On the ninth day of Sherlockmas: 'Tis The Season, for sherlockmas
Author: scandalbaby
Title: 'Tis The Season
A gift for: For the Community
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Mrs. Hudson and John Watson
Category: Het
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Molly had asked if he would consider having a Christmas party after his great fall, and he’s found he can’t say no to her, not after everything. Luckily for him this Christmas turns out far better than the last one they all spent together, with a budding new relationship and the end of an estrangement with John.
Author's Notes: Another one of my giftee’s prompts was the first Christmas after the fall. I had a lot of fun with this one.
Three years was a long time to be away. Things changed, and people moved on from the shock of his death. People picked up their lives, some more easily than others, and life continued on its merry way. No one knew what he was doing, not really. Mycroft knew, and Molly knew, but the world at large thought him dead and buried, a genius who burnt out too early, a possible criminal mastermind who couldn't deal with almost being caught. Whatever they thought of him, they all assumed he was in the ground.
He worked very hard to take out Moriarty's network of criminals. He did it with a singular determination that might have been seen as scary if he had let anyone who had known him see it. But he kept it hidden, because his driving need was to keep everyone safe, and he didn't want to worry those few who knew the truth. He wasn't sure if Mycroft would be worried, but he knew Molly would. He was driven by a need and he devoted all his time and energy to it. It became an obsession.
And then it was over. The network was in tatters and his friends were safe. He could come home now, try and pick up his life again. Yes, there would be those who distrusted him, those who were wary of him, even after the truth came out. But he hoped he could show them he had done it for truly good reasons, that he hadn't done it for any arbitrary reason. He hoped they would understand that, that eventually they would forgive him and trust him again. He had to hope for that, because the alternative would be unbearable.
Lestrade had figured it out at some point in the three year span so he wasn't all that surprised. Sherlock had known he was clever, that he was far smarter than he appeared. He wasn't a bumbling detective, not really, but he had always known when he needed help. That had made him smarter than most. Apparently he had badgered people, done his due diligence as a policeman, and finally threatened Mycroft if he wasn't told the truth. Mycroft had been so surprised that he confirmed his suspicions almost immediately, and then Lestrade went to work fixing Sherlock's reputation. When he returned he was grateful, more thankful than he could readily express.
Mrs. Hudson was shocked at first but happy to know he had done it all to save them. She had been thankful for that, and she readily took him back. He had been happy by that turn of events, because she was like a mother to him, and if she had rebuffed him he probably would have turned around and went away, not even bothered to try and rebuild his old life. She had allowed him to move back into his old home, and he had to admit that that had gone a long way to helping him feel it was all worth it.
John didn't take it well, however. John had crafted a new life for himself, fallen in love and built something that was more than just existing. He looked at his old friend as an intrusion into this neat and orderly life he had now. It hurt to see that there was no place for him in his life anymore. John wanted nothing to do with him, and Sherlock conceded he had every right to feel that way. He just hoped that he could be forgiven at some point even if their friendship was never repaired.
He had come back home in March, and as time progressed and he found himself settling in again he thought about how lucky he was, that he had made it through unscathed. So much could have gone wrong: he could have been badly injured, or worse killed, or someone could have gone after his friends and killed them all while he was away. He was well aware of all the possible ways it could have ended and he knew that he would not waste this second chance if he could help it.
It was nearing December when Molly asked him if he would consider giving a Christmas party another go. He had found that he couldn't really say no to her now, not after she had helped him pull off his fake death and had been the one keeping him sane. He owed her so much, more than she knew. One day he might tell her, but he wasn't sure if he could put it all into words. He said he would think about it, and that was when she offered to help plan it if he did decide to do it. That was a definite plus to any decision he was to make.
December fifteenth he paid her a visit at the morgue. She was in the middle of an autopsy, narrating her findings into a recorder. He remained quiet, watching her work. He had not appreciated her enough before, not thought much of her obvious skill and expertise. Watching her work he could see she really was one of the best at what she did. It wasn't until she moved over to the other side and looked up that she noticed him. She gave him a wide smile as she turned off her recorder. “Been standing there long?” she asked.
“A few moments,” he said with a nod, coming closer. “You were busy and I didn't want to intrude.”
“It's all right. I'll always make time for you.” She stripped off her gloves. “Do I have a body you need results for? I don't think I do, but there's always the chance I'm wrong.”
