Clara drums her fingers on the counter as she waits for the kettle to come to a boil. It's December 21st and it's almost Christmas which obviously means everyone is busy. Clara has been in so many shops hunting for the right presents that everything has simply blurred together and the pile of bags on the table has become almost daunting and scary task to deal with. So she decided that tonight everyone is staying in and it's going to be a Christmas movie night. No more shopping or dead bodies.
Sherlock is sitting with Willow in the living room. The little girl is giggling as her father tickles her stomach and grins at her response. The eight year old has Sherlock's startling eyes and curly black hair, but the rest of her belongs to Clara. She's wearing a huge, oversized jumper that Sherlock's mother knitted for her, which Sherlock tried to throw out when it first arrived but Clara threatened to pour hot tea on him if he dared do such a thing. So, much to his dismay, the bright green and red jumper stayed and his daughter wears it almost daily.
The kettle finally boils and Clara makes tea for her and Sherlock and hot chocolate for Willow. She grabs a handful of marshmallows and drops them into the steaming hot chocolate then carefully grabs all the drinks and carries them out to the living room. Willow is picking out the movie while Sherlock scrolls through his phone.
"Turn it off," Clara snaps as she hands him the tea. He glances up at her and smirks, but does comply and slips his phone into his shirt pocket. Clara sits down on the couch beside him and curls up, leaning against his bony frame. Despite how slim and bony he is, Clara still finds him to be the most comfortable thing to lean against. He presses a kiss to the side of her head and she smiles into her tea. Sherlock isn't one to show a lot of affection, so when he does, Clara savours each little act of romance even if it is something as simple as a kiss on her head.
"How about Christmas with the Kranks?" Willow asks.
"Good job, you managed to choose the most American movie possible." Sherlock grumbles but Clara quickly elbows him and Sherlock bites his lip before he says anything else. Willow slips the movie into the DVD player and then runs over to the couch and jumps right in between Sherlock and Clara. Sherlock puts his arm over Willow and pulls her close. Clara smiles at her small family, the consulting detective and his daughter.
Clara had travelled with the Doctor until she met Sherlock one day in London. She thought she would only see him once, but after their first encounter their paths kept crossing. Eventually, Clara had to admit to herself that she had feelings for the strange man. And Sherlock had to admit it that he had feelings for her too. So one day, Clara told the Doctor that it was time for her to stay in London… with Sherlock. A year later, she was sitting on the toilet holding a pregnancy test with trembling hands. Life with Sherlock was in no way easy and there were times when Clara would have to leave and stay at Mary's house to calm her nerves. What the hell will a child do to their relationship?! Will Sherlock want it? Does she want it? The questions that ran through her mind were endless. However, a mere twenty minutes later Sherlock came home and found Clara still seated on the toilet. He took one look at the pregnancy test and his eyes grew wide, but he quickly composed himself, knelt down in front of Clara and took her small hands in his own. And he simply nodded, giving her his answer.
Keeping the baby was the best thing either of them could have done. Little Willow brought Sherlock and Clara closer than either of them ever thought possible.
Clara sighs and smiles, closing her eyes and savouring the sound of her daughter's giggles. The little girl is beyond excited for Christmas and the silly movie is doing nothing to tame that excitement. Clara can't blame her, because when she was a little girl she'd be thrilled too, particularly because her mother loved it and would always be decorating and getting everything ready long before Christmas week. Thinking about her mother makes the familiar lump in her throat appear, but she quickly swallows it and focuses back on something happy; Sherlock and her daughter. Watching their responses to the movie is better than the movie itself, at least it is to her.
After about 50 minutes into the movie, Willow has fallen asleep. Sherlock quietly turns off the movie and then scoops the small girl up and carries her to the bedroom, with Clara following behind. It doesn't take them long to get to the little girl's room and Clara quickly pulls the fluffy purple comforter back so Sherlock can lay the little girl in the bed. They both kiss her on the head before making their way back to the living room. Clara observes the presents under the tree, most are for Willow. There's a good few from Uncle Mycroft as well as a tiny box, clumsily wrapped in dark blue paper, addressed to Willow and from someone who only used one letter; D. Her eyebrows draw together and she kneels down and picks up the box, rolling it around in her hands.
"Sherlock, who's this from?" she asks. He glances over her shoulder and when he sees, he begins to chew on his bottom lip, something he does in those rare occasions when he's actually hesitant to tell her something. She's come to know that sign and lets out an annoyed sigh.
"Tell me please," she tells him.
"It's from the Doctor. I know you two haven't spoken in a long time, but I thought I should put it under the tree. He was very insistent." Sherlock explained. Clara is quiet as she continues to roll the present around in her hands. She hasn't spoken, let alone seen, the Doctor in so long. She misses the strange man, but she knows he's off on his adventures so she knew when she said goodbye and went with Sherlock, it would probably be the last time she ever spoke to her Doctor. She lays the present down and folds her arms over her chest.
"How was he?" she asked quietly.
"Fine, from what I could see." Sherlock answers. He's not going to lie or sugar coat anything and say that the Doctor was amazing or happy, because he was not. The Doctor looked tired and worn, but he always looks like that. But he is still holding on and making it through and that's why he is fine.
"Maybe she'll meet him one day," Clara says as she makes her way back to the couch and she slumps down on the cushions. Sherlock smirks as her chestnut hair covers her face and she huffs, blowing it off her face. "I can't believe it's another Christmas already." She says as she kicks her legs up so they're resting on the top of the couch. She has fallen asleep so many times like that, and Sherlock has given up trying to move her when she does. He accidentally knocked her off the couch once and she had a bruise on her forehead for almost a week.
Sherlock smirks and sits down beside her and rests his large hand on her ribcage. He leans back and closes his eyes before answering. "We're going to have to go to Christmas dinner with my parents." He mumbles.
Clara grins and chuckles. "Willow loves it." She tells him. Sherlock does an acknowledging nod. He knows she loves being out there with his family, she can even convince Uncle Mycroft to join.
Sherlock opens his eyes and looks down at Clara, who is staring out the window with her wide eyes. Maybe she's counting the stars or maybe looking for the Tardis in the dark blue sky. Sherlock reaches down and grasps her head, squeezing it tightly. He knows he will probably never let go of that hand.
Another year has brought more challenges and changes, but they managed to get through it. They can always brave the storm, no matter how bad it is.