I came across a prompt on Tumblr suggesting to write a fic each day of December leading up to Christmas with a different holiday themed word for each day. I've taken that idea and run with it. Hopefully everyone will enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. The prompt word will be written at the end of each chapter so as not to ruin any surprises. Let me know what you think! - CG
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this series belong to the writers/creators of BBC Sherlock. No copyright infringement intended. Merry Christmas!
1st December
Sherlock thought back over that hateful holiday gathering, solidifying his resolve to do better this year. He knew what had gone wrong during their first Christmas together. Well, a lot of things had gone wrong, all of which had been his fault. This year was his chance. He could apologize to all of them, but especially to her. What could he do for the woman who deserved so much more than he could give her? His feeble apology and the kiss on her cheek seemed to have gone a long way towards making amends until bad timing and worse luck interrupted. Maybe that was it. A kiss. It was simple and she would love it. And if he planned it right, she would not expect more. It would be a token of gratitude, not a sign of affection. Not necessarily. So easy, so perfect. That was the plan.
He gathered what he needed, easily acquired this time of year, and headed to her home. He drug all her holiday decorations out and put them up for her. She would appreciate that immensely. And while doing so he hung his own decorations. Above every doorway, across the bookcase (for lack of a mantle), and incorporated into the tree. When his task was complete he stepped back to admire his work. It was festive but also understated, he had chosen only the more tasteful pieces of her collection. Oh, yes, this would do nicely. He took a seat in her armchair and waited.
When Molly stepped through the door into her home, she couldn't believe her eyes. The tree was up, lit, and beautifully decorated. Candles were on her table, surrounded by glittering ornaments. A garland gracefully draped across high bookshelves in a way she would never be able to accomplish, primarily because she was too short to reach. It was absolutely beautiful. Slowly she walked into the room and spun to take it all in.
"It's stunning, Sherlock. Thank you." She was so taken aback by the decorating, she hadn't thought to be startled by Sherlock's presence. Molly'd gotten somewhat accustomed to his spontaneous visits. Now that they were proper friends, he often stopped by when he was bored or lonely now that John had Mary. Sometimes all four of them would spend evenings here together. It was nice. But this, this was special. "You did all of this for me, why?"
"I thought you'd like it." Sherlock stood and walked towards her. The final part of the plan required just a little bit of manipulation. Subtle body language to get her to take just a few steps back into the kitchen doorway. She responded wonderfully, just as he knew she would and automatically stepped back. "I wanted to thank you, for everything." He stepped forward again, closing the distance between them and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper." His eyes closed and he leaned forward to complete the plan, to kiss her trembling lips. But before he accomplished his goal…
"Ahhh...CHOOO!"
Molly sneezed right in his face.
Startled, he drew back and wiped spittle away while Molly sputtered.
"Oh! Oh, oh I'm so sorry. I *sniff*... I *sniff*...I *achoo*" Molly wiped furiously at her eyes and tried to catch her breath. She hurried into her bathroom. The sounds of sneezing and sniffling drifted back to the detective who stood dumbfounded at the threshold between her sitting room and kitchen. That was not part of the plan.
Molly eventually managed to contain herself and came back, a tissue over her nose and mouth.
"'Mm sowwy, Snurluck. 'Mm lergic to *sniff* nisletow," she mumbled and pointed above his head. He groaned. Of course. In an effort to do something nice for her, he'd turned her flat into a nasal nightmare. He'd strung bunches of mistletoe everywhere so that no matter where she stood he could kiss her, then claim the excuse that he was merely indulging in the tradition. In his mind, she had blushed and accepted his gesture for what it was. Then they could continue being friends. He'd never imagined she'd be allergic to the ridiculous ruffage.
"It's fine. My mistake. Just stay there while I remove it." Sherlock swept through the flat, undoing his careful work in a matter of minutes. It still looked nice, but he could no longer complete his earlier plan. He couldn't kiss her now. She'd want to know why he wanted to kiss her so badly. And that line of questioning was exactly something he didn't want to endure. He stuffed all of the problematic plants in a bin bag and made to leave.
"Don' goh. 'Ll be *sniff* bedder ina few minnits." She continued to sniffle and dabbed at her still watery eyes.
"It's best if I dispose of this now before you get worse. I'll see you later, Molly," Sherlock answered. Without any further remark, he left. He had only gone a few steps down when he heard another sneeze from his poor pathologist. In trying to make amends, he had only succeeded in making matters worse.
End Day 1 - Mistletoe