"I'll see you later." John insisted.
"See you." Sherlock agreed with a smile, walking behind the counter and pulling on an apron.

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