“No, it's not that,” he replied. “I decided I would like to have a Christmas party. It would likely be very small, just you and I, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and anyone either of them would like to bring.” He paused. “Or anyone you would like to bring, I suppose.”
“Oh, there isn't anyone for me,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm still single. Do you want to invite John?”
“I would if I thought he would attend, but he is still not speaking to me. Though I will admit I have not made an attempt to contact him since July. He has continually rebuffed my attempts, so I gave up. There is no place for me in his life now, I'm afraid.”
“He'll forgive you eventually. He can't stay mad forever,” she said, coming over to him and laying a hand on his arm. “Do you still want my help putting it together?”
He nodded. “Yes. I would appreciate it.”
“Okay. I get off work in about three hours. Do you want to discuss it over coffee or something?”
“I would like that very much.”
“Then meet me here in three hours and we can find a place to sit and hash things out.” She nodded back towards the body she had been working on. “I have to get back to work or else you'll have to sit around and wait.”
“We wouldn't want that,” he said with a faint smile. “I will come back when you are finished.”
“I'll be ready.” She gave him one last grin and then went back to her body, and he left. So far this was going well. He just hoped a party would not be an unmitigated disaster.
-
They met up that evening to plan as much as they could, and then over the next few days they began to put those plans into motion. He hadn't realized there was so much to do, to buy, to decorate. It took a lot of work and he was in awe that John had managed to do it all those years ago. He looked back on that night with a sense of regret, that things had gone so wrong that night. It had not been all his fault, but a large portion of it was. He was still surprised Molly held no ill will towards him after his actions that evening.
They had decided to have the party Christmas Eve, and over the days before that night Molly had come to help him make his home festive. He supposed he should have done it earlier in the month but he had not had the inclination. He still didn't, but as it was a Christmas party Molly had told him that perhaps it would be best if people were at least reminded of the holiday. He had to admit getting the tree had been a hassle; he probably should not have waited until the 23rd to get one, as the pickings were quite slim, but they had found a decent one and gotten it to his home.
“You know, this is actually kind of fun,” Molly said as she placed another decoration on the tree. Mrs. Hudson was helping them, and he found himself not totally loathing the activity. “I didn't put up a tree this year.”
“Why not?” Mrs. Hudson asked.
“I'd pretty much thought I was going to spend the holiday alone. It's too much work to put up a tree if I'm the only one to see it.”
“I would have invited you to spend the holiday with us if I had known, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. “I still might.”
“Us?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You and I, of course. You didn't have any plans, did you?”
“None other than this party.”
“Well, I plan on cooking a lot of food. You're more than welcome to come eat with us, Molly.”
“Thank you,” Molly said with a smile. “I have to work that morning, but I should be off by five.”
“Then I'll make sure it's all ready by six.” She picked up a string of lights. “Did you volunteer to work that day?”
“Yes,” Molly replied with a nod. “There's others with families, who wanted to be there when their children opened presents. Since we're doing the party tomorrow night I figured I would be nice and take the shift no one wanted. At least I get time and a half for it.”
“That is a perk,” Mrs. Hudson said with a chuckle. She began to string the lights on the tree before pausing. “Sherlock, you are awfully quiet tonight. Is anything wrong?”
“I believe it has sunk in finally that John will not be here,” he said quietly. “I asked him to attend, but he said he had plans. I did not press further.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said, forgetting the lights for a moment and going over to give him a hug. He was surprised at first, but then he hugged her back. “One day you two will be all patched up. You'll see. Just have some faith.”
Sherlock looked at Molly, who nodded. “Just keep giving him time.”
“I will,” he said quietly.
“You know, Molly and I can decorate. I would love some music, wouldn't you, Molly?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she let go of Sherlock. She turned to Molly, who nodded. “Violin music would sound lovely right now, don't you think?”
“That's a not so subtle hint,” Molly said to Sherlock with a chuckle.
Sherlock smiled slightly. “Is that also a not so subtle hint that I am not doing the best job decorating the tree?”
“No, not at all.” Mrs. Hudson went back to the lights. “I would just like some musical accompaniment, that's all.”
“Al right,” he said with a nod, placing the decoration in his hand on the tree. He went over to the violin case and opened it. “Do either of you have any requests?”
“Something festive,” Mrs. Hudson said.
“I can do that,” he replied, pulling out his violin and bow. He set his violin under his chin and began to play. Molly and Mrs. Hudson chatted as he played, decorating the tree with a flourish. Finally they were done, and he set down the violin as Molly turned off the lights in the room and Mrs. Hudson turned the lights on the tree on. “That is quite nice,” he conceded.
