This story is for theslightlyevilpooka (who isn't the least bit evil, as it turns out). She wanted a Christmas with Molly at the Holmes house, bonus if Mummy had seen the 'slaps' via CCTV footage. I had no beta this time (didn't want to bother anyone during the holidays) so please forgive any mistakes. Hope you like it Pooka!

I own nothing.

Happy Holidays, I hope you all have good fortune and joy in the upcoming New Year. Love you! ~Lil~

Sherlock was not the least bit pleased about having to attend yet another Christmas with his family. As he pulled the car up the winding country lane he thought about how awful the experience would be, and he cringed. Nothing interesting awaited him this year. No case, no reason to steal his brother's laptop, not even the Watsons since they were spending the holiday with John's 'recovering' sister. No, this would be incredibly dull and incredibly pointless. But Mummy had called and insisted that he owed her a good Christmas after drugging the entire family and murdering that awful man last year.

Fine, he thought. But next year I'll find a reason to be in Yeman or Turks and Caicos. Anything would be better than the torture that lurked behind the overly cheerful walls of his parents home. He parked the car and checked his breast pocket for the gift cards he'd purchased for his parents. When he tried the front door, he found it was locked. He knocked, expecting his mother to fling the door open and wrap him in one of her obligatory hugs. But the door didn't open… no hugs… no Mummy. He knocked again.

Finally his father answered. "Sorry William. Didn't hear you. Your mother's in the kitchen with Molly and I was wrapping gifts in my study. You're brother's late of course, something about a small national emergency."

Sherlock froze. What? "Molly- Molly Hooper?"

"Your shoes, William," his father admonished. "Yes, Molly. Didn't Mother tell you she'd invited her?"

Sherlock toed off his shoes and hung up his coat. "No! She didn't." What is that devious woman up to? he wondered. He followed his father into the kitchen where he found his mother and his pathologist sipping tea and laughing… at his expense.

"…not proud of it. Well, perhaps I'm a little proud," Molly said tucking her head and giggling.

"Why shouldn't you be proud? Myke showed me the CCTV footage. You have a quite an arm on you, young lady. Besides, he deserved it. That will come in handy, trust me." She winked then turned and finally saw her husband and son standing in the doorway. "Oh, look who finally arrived." She stood up and gave Sherlock a warm hug.

"Mummy," Sherlock said as he hugged her back making eye contact with Molly, who had stood up and was smiling at him.

His mother stepped away, looking back and forth between the pair. "Well?"

Molly started. "Oh, of course. I hope you had a nice trip. Did you hire a car or…"

Sherlock's huff interrupted her as he planted his hands on his hips and looked at his mother. "Why is my pathologist here?"

Sherlock's mother narrowed her eyes. "That was not the least bit polite, William! I clearly invited her. I know how much you hate it when the obvious is stated. Now, greet our guest."

"She's not our guest, she's… she's just Molly!"

Molly flinched at Sherlock's words, then she turned to Mummy. "I had a lovely time, Vi. But it seems that your son hasn't exactly learned his lesson. And since it's the holidays and I'm not really in the teaching mood," She gave Sherlock a harsh glare then looked back at the older woman. "I'll just call a cab back to London."

She started to leave but Mr. Holmes intervened. "Molly, please forgive William, his social skills may be a bit lacking…"

"No offense, Siger, but Sherlock isn't lacking social skills. He's lacking common decency."

"Oh, really?" Sherlock moved closer to Molly.

"Yes, really! You're rude, inconsiderate and completely oblivious to anyone other than yourself." She stepped closer. "I have tried to be patient, Sherlock. I've forgiven all the insults and manipulations. I allow you to bust into my lab and shout out orders like you own the place. But you WON'T ruin yet another Christmas for me! Understand?"

"Ruin Christmas for you? I didn't ask you to be here, Molly! Don't you have an empty apartment and cat to get back to?"

Molly huffed. "Going right for my spinsterhood this year, ah Sherlock? What running out of material on my breasts?"

