It was the afternoon of New Year's Eve.
Sherlock was sitting in his favourite chair as usual, looking over at the Christmas tree which would be thrown out the next day. His first Christmas as a married man, and he couldn't be happier.
He glanced at Molly as she entered the room. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want to go to John's tonight for his little party? Mrs. Hudson offered to drive us in her Aston Martin."
"If I wasn't certain I wanted to stay home before, that certainly seals the deal," commented Sherlock dryly.
At Molly's inquiring look, he explained, "The last time I had the pleasure of riding in her vehicle, she had handcuffed me and tossed me in the boot. I do not have fond memories of that ride, even if I was high at the time."
Molly laughed. "What? You don't want to replace that memory with a better one?" she asked mischievously.
"No, thank you. I refuse to get into any car driven by her. She drives like a madwoman. You should have seen the way I was tossed about in that boot, it was most uncomfortable."
"Okay, then. I was just making sure. Speaking of making new memories though..."
"Molly, are you taking another trip into the land of what-if? Didn't we just do a re-creation of our first Christmas less than three weeks ago?"
"I did give you fair warning a few days ago, when we were on our way home from your patents' place. I said I wanted to re-create another scene soon."
"Yeah, but then we went to see the Star Wars movie and my brain has been foggy ever since," he teased.
"It is not my fault that going to the cinema makes you exceptionally...er...frisky afterwards."
"Don't even tell me you don't like me being, as you say, 'frisky,'" was his very reasonable and very true rejoinder.
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Speaking of cinema, you took my rings afterwards to be cleaned, and I'm still waiting to get them back! It's probably just as well we aren't going to John's party, otherwise people might start wondering why I'm not wearing them. People might star wondering if we are having problems already."
Sherlock threw his head back and laughed. "You're five months pregnant, and you make me kiss you in front of everyone constantly to prove I love you. I don't think anyone is going to assume we are having problems in our marriage."
"I do not make you kiss me in front of everyone. You do that entirely on your own. I just happen to sometimes put my arms around you to extend it a little longer. My bad."
Sherlock smirked. "I'll admit it. If I really didn't like it, I'd keep my lips to myself when we are in public. You just happen to be eminently kissable."
Molly furrowed her brow. "What were we talking about before we started talking about kissing?"
"Pregnancy amnesia is a thing you know," her husband said, most unhelpfully.
"Shush, Sherlock, I'm trying to think." She stared into space for ten seconds. "Oh yeah, my rings, and the fact I don't have any right now. And that people might start to talk."
Her husband shrugged. "You could always just say you were retaining water and didn't want them to cut off your circulation."
"You have an answer for everything, husband dear. So answer me this - where are my rings anyway?"
Sherlock flushed slightly. "When I went to the jeweller's, it was very busy, so I dropped them off, intending to pick them up later. Then I did my other errands and simply forgot to go back for them. I promise I'll retrieve them on Tuesday."
"It's very unlike you to forget anything," Molly commented shrewdly.
"I know. It's rather embarrassing. Must be that sympathetic pregnancy amnesia kicking in."
"Mhm." Molly rolled her eyes, but let the subject drop. She went to Sherlock and plopped herself onto his lap.
"Steady on, love," he groaned. "You've put on a few pounds in the last several weeks."
"Well, that's your fault isn't it?" she smirked, winding her arms about his neck.
Sherlock put his hands underneath her jumper, caressing the gentle swell of her belly. Surely she had gotten bigger in just the last couple of days?
"The button on your trousers isn't fastened," he remarked.
"I know," she admitted, "and these are my loosest pair, too. I think the time has come."
"For what?" he asked.
She made a face. "For me to buy a new wardrobe."
Comprehension dawned on his face. "I see. You require maternity clothes."
"Yes, unless you plan on keeping me shut up in the flat for the next four months with nothing to wear but bras and knickers."
"Mmm," Sherlock murmured, kissing her neck, "I don't think you are making a good case for yourself to buy maternity clothes. I quite like the idea of having you to myself and," he added with a gleam in his eyes, "keeping you in a state of near undress."