“I think it's breathtaking,” Mrs. Hudson said. “What do you think, Molly?”
“It makes me wish I had a tree at home,” she said with a smile. “I think we did an excellent job.”
“You know what is missing to all the decorations?” Mrs. Hudson said. “Mistletoe.”
“That would be a mistake,” Molly said with a frown. “What if two people who do not want to kiss step under it? For example, Sherlock or I. Or you and Greg.”
“I think it could be fun,” Mrs Hudson replied. “But I see your point. Still, I may keep some somewhere, just in case.” She yawned at that point. “And I believe it is time for me to leave you both. I am more tired than I thought. Goodnight Sherlock, Molly.”
“Good night,” Sherlock said, going to her and kissing her cheek gently.
“Night, Mrs. Hudson,” Molly said brightly. Mrs. Hudson gave them a wave and then she retired to her part of the house. Molly turned to Sherlock and grinned. “I wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Hudson holds mistletoe over all of us to give kisses to her. Pecks on the cheeks, obviously, but she seems very keen on the idea.”
“Perhaps she will use it for other means,” Sherlock mused. Then he looked at Molly. “If we were under mistletoe, I would kiss you.”
“Oh?” she said, surprised. “Why on earth would you do that?”
He was quiet for a moment. “You are...special. To me, at least. And you would want me to, so I would.”
“I wouldn't want to if it makes you uncomfortable,” she said, going back to the room lights.
“It wouldn't. After three years of not having any intimate contact at all, I find that the few instances I get are nice. It's comforting.” He moved over to her before she turned the lights back on. “And I can't say no to you, I've found.”
“Why?” she asked, turning to face him.
“You saved me. By keeping me sane while I was gone, by reminding me why I was doing it all, you kept me going. And when I came back I thought I might be damaged. I did things that...I don't regret the things I did, but there are times they haunt me. There are times I wonder if I should have done them, and then I realize I should have and I try and let it go. So when I came home I thought I would slip back to my old state in order to cope. But you haven't let me, and I find I like this man I have become.” She looked down at that point, and he hesitantly put a knuckle under her chin to tilt it up. “I had thought I might not be able to put it all into words, but apparently I can.”
“I'm no hero for doing that,” she said quietly. “You're the hero. You saved all of us from a threat and you did it without us asking you to because you cared. You had become this good man before you left. I didn't do much.”
“You did more than you realize, Molly.” He moved his hand slightly and rubbed a thumb on her cheek, caressing it lightly. He watched her shut her eyes and lean into his hand slightly. “I owe much more to you than you think.”
She was quiet for a few moments, and he worried he had said too much, scared her off. But then she opened her eyes and spoke. “Are you going to kiss me, Sherlock?”
“I had thought I might. But only if you allow it.”
“I would like it if you did,” she said with a smile he could see clearly even in the dim light. He moved his hand away from her face and leaned in as she raised herself up slightly. When their lips pressed together it was a very soft, almost tentative kiss. He had worried that this would be uncomfortable, that he would want to turn and bolt, but it was enjoyable. He wasn't sure which of them took it further, deepening it, but he put his hands on her waist to steady her and got lost in it. They only pulled apart when the need to breathe became apparent. He rested his forehead against her, pulling her a little closer. She set her hand on his shoulders. “So what does this mean for us now?” she asked a bit breathlessly.
“I'm not sure. I have never been in this position before,” he said.
“Standing in a room kissing a girl?” she asked in an amused tone.
He chuckled slightly. “I've done that, a long time ago. But it didn't mean anything then. This...this means something.”
“Then let's go somewhere tonight, on a date. See if it's more than just this kiss. Would that be all right?”
“That would be fine,” he said. “But I would like another kiss first, if that's all right.”
“It is. Apparently I can't say no to you either,” she murmured, sliding her arms up so they were around his neck and leaning up to kiss him again. As they stood there, kissing each other in the darkened room with only the lights on the tree illuminating them, he realized he had not felt such a sense of rightness in a very long time. That was what was telling him he had made a good decision in pursuing whatever this would become, and he hoped that it was the start of something that would last a very long time.
-
The date went well, far better than he had hoped for, and they had ended it by taking a walk around town and looking at the Christmas decorations in the shop windows. She had held his hand and he had gripped it back tightly, and only when it became too cold to continue to be outside did they go back to his home so she could take her car and go back to her own home. There had been another kiss, one just as good as the previous too, and he found his heart light as he went to bed that evening.
