This Christmas Eve, 'I' became 'we.'
Don't wake me please from this winter dream.
- Winter Dreams by Kelly Clarkson
Molly was wrapped up in Sherlock's blue dressing gown as she stood at the window, watching the snow fall in fluffy white blankets, covering the entirety of the street. It had been months since the phone call—at one time a painful memory, but now a blessing in disguise. Neither of them have been happier since they finally became more than friends. And Sherlock was her best friend as she was his. A smile graced her lips as she thought about her love.
"You're thinking quite loudly," Sherlock mumbled, his arms wrapped around her from behind and his lips pressed to her neck. She leaned into him, savoring the feeling of him surrounding her. The sound of the fire crackling added to the perfection of the moment and she couldn't help but feel like she was dreaming.
"Only when it comes to you, it seems," she replied, turning around in his arms to face him. Her hand caressed his face, her thumb brushing across his cheekbone. Molly stood on her tippy toes and pressed a tender, lingering kiss against his lips, their noses brushing together affectionately.
"You should get dressed," he told her suddenly.
"Mm, and why is that?" she asked.
"It's a surprise," he smirked.
He took her down to the park by the Thames, the ground covered in snow that glittered in the moonlight and the river half frozen. It was the equivalent of a winter wonderland if ever she saw one.
"I know your family used to make snow angels with you, so I thought maybe…" he trailed off, noting the look of surprise on her face. "…we could—oof!" Molly had playfully dragged him down to the ground with her, already working her arms and legs. She turned to look at him and giggled, for she never thought she'd ever see Sherlock Holmes make a snow angel, especially with her. The sight of it brought her great joy. Their hearts were warm but their toes were frozen, though when he stopped to kiss her, Molly was sure her toes were warming up from his love. He lifted his head up to look at her, taking in her flushed cheeks and beautiful smile.
"I love you," she said softly.
"I love you too, darling," he replied with a kiss to her cheek.
It was no secret that Sherlock's parents adored Molly, and she adored them right back. They treated her as if she was truly their daughter and she immediately felt at home around them. Mycroft wouldn't be at the house until later that evening, but until then, she had helped Mrs. Holmes bake ginger nuts and pies.
"I remember the first Christmas after Edmund and I were married," Mrs. Holmes told her. "We barely had a penny to our names, as finding a job was difficult at the time. Well, anyways, we couldn't afford to buy each other anything for the holiday, so we just agreed on no gifts at all. It was Christmas Eve when this big teddy bear"—she pointed at Mr. Holmes with the whisk—"made us beans on toast with some cheap merlot. Afterwards, he proceeded to put a record on and we danced throughout the evening. I still say that it was the best Christmas gift I've ever gotten."
"That's absolutely darling of you, Mr. Holmes," Molly smiled. "How long have you two been married?"
"Sixty five years," Mrs. Holmes replied.
"And I love her more with each passing day," Mr. Holmes added.
"How romantic," Molly sighed. Sherlock was busy, tapping away on his phone to Mycroft who was nearly there. He looked up briefly to see her eyes light up as she spoke. "It's amazing that you two are still so in love after all these years." Little did she know, Sherlock had made plans for them later on that night.
Mycroft had shown up a while later, bickering with everyone as usual, but there was no longer venom in his words like before. She had just been nibbling on a ginger nut biscuit when Sherlock took her hand in his and pulled her towards him.
"You should put on your coat," he told her, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
"The last time you told me to do that, we ended up making snow angels in the park," Molly laughed. "What's next?"
"That's for me to know—"
"And me to find out, I know," she rolled her eyes playfully.
They walked hand in hand through the snow, taking in the sight of it glittering beneath the moonlight. Molly felt like she was inside of a snowglobe with how pretty the scene was before her, including the man she loved by her side. They came across a frozen pond with bare trees surrounding it. It was gorgeous with the lights strung across the branches to give off a warm glow. He must have worked hard on this.
"Sherlock, this is beautiful," she smiled up at him, the lights adding the effect of her eyes twinkling.
"Not as beautiful as you," he said softly, slowly lowering down on his knees. He took her hands in his, never leaving her eyes. "Molly Hooper, I can't even begin to tell you how much I love you, but I hope you know that you mean everything to me. I know I can be an arse sometimes, but I don't mean anything by it. The fact that you chose me and love me unconditionally is more than I could ever ask for. I am glad you found me worthy enough to court you, but I'm hoping you find me worthy enough to be your husband." He took out the ring—a diamond set in a rose gold band—and Molly joined him on her knees in the snow, tears of joy slipping down her cheeks.
"Yes," she whispered her voice breaking. Molly snogged him thoroughly, never wanting to part from his lips again.
"I didn't even get to ask you yet," he murmured, chuckling lightly.
"Ask me then," she told him.
"Will you marry me, my darling Molly?" he asked, caressing her face with his free hand.
"Yes, my sweet William," she smiled, "of course I will." Sherlock slipped the ring on her finger where it would stay always.
They were congratulated when they returned to the house, and though everyone else had gone to bed soon after, Molly was still awake and sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hands.
"Can't sleep?" Sherlock asked, coming to sit beside her.
"Not in the slightest," she replied, taking a sip of tea. Sherlock found that he rather liked the fact her ring was perfectly on display whilst her hands were wrapped around the mug.
"Is something the matter?" he questioned further, worried she was having second thoughts.
"Not really, it's just—well, it all feels like a dream…one that I don't ever want to wake up from," she explained. "A bit silly, isn't it?" She let out a laugh of disbelief.
"Well, if you're dreaming, then I must be too," he told her, his arms wrapping around her snugly. Molly attempted to suppress a giggle when she felt his nose brush her hair back from her shoulder, but any thoughts of laughing quickly melted away as he began pressing kisses against her skin. She set her cup down, reveling in his affections. They soon left for the bedroom, making love slowly and tenderly. And if anyone heard sounds coming from that room, they didn't seem to show it.