"I've seen your breasts, Molly remember? I like a bit of a challenge." He pointed at her chest. "That's like shooting fish in a barrel."

Molly didn't even react, she just stared at him for all of four seconds before storming past him and into the front of the house. Sherlock looked around and realised he was alone, his parents had disappeared at some point during the argument. He swallowed, hard. How do I always hash things up with Molly? he wondered. He kicked a dining chair then went to go find her.

Unfortunately he found his mother first. Violet Holmes halted his progress in the hallway leading to the sitting room. "Your father's taking her back to London."

"If you'll just let me pass…" he started.

"No," she said putting up both hands.

"Mummy, I assure you, there are mitigating circumstances…"

"You slept with her and never acknowledged it," she said with fire in her eyes.

Sherlock felt his cheeks heat up. He had no intention of talking to Mummy about such…

"Don't William. If you want to play at being a grow-up you'd better be prepared to accept the consequences. And that little display was a bit less than mature."

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably and stared at the floor. "I, um, suppose that I've been…"

"When?"

"What?" he asked looking up and hating the judgment in her eyes. He normally didn't care what people thought about him, but Mummy…

She rolled her eyes. "When did it happen William?"

"Didn't Molly tell you?"

She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "You're not the only one who can make a very obvious deduction, young man. Molly didn't say a word."

He considered not answering, but he knew very well that his mother wouldn't allow him to pass until she was satisfied with his answer. "It was four years ago. Before I left."

She shook her head. "Idiot."

"Mother, this has been wonderfully uncomfortable, but I need to speak with Molly." He tried to push past the woman once again, but she still wouldn't allow it.

She studied her son for a moment then said, "It's my fault you know, I never… you're father's free with his affection." She steeled herself. "I blame myself, I never properly showed you boys how to love. And because of that…"

She turned to go but Sherlock stopped her, and in the process missed hearing the front door opening. "I did try," he said.

"What did you try?" his mother asked.

"I tried to tell Molly h-how I felt, after… well, before." He shook his head. "I wanted to. I wanted to ask her to wait for me." He turned and paced back toward the kitchen. "But I didn't, I just left before she woke. I was so… scared," he said weakly. He turned back to his mother. "Then I came home and she- she was engaged." He swallowed. "She'd moved on, Mummy. I lost my chance. So foolish of me to think she'd wait all that time. I'd given her nothing… no real indication… I'd only hoped…"

His mother placed her hands on either side of his face. "So William, if you had the chance, one last chance to tell her how you felt, what would you say?"

Sherlock suddenly felt safe, looking down in his mother's eyes. He could say it out loud, just this once. "I'd tell her that I love her and that it's always been her. I'd tell her that I miss her smile, the way she used to smile before things got… I'd ask her if I could hold her, just one last time."

His mother smiled and nodded then turned her head slightly and said, "Did you get all that?"

Molly Hooper emerged from around the corner. She was still bundled up in her outerwear, her face was red and her eyes comically large. "I did," she said quietly.

Sherlock was too stunned to speak. But his mother wasn't. "Father's car wouldn't start."

Molly looked at the older woman. "How'd you..?"

Violet smiled and winked. "Well, I'll just leave you two."

Sherlock and Molly stood staring at each other for several moments. Finally Molly spoke. "What you said…"

"Yes?"

"Did you mean any of it?"

Forward or back? he thought. His stomach was clinched in a painful knot. Molly might never forgive him, even if he was truthful right now. He didn't know, and he hated not knowing. Finally he made a decision. "All of it," he said never taking his eyes from hers.

Molly nodded. "So you love me?"

"It seems so."

She nodded again. "I, ah," she swallowed as three fat tears fell down her cheeks. "I love you too, you know."

Sherlock released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I didn't, actually. I… I thought…"

"Well you thought wrong," she interrupted.

"Molly?"

"Yes?"

"May I..?" He gestured towards her in a general way, not even sure what he