She came back over at three to help get ready for the party at five. She had been wearing a very nice dress, one just as nice as she had worn all those years ago, and this time he took the time to appreciate the view and compliment her on how she looked. She blushed and gave him a peck on the cheek before telling him he looked pretty dashing himself. He had grinned at her a bit before they got to work.
Lestrade had said he was bringing a date, and Sherlock had surprisingly extended an invitation to Sally Donovan as well, as their working relationship had warmed considerably since his return. She said she would also be bringing a date and no, it wasn't Anderson; that ship had sailed long ago. Mrs. Hudson had said she might invite a friend or two herself, and when he found out about it Mycroft had said he might stop by for a bit. So it was going to be a very full house, bigger than they had initially planed, but Molly said they had it covered so he didn't worry.
Molly had come bearing gifts for him, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and Sally, and he had gotten gifts as well. He just hoped his recipients liked them, because even though Molly had helped with that he was still worried he had done a horrid job. Molly's gift had been picked out with care before their kiss and date, and so he hoped she enjoyed it more than he hoped the others enjoyed theirs. When Mrs. Hudson joined them just before the other guests were to arrive she too had gifts, and they were all placed under the tree.
“I do hope no one else feels slighted that I didn't get them gifts,” Mrs. Hudson said. “I know your detective friend well, and I made a guess at something his subordinate would like, but those they bring with them...I don't have anything for them.”
“I have small gifts for just that purpose,” Molly said with a smile. “Even for your friends who come, Mrs. Hudson.”
“Oh, you are a dear,” she replied. Then she looked at Sherlock for a moment with a sparkle in her eye. “Am I wrong and thinking that something has happened between you two since last night?”
“No, Mrs. Hudson, you are not wrong in that assumption,” Sherlock said, moving over to Molly a bit more and taking her hand. “We went on a date last night.”
“Really? Oh, I'm so happy for the both of you! You both deserve someone special, and I think you've found it in each other.” She went over to give Sherlock a hug, and he let go of Molly's hand to hug her back, and then she hugged Molly. “And I didn't even need to use my mistletoe on you like I'd planned.”
Molly chuckled. “You were going to play matchmaker, Mrs. Hudson?”
“Why yes I was. I've been so sad to see he was lonely, but when he was done seeing you he always seemed so much happier. I've been wanting to do it for months but I haven't had the opportunity.”
“Better late than never,” Sherlock replied.
“Absolutely,” Mrs. Hudson said with a nod. Then there was a knock at the door. “I think the guests are starting to arrive now, dear. Be a good host and let them in.”
“All right,” he said with a slight smile, leaving the two women in the sitting room. He went to the door and opened it expecting Lestrade or Sally or Mrs. Hudson's friends. He was not expecting John to be standing there, arms full of presents, and the shock was evident on his face. “Hello, John. I wasn't expecting you.”
“I almost hadn't come,” John said. “I know you invited me and I brushed you off, but...”
“It's all right,” he replied.
“No. No, it's not. I thought I was still hurt about all of it. But I wasn't, not really. I was hurt you'd stopped trying to reach out to me and then all of a sudden you drop this invitation in my lap. But I realized I could have reached out to you at any time these last few months, and I didn't. I'd pushed you away and you did exactly what I'd wanted at the time. You stayed away.”
“So why did you change your mind?” Sherlock asked, curious.
“Molly called me last night. She said it would be very lovely if I joined all of you. I had been angry at her because she knew, but that anger had faded, too. We had a good talk about a lot of things.” He gave Sherlock a smile. “She said the two of you went on a date last night.”
“We did,” Sherlock said with a slight grin and a nod.
“Good on you, mate. She's a good woman.” He looked around. “Any chance I can come in? These presents are heavy and it's bloody freezing out here.”
“Of course,” he replied with a nod, moving out of the way. “I am very glad you are here, John.”
“I'm fairly sure I'll be glad to be here,” John said, giving him a bigger grin. “So! Who's already here?”
“Just Mrs. Hudson and Molly.”
“Well, let me say my hellos and set these presents down. And then maybe we can catch up a bit, all right?”
“I would like that very much,” Sherlock replied with a nod. And as he shut the door and watched John walk up the stairs to the others, he realized that he had everything he wanted this holiday season, even though he had not expected it, and it was a wonderful feeling.
