Sherlock Holmes awoke at 5:30 am Christmas morning to the ominous sound of tiny feet pattering on the carpeted floor.

All the breath left him in an OOF as Melody Hooper-Holmes, his five year old daughter, jumped on top of him where he lay beside his wife Molly in bed.

She was small, like Molly, and had the same hazel-brown eyes, but her hair was Sherlock's, shoulder length bouncy black curls.

Seizing handfuls of his curly hair, she shrieked "DADDY! S' CHRISTMAS! CHRISTMAS! SANTA CAME!"

Molly rolled over, smiling but shooting a warning look at her husband, who had only grudgingly allowed the myth of Santa Clause to exist in his home 5 years ago.

"DADDY! Presents presents PRESENTS!" squealed the little girl.

He sat up, and she released his hair. He looked at her shrewdly, an eyebrow quirked, suppressing a smile

"And what makes you think you got any presents?"

Melody's face fell "I thought Santa came…"

"Well…" said Sherlock, looking at Molly, who had sat up, her hair somehow immaculate.

"Let's go find out!" and with a sudden burst of energy, Sherlock leapt out of bed, yanked his dressing gown on, and picked up his small daughter, holding her under his arm.

She shrieked and giggled as he went galumphing down the st airs, pounding on Mrs. Hudson's door, but saved the necessity of speaking by a squeal from his daughter "S' CHRISTMAS TIME GRAMMA! CHRISTMAS!"

Mrs. Hudson's shout of "Be right out dears" did not fool Sherlock. He knew he'd be in for it when Melody couldn't hear Mrs. Hudson use a few choice words. He went back up the stairs, Melody still under his arm, her girls a wild mess around her face. Molly was making tea in the kitchen, and they turning into the main room where the tree stood, decorated by paper chains, lights, and home made ornaments. And beneath it….

"HE DID COME! Told ya, silly daddy"

Sherlock set her down as Molly returned, a camera in one hand and a tray with two cups of tea on it in the other.

She handed one to Sherlock and perched on the arm of the chair where he sat, taking pictures as Melody shrieked and gasped in delight at microscopes, cooking sets (of the Easy-Bake Oven variety), her favorite candy, and a grow-your-own crystal kit.

Molly had talked Sherlock out of getting her an ant farm.

Melody came scampering over to her parents, and whispered, very seriously "How do I say 'thank you' to Santa?"

Sherlock exchanged looks with his wife.

"Well….you simply close your eyes….go on, close them"

Melody closed her eyes, the ones she had inherited from Molly.

"And you think it very hard, and Santa will know"

"Thank you Santa" mumbled Melody, her eyes squeezed shut and her little freckled face screwed up in concentration. "Thank you thank you THANK YOU"

She opened her eyes.

"Well done!" praised Sherlock as she hopped into his lap.

"Daddy, will you tell me a story?"

Sherlock looked over at Molly, who was now picking up wrapping paper.

"Once, there was a lonely young man. He was lonely for a very long time…..so when he met a beautiful maiden…"

Molly looked up, smiling at him.

"….he didn't know how to behave. He was quite rude to her. Hurt her a bit"

"I hope the maiden got him good for that!" growled Melody.

"Oh she did. In fact, she got him so good….that he married her."