Molly giggled, then said, "Stop distracting me from what I wanted to talk about. Seeing as we are staying home to ring in the new year, I kind of wanted do do another little re-creation of one of our past conversations. Look, I want to show you something."
She got off his lap and went to their bedroom, returning with a long beige coat he had not seen her wear in years.
Sherlock looked at the coat. "I haven't seen you wear that since I came back to London after my exile."
"That's because I put it away. I...I couldn't bear to wear it after you left. Too many memories associated with it. But now I need it if I want to re-create the scenario."
"Really?" Despite himself, Sherlock was rather intrigued. Truth be told, he had very much enjoyed their First Christmas scenario, especially the way it had ended. Maybe this one would end that way as well, he thought hopefully. His heartbeat accelerated at the thought.
"Yes. Can you deduce the memory I would like to revisit?"
"Judging from that coat, I'd have to say it was when I asked for your help in faking my death."
"Bingo. And can you deduce what part of the scenario I wish to rewrite?"
"Darling, you are so transparent. You've wondered aloud to me before about what might have happened if I hadn't just given you what you termed a 'butterfly kiss.' Ann I to assume you want a more satisfying kiss this time?"
"Sherlock, my love, you know me so well. It's lucky for you this scenario requires me to not wear my rings, it being our first kiss and all."
Sherlock threw up his hands. "Again with the bloody rings. I'll make it up to you, I promise, sweetheart, okay?"
"I'll hold you to that," Molly smirked.
"So, um, are we planning to end the scenario with the kiss, or are we going to further rewrite the memory to see what happens next?" he asked with a rather wicked smile.
"I definitely think we could do that, keep going, that is," Molly replied with a seductive look of her own.
"Keep looking at me that way, Mrs. Holmes, and I'll be demanding a dress rehearsal."
"You, my darling husband, have a one-track mind."
Pretending to misunderstand, he said flippantly, "I know, there are always crimes to be solved. It's all I want to do."
Molly went to him and made as if to slap him, but Sherlock easily caught her by the wrist and pulled her into him. "I've got you now, and there is no escape."
He felt Molly relax into him. "You win. You always win."
"And don't you forget it." He kissed her then, a slow, seductive kiss that demanded her surrender, which he received. Then he took her by the hand to their bedroom to make sure she knew she would never escape him or his love.
It was some time later when Sherlock asked, "What time were you planning for us to do our little re-creation?"
Molly shifted in his arms. "I was thinking around eleven-thirty. Then we will see how things are progressing at the stroke of midnight." She gave him a coquettish look.
"And where are you planning for this seduction...I mean scenario to take place?"
"The sitting room is fine. We can have all the lights off except for the Christmas tree. I'll walk into the room as if I'm leaving work, and you can speak from the relative darkness of your chair."
"How long have you been thinking about us doing this?"
Molly blushed a little. "Remember that night in the lab after we were engaged when you came to pick me up, and I was sitting in the dark? You asked if I was in the land of 'what-if?'"
Sherlock nodded solemnly.
"Well, I was thinking about that first kiss. It was after that I started thinking about doing some scene re-creations from our past. I wanted to wait until we were married, though, for obvious reasons."
"Just as well. If we had attempted this before we were married, we would have had to cut the scene short."
"Either that, or we would have carried it too far and ruined our resolve to wait for marriage before consummating our relationship."
"I must commend you then, my love, on your impeccable sense of timing. It will be much more fun this way. I did quite enjoy the last one." He kissed his wife's cheek fondly.
At around a quarter past eleven, Sherlock sat in his chair, deep in his mind palace. He was recalling his exact words from that fateful day. He recalled the tingle that had spread through him when he had given Molly that briefest of kisses, which he had pushed way into the depths of his mind palace. There had been too much at stake for him to think of sentiment of any kind.
He replayed the scene in his mind several times, making sure he knew when to stand and walk towards Molly, remembering also the exact inflections of his voice. Sherlock was glad that he had stored these memories permanently instead of deleting them. He recalled perfectly every noteworthy scene he had had with Molly from those days.
Sherlock turned off the lamps and waited, the lights from the Christmas tree providing just a dim glow in the room.
Right on cue, Molly entered. Her hair was in a ponytail as it had been that day, but her coat was completely zipped, which wasn't the best idea, because it was definitely not designed to accommodate a pregnant woman, so it was a little tight in the abdomen area.
His brain reacted to the change, immediately coming to the conclusion that his wife was concealing something beneath said coat. He sincerely hoped it was sexy lingerie as it had been on the previous occasion, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself before beginning the conversation.
"You're wrong, you know," he said in a low tone, looking downwards, and Molly gasped on cue. "You do count. You've always counted, and I've always trusted you." He looked at her then. "You were right. I'm not okay."
"Tell me what's wrong."
He stood and took a step towards her. "Molly, I think I'm going to die."
"What do you need?"
He interrupted her, taking another step towards her. "If I wasn't everything you think I am, everything that I think I am...would you still want to help me?"
There was no hesitation as she asked, "What do you need?"
He stepped towards her slowly, deliberately, until they were only inches apart, then delivered those fateful words in a deep, hoarse voice, "You."
Sherlock lowered his head and kissed her. This time, it wasn't a feather light brush of the lips, but one that started gently, then increased in intensity as he felt her response. Her mouth opened under his, and he tasted her sweet nectar with his tongue before returning to the open-mouthed kissing they preferred.
Molly's hands came up to tangle in his curls, to draw him even closer, and a rush of that familiar desire hit him full force. With the part of his brain that was still functioning, Sherlock realized it was just as well they hadn't tried this little re-creation game before they were married. He did not want to cut it short. He wanted to continue it, would continue it.
His kiss deepened even further, and Molly gasped at the electrifying sensation they were both feeling. Slowly, he moved his hands to the zipper of her coat and bagan to pull it down, continuing his kiss. He had to release her mouth in order to reach fully down to finish unzipping the coat, then he raised his arms to her shoulders beneath the coat and slid it off her body.
Sherlock's eyes widened at the sight of the matching white, lacy bra and knickers his wife was wearing. He was definitely not disappointed by her choice of undergarments. His hands slid downwards to gently caress her abdomen, marvelling anew about the fact that their child was growing inside her.
Then he returned once again to kissing her, feeling Molly's hands undoing the button of his suit jacket, followed by his shirt, both of which he shrugged off. He continued the embrace, this time moving his hands to release the clasp of her bra and toss it aside, crushing her against him so their bare skin moulded together.
"You're so beautiful, Molly," he whispered against her lips. "I need you, I love you."
"I love you too, Sherlock. Let me help you." Molly took his hands and walked backwards, leading him to their bedroom, where they could finish their new memory in a much more fitting manner, as befitted two people who were committed to one another in love and marriage.
Some time later, after the clock had struck midnight and begun a new year, the pair lay in contented afterglow.
"Happy?" murmured Sherlock, kissing Molly's hair as she lay snuggled in his arms.
"Very. I much preferred this second 'first kiss' scenario. How about you?"
"Mmmm. Eminently preferable, and even better, this time I don't have to leave you for two years."
"Oh my, yes. That is certainly a plus. And guess what?"
"What, love?"
"We still have another scenario to re-create. And this time, there will be no ring on my finger to stop you."
"I look forward to it. Happy New Year, my Molly, my beautiful wife."
"Happy New Year, my Sherlock, my gorgeous husband."
A new year and so much to look forward to, a baby and sometime soon, another re-creation of a day that would have a different outcome than it had the first time.
Sherlock knew he was the most blessed of all men.
Author's note: What did you think of my little re-creation story? I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Are you looking forward to the next re-creation as much as Sherlock is?
There are references here to some of my other stories. If you haven't read them, feel free to check them out and review them. (These include my two stories about trips to the cinema to see Titanic and Star Wars, the First Christmas re-creation, and Christmas in Sussex (M rated for slightly more adult content). There's even a reference to the first kiss daydream from their engagement.
I try to weave all my stories into the same universe to prevent confusion.
Happy New Year 2018 everybody!
Edited for spell checks and better flow of story, plus a couple extra sentences on 6/14/18
If you are a latecomer to reading this story, guess what? It's never too late to leave a review!