Title: 'Tis The Season
A gift for: For the Community
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Mrs. Hudson and John Watson
Category: Het
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Molly had asked if he would consider having a Christmas party after his great fall, and he’s found he can’t say no to her, not after everything. Luckily for him this Christmas turns out far better than the last one they all spent together, with a budding new relationship and the end of an estrangement with John.
Author's Notes: Another one of my giftee’s prompts was the first Christmas after the fall. I had a lot of fun with this one.
Three years was a long time to be away. Things changed, and people moved on from the shock of his death. People picked up their lives, some more easily than others, and life continued on its merry way. No one knew what he was doing, not really. Mycroft knew, and Molly knew, but the world at large thought him dead and buried, a genius who burnt out too early, a possible criminal mastermind who couldn't deal with almost being caught. Whatever they thought of him, they all assumed he was in the ground.
He worked very hard to take out Moriarty's network of criminals. He did it with a singular determination that might have been seen as scary if he had let anyone who had known him see it. But he kept it hidden, because his driving need was to keep everyone safe, and he didn't want to worry those few who knew the truth. He wasn't sure if Mycroft would be worried, but he knew Molly would. He was driven by a need and he devoted all his time and energy to it. It became an obsession.
And then it was over. The network was in tatters and his friends were safe. He could come home now, try and pick up his life again. Yes, there would be those who distrusted him, those who were wary of him, even after the truth came out. But he hoped he could show them he had done it for truly good reasons, that he hadn't done it for any arbitrary reason. He hoped they would understand that, that eventually they would forgive him and trust him again. He had to hope for that, because the alternative would be unbearable.
Lestrade had figured it out at some point in the three year span so he wasn't all that surprised. Sherlock had known he was clever, that he was far smarter than he appeared. He wasn't a bumbling detective, not really, but he had always known when he needed help. That had made him smarter than most. Apparently he had badgered people, done his due diligence as a policeman, and finally threatened Mycroft if he wasn't told the truth. Mycroft had been so surprised that he confirmed his suspicions almost immediately, and then Lestrade went to work fixing Sherlock's reputation. When he returned he was grateful, more thankful than he could readily express.
Mrs. Hudson was shocked at first but happy to know he had done it all to save them. She had been thankful for that, and she readily took him back. He had been happy by that turn of events, because she was like a mother to him, and if she had rebuffed him he probably would have turned around and went away, not even bothered to try and rebuild his old life. She had allowed him to move back into his old home, and he had to admit that that had gone a long way to helping him feel it was all worth it.
John didn't take it well, however. John had crafted a new life for himself, fallen in love and built something that was more than just existing. He looked at his old friend as an intrusion into this neat and orderly life he had now. It hurt to see that there was no place for him in his life anymore. John wanted nothing to do with him, and Sherlock conceded he had every right to feel that way. He just hoped that he could be forgiven at some point even if their friendship was never repaired.
He had come back home in March, and as time progressed and he found himself settling in again he thought about how lucky he was, that he had made it through unscathed. So much could have gone wrong: he could have been badly injured, or worse killed, or someone could have gone after his friends and killed them all while he was away. He was well aware of all the possible ways it could have ended and he knew that he would not waste this second chance if he could help it.
It was nearing December when Molly asked him if he would consider giving a Christmas party another go. He had found that he couldn't really say no to her now, not after she had helped him pull off his fake death and had been the one keeping him sane. He owed her so much, more than she knew. One day he might tell her, but he wasn't sure if he could put it all into words. He said he would think about it, and that was when she offered to help plan it if he did decide to do it. That was a definite plus to any decision he was to make.
December fifteenth he paid her a visit at the morgue. She was in the middle of an autopsy, narrating her findings into a recorder. He remained quiet, watching her work. He had not appreciated her enough before, not thought much of her obvious skill and expertise. Watching her work he could see she really was one of the best at what she did. It wasn't until she moved over to the other side and looked up that she noticed him. She gave him a wide smile as she turned off her recorder. “Been standing there long?” she asked.
“A few moments,” he said with a nod, coming closer. “You were busy and I didn't want to intrude.”
“It's all right. I'll always make time for you.” She stripped off her gloves. “Do I have a body you need results for? I don't think I do, but there's always the chance I'm wrong.”
“No, it's not that,” he replied. “I decided I would like to have a Christmas party. It would likely be very small, just you and I, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and anyone either of them would like to bring.” He paused. “Or anyone you would like to bring, I suppose.”
“Oh, there isn't anyone for me,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm still single. Do you want to invite John?”
“I would if I thought he would attend, but he is still not speaking to me. Though I will admit I have not made an attempt to contact him since July. He has continually rebuffed my attempts, so I gave up. There is no place for me in his life now, I'm afraid.”
“He'll forgive you eventually. He can't stay mad forever,” she said, coming over to him and laying a hand on his arm. “Do you still want my help putting it together?”
He nodded. “Yes. I would appreciate it.”
“Okay. I get off work in about three hours. Do you want to discuss it over coffee or something?”
“I would like that very much.”
“Then meet me here in three hours and we can find a place to sit and hash things out.” She nodded back towards the body she had been working on. “I have to get back to work or else you'll have to sit around and wait.”
“We wouldn't want that,” he said with a faint smile. “I will come back when you are finished.”
“I'll be ready.” She gave him one last grin and then went back to her body, and he left. So far this was going well. He just hoped a party would not be an unmitigated disaster.
-
They met up that evening to plan as much as they could, and then over the next few days they began to put those plans into motion. He hadn't realized there was so much to do, to buy, to decorate. It took a lot of work and he was in awe that John had managed to do it all those years ago. He looked back on that night with a sense of regret, that things had gone so wrong that night. It had not been all his fault, but a large portion of it was. He was still surprised Molly held no ill will towards him after his actions that evening.
They had decided to have the party Christmas Eve, and over the days before that night Molly had come to help him make his home festive. He supposed he should have done it earlier in the month but he had not had the inclination. He still didn't, but as it was a Christmas party Molly had told him that perhaps it would be best if people were at least reminded of the holiday. He had to admit getting the tree had been a hassle; he probably should not have waited until the 23rd to get one, as the pickings were quite slim, but they had found a decent one and gotten it to his home.
“You know, this is actually kind of fun,” Molly said as she placed another decoration on the tree. Mrs. Hudson was helping them, and he found himself not totally loathing the activity. “I didn't put up a tree this year.”
“Why not?” Mrs. Hudson asked.
“I'd pretty much thought I was going to spend the holiday alone. It's too much work to put up a tree if I'm the only one to see it.”
“I would have invited you to spend the holiday with us if I had known, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. “I still might.”
“Us?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You and I, of course. You didn't have any plans, did you?”
“None other than this party.”
“Well, I plan on cooking a lot of food. You're more than welcome to come eat with us, Molly.”
“Thank you,” Molly said with a smile. “I have to work that morning, but I should be off by five.”
“Then I'll make sure it's all ready by six.” She picked up a string of lights. “Did you volunteer to work that day?”
“Yes,” Molly replied with a nod. “There's others with families, who wanted to be there when their children opened presents. Since we're doing the party tomorrow night I figured I would be nice and take the shift no one wanted. At least I get time and a half for it.”
“That is a perk,” Mrs. Hudson said with a chuckle. She began to string the lights on the tree before pausing. “Sherlock, you are awfully quiet tonight. Is anything wrong?”
“I believe it has sunk in finally that John will not be here,” he said quietly. “I asked him to attend, but he said he had plans. I did not press further.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said, forgetting the lights for a moment and going over to give him a hug. He was surprised at first, but then he hugged her back. “One day you two will be all patched up. You'll see. Just have some faith.”
Sherlock looked at Molly, who nodded. “Just keep giving him time.”
“I will,” he said quietly.
“You know, Molly and I can decorate. I would love some music, wouldn't you, Molly?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she let go of Sherlock. She turned to Molly, who nodded. “Violin music would sound lovely right now, don't you think?”
“That's a not so subtle hint,” Molly said to Sherlock with a chuckle.
Sherlock smiled slightly. “Is that also a not so subtle hint that I am not doing the best job decorating the tree?”
“No, not at all.” Mrs. Hudson went back to the lights. “I would just like some musical accompaniment, that's all.”
“Al right,” he said with a nod, placing the decoration in his hand on the tree. He went over to the violin case and opened it. “Do either of you have any requests?”
“Something festive,” Mrs. Hudson said.
“I can do that,” he replied, pulling out his violin and bow. He set his violin under his chin and began to play. Molly and Mrs. Hudson chatted as he played, decorating the tree with a flourish. Finally they were done, and he set down the violin as Molly turned off the lights in the room and Mrs. Hudson turned the lights on the tree on. “That is quite nice,” he conceded.
