I've got five more nights of sleeping on my own.
Four more days until you're coming home.
Three more dreams of you and mistletoe.
Two more reasons why I love you so.
If I can make it to Christmas Eve, then it's one more sleep.
-One More Sleep by Leona Lewis
It was near three in the morning when her phone rang. Molly opened up her eyes, her sight bleary. It was an unknown number, but a part of her had a feeling it would be Sherlock.
"Hello?" she yawned, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.
"Molly? I don't have much time, but I thought you'd like to know I'll be home on Christmas," Sherlock told her quickly and quietly.
"You will?" she asked, smiling and wide awake now.
"Yes, I promise. This will all be over soon," he assured her. "I have to go now, darling. I love you."
"I love you too," she whispered before the call ended. He was going to be home for Christmas and Molly couldn't believe it. After the fall, he had stayed with her for a week before leaving to take down Moriarty's network. And what a week it had been. Sherlock had made it crystal clear of how he felt for her on more than one occasion that week. The night before he left was when they had made love for the first time and Molly had promised to wait for him, telling him to come home to her soon. And now he would be home in just five days.
Molly hadn't an idea what she was going to do until Christmas besides go to work and come home like usual. She needed ways to pass the time. Her flat was already decorated, so there wasn't much to do there. She still needed to buy a gift for Sherlock and then it hit her…he really was coming home and they could be together. It was really happening. Her disbelief sent her into tears of joy at the thought of being in his arms again.
She always wore his shirt to bed even when his scent left it. Oh how she missed his scent and the pressure of his lips on hers. Molly was tired of sleeping alone and couldn't wait until she could sleep beside him again. Her heart felt as if it would burst at the thought. Deciding to finally go to the shops, she threw on her coat and went out into the snow covered street.
She dreamt of him every night wondering of the many ways they'd be reunited. Would he come see her at work? Maybe he'd text her to come to Baker Street. Perhaps Mycroft would fetch her in one of those cars that seem to come out of nowhere. She got her answer early Christmas morning. It was four fifteen in the morning when Molly felt her bed dip down beside her. He was home. Sherlock chuckled when she immediately curled up in his arms, snogging the breath out of him.
"Finally," she breathed when their kiss was finally broken.
"My Molly," he smiled," I've missed you."
"I missed you too…so much," she mumbled against his chest, holding onto him for dear life. She'd be damned if she ever let him go again. At one time, Molly would have been embarrassed of allowing herself to cry in front of him, but now she didn't care one bit. He comforted her, holding her in his arms and pressing kisses into her hair. Tomorrow, the world would know that Sherlock Holmes was very much alive, but tonight, he was her secret and only hers.
