AN-A very Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to my fellow Sherlollians :)
It was Christmas Eve at 221B Baker Street, and a rather festive party was just about winding down. Mrs. Hudson and the Watsons had all but forced Sherlock to throw this party, and he had reluctantly gone along with it. The evening had turned out quite well. Sherlock had actually behaved himself. In fact, one could say he even enjoyed himself a bit. He had spent the night playing his violin and having engrossing conversations with his young goddaughter. Rather, he spoke rapidly to her and she cooed happily in return. He had even ventured to engage in conversation with some of his guests, namely a very lovely pathologist.
Now, dinner had been devoured, drinks had been imbibed, gifts had been exchanged, and guests had said their farewells. The only people left in the flat were the Watsons, Mrs. Hudson, and Molly Hooper. As the Watsons bundled up and readied themselves for the cold London night, snow began to fall outside.
"It looks like there's a storm coming," John commented while wrapped a scarf tightly around his daughter. "I think it's going to get pretty bad."
"We'd better hurry before we get caught in it," Mary agreed.
They heard a gentle hiccup coming from the couch. Molly smiled apologetically. "I may have had a bit too much to drink," she confessed. She got up clumsily from the couch and walked to the group by the door, swaying slightly. "I should be fine, though."
"You can't go out into a storm like that, dearie," Mrs. Hudson chided. "It's hardly safe."
"We can give you a ride, love," Mary offered.
Molly shook her head violently. "It's completely out of your way. You'll get caught in the storm on the way back. I'll just take the tube."
"Nonsense, you'll stay here for the night."
Molly quickly whirled around to find Sherlock standing right behind her. "That's not necessary, Sher—"
"Of course you will," Mrs. Hudson interjected. "You can stay in John's old room. I'll get you some fresh linen right now." With that, the landlady hurried down the stairs to fetch some new sheets.
"I don't have anything to wear," Molly said in protest.
"You just got a pair of pajamas for Christmas," Mary reminded her.
"And there is no way we're going to let you go out there alone like this," John added.
"That settles it; you'll be spending the night here." Sherlock clapped loudly, turned on his heel, and walked to his room.
Completely overruled, Molly wished the Watsons a safe trip home and went to change into her pajamas while Mrs. Hudson changed the sheets in John's old room. When she came out of the bathroom, she found the sitting room to be empty. Mrs. Hudson had retired to her own flat, and Sherlock was still in his room. Molly shivered a bit. The fire that had been merrily crackling in the fireplace was now merely smoldering. She was about to retreat to the bed that Mrs. Hudson had prepared for her when a voice called to her.
"Molly, we need to talk." For the second time that night, Molly turned to see Sherlock standing unnervingly close to her.
"What is it Sherlock?" Molly asked, slightly concerned.
"I had a long talk with my goddaughter, and we have decided that I have waited far too long to tell you how I feel about you. Molly Hooper, for years now, you have been by my side, helping me in any way you could no matter the cost. You have selflessly sacrificed so much when all I ever did was manipulate you and take advantage of you. The reason I was always so horrid to you was that I was afraid of the things I felt for you, afraid of letting you in. I always believed that sentiment was a weakness. That is why I tried my hardest to keep you at bay. I was trying to protect myself. However, I can see now just how stupid I've been. I deeply regret having ever hurt you, and I wish to make it up to you, if you'd let me." He said all this in such a rush, it took a moment for it all to sink in.
"What are you saying?"
"I am saying that I love you, Molly Hooper," he answered, closing stepping closer to her still. "I can only hope that you still feel the same way about me." He leaned down to her so that their lips nearly touched, but he hesitated. His eyes fixed on hers, seeking permission.
"Of course I love you, Sherlock. I always have, and I always will."
Without further ado, Molly closed the gap between them, bringing her lips softly against his. The kiss was gentle yet passionate and over all too soon. After they separated, Sherlock pressed his forehead to hers.
"Molly, stay here with me. Not just for tonight, but forever. Please?" he asked quietly.
She nodded her head vigorously. "Yes, yes of course I will," she replied with a bright smile.
Sherlock tugged her to him, holding her close, pressing her head to his chest. Molly could hear his heart beating happily. She was thankful for the storm brewing outside. It was the reason she was here, safe and warm in the arms of the man she loved.