“I think it's breathtaking,” Mrs. Hudson said. “What do you think, Molly?”
“It makes me wish I had a tree at home,” she said with a smile. “I think we did an excellent job.”
“You know what is missing to all the decorations?” Mrs. Hudson said. “Mistletoe.”
“That would be a mistake,” Molly said with a frown. “What if two people who do not want to kiss step under it? For example, Sherlock or I. Or you and Greg.”
“I think it could be fun,” Mrs Hudson replied. “But I see your point. Still, I may keep some somewhere, just in case.” She yawned at that point. “And I believe it is time for me to leave you both. I am more tired than I thought. Goodnight Sherlock, Molly.”
“Good night,” Sherlock said, going to her and kissing her cheek gently.
“Night, Mrs. Hudson,” Molly said brightly. Mrs. Hudson gave them a wave and then she retired to her part of the house. Molly turned to Sherlock and grinned. “I wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Hudson holds mistletoe over all of us to give kisses to her. Pecks on the cheeks, obviously, but she seems very keen on the idea.”
“Perhaps she will use it for other means,” Sherlock mused. Then he looked at Molly. “If we were under mistletoe, I would kiss you.”
“Oh?” she said, surprised. “Why on earth would you do that?”
He was quiet for a moment. “You are...special. To me, at least. And you would want me to, so I would.”
“I wouldn't want to if it makes you uncomfortable,” she said, going back to the room lights.
“It wouldn't. After three years of not having any intimate contact at all, I find that the few instances I get are nice. It's comforting.” He moved over to her before she turned the lights back on. “And I can't say no to you, I've found.”
“Why?” she asked, turning to face him.
“You saved me. By keeping me sane while I was gone, by reminding me why I was doing it all, you kept me going. And when I came back I thought I might be damaged. I did things that...I don't regret the things I did, but there are times they haunt me. There are times I wonder if I should have done them, and then I realize I should have and I try and let it go. So when I came home I thought I would slip back to my old state in order to cope. But you haven't let me, and I find I like this man I have become.” She looked down at that point, and he hesitantly put a knuckle under her chin to tilt it up. “I had thought I might not be able to put it all into words, but apparently I can.”
“I'm no hero for doing that,” she said quietly. “You're the hero. You saved all of us from a threat and you did it without us asking you to because you cared. You had become this good man before you left. I didn't do much.”
“You did more than you realize, Molly.” He moved his hand slightly and rubbed a thumb on her cheek, caressing it lightly. He watched her shut her eyes and lean into his hand slightly. “I owe much more to you than you think.”
She was quiet for a few moments, and he worried he had said too much, scared her off. But then she opened her eyes and spoke. “Are you going to kiss me, Sherlock?”
“I had thought I might. But only if you allow it.”
“I would like it if you did,” she said with a smile he could see clearly even in the dim light. He moved his hand away from her face and leaned in as she raised herself up slightly. When their lips pressed together it was a very soft, almost tentative kiss. He had worried that this would be uncomfortable, that he would want to turn and bolt, but it was enjoyable. He wasn't sure which of them took it further, deepening it, but he put his hands on her waist to steady her and got lost in it. They only pulled apart when the need to breathe became apparent. He rested his forehead against her, pulling her a little closer. She set her hand on his shoulders. “So what does this mean for us now?” she asked a bit breathlessly.
“I'm not sure. I have never been in this position before,” he said.
“Standing in a room kissing a girl?” she asked in an amused tone.
He chuckled slightly. “I've done that, a long time ago. But it didn't mean anything then. This...this means something.”
“Then let's go somewhere tonight, on a date. See if it's more than just this kiss. Would that be all right?”
“That would be fine,” he said. “But I would like another kiss first, if that's all right.”
“It is. Apparently I can't say no to you either,” she murmured, sliding her arms up so they were around his neck and leaning up to kiss him again. As they stood there, kissing each other in the darkened room with only the lights on the tree illuminating them, he realized he had not felt such a sense of rightness in a very long time. That was what was telling him he had made a good decision in pursuing whatever this would become, and he hoped that it was the start of something that would last a very long time.
-
The date went well, far better than he had hoped for, and they had ended it by taking a walk around town and looking at the Christmas decorations in the shop windows. She had held his hand and he had gripped it back tightly, and only when it became too cold to continue to be outside did they go back to his home so she could take her car and go back to her own home. There had been another kiss, one just as good as the previous too, and he found his heart light as he went to bed that evening.
She came back over at three to help get ready for the party at five. She had been wearing a very nice dress, one just as nice as she had worn all those years ago, and this time he took the time to appreciate the view and compliment her on how she looked. She blushed and gave him a peck on the cheek before telling him he looked pretty dashing himself. He had grinned at her a bit before they got to work.
Lestrade had said he was bringing a date, and Sherlock had surprisingly extended an invitation to Sally Donovan as well, as their working relationship had warmed considerably since his return. She said she would also be bringing a date and no, it wasn't Anderson; that ship had sailed long ago. Mrs. Hudson had said she might invite a friend or two herself, and when he found out about it Mycroft had said he might stop by for a bit. So it was going to be a very full house, bigger than they had initially planed, but Molly said they had it covered so he didn't worry.
Molly had come bearing gifts for him, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and Sally, and he had gotten gifts as well. He just hoped his recipients liked them, because even though Molly had helped with that he was still worried he had done a horrid job. Molly's gift had been picked out with care before their kiss and date, and so he hoped she enjoyed it more than he hoped the others enjoyed theirs. When Mrs. Hudson joined them just before the other guests were to arrive she too had gifts, and they were all placed under the tree.
“I do hope no one else feels slighted that I didn't get them gifts,” Mrs. Hudson said. “I know your detective friend well, and I made a guess at something his subordinate would like, but those they bring with them...I don't have anything for them.”
“I have small gifts for just that purpose,” Molly said with a smile. “Even for your friends who come, Mrs. Hudson.”
“Oh, you are a dear,” she replied. Then she looked at Sherlock for a moment with a sparkle in her eye. “Am I wrong and thinking that something has happened between you two since last night?”
“No, Mrs. Hudson, you are not wrong in that assumption,” Sherlock said, moving over to Molly a bit more and taking her hand. “We went on a date last night.”
“Really? Oh, I'm so happy for the both of you! You both deserve someone special, and I think you've found it in each other.” She went over to give Sherlock a hug, and he let go of Molly's hand to hug her back, and then she hugged Molly. “And I didn't even need to use my mistletoe on you like I'd planned.”
Molly chuckled. “You were going to play matchmaker, Mrs. Hudson?”
“Why yes I was. I've been so sad to see he was lonely, but when he was done seeing you he always seemed so much happier. I've been wanting to do it for months but I haven't had the opportunity.”
“Better late than never,” Sherlock replied.
“Absolutely,” Mrs. Hudson said with a nod. Then there was a knock at the door. “I think the guests are starting to arrive now, dear. Be a good host and let them in.”
“All right,” he said with a slight smile, leaving the two women in the sitting room. He went to the door and opened it expecting Lestrade or Sally or Mrs. Hudson's friends. He was not expecting John to be standing there, arms full of presents, and the shock was evident on his face. “Hello, John. I wasn't expecting you.”
“I almost hadn't come,” John said. “I know you invited me and I brushed you off, but...”
“It's all right,” he replied.
“No. No, it's not. I thought I was still hurt about all of it. But I wasn't, not really. I was hurt you'd stopped trying to reach out to me and then all of a sudden you drop this invitation in my lap. But I realized I could have reached out to you at any time these last few months, and I didn't. I'd pushed you away and you did exactly what I'd wanted at the time. You stayed away.”
“So why did you change your mind?” Sherlock asked, curious.
“Molly called me last night. She said it would be very lovely if I joined all of you. I had been angry at her because she knew, but that anger had faded, too. We had a good talk about a lot of things.” He gave Sherlock a smile. “She said the two of you went on a date last night.”
“We did,” Sherlock said with a slight grin and a nod.
“Good on you, mate. She's a good woman.” He looked around. “Any chance I can come in? These presents are heavy and it's bloody freezing out here.”
“Of course,” he replied with a nod, moving out of the way. “I am very glad you are here, John.”
“I'm fairly sure I'll be glad to be here,” John said, giving him a bigger grin. “So! Who's already here?”
“Just Mrs. Hudson and Molly.”
“Well, let me say my hellos and set these presents down. And then maybe we can catch up a bit, all right?”
“I would like that very much,” Sherlock replied with a nod. And as he shut the door and watched John walk up the stairs to the others, he realized that he had everything he wanted this holiday season, even though he had not expected it, and it was a wonderful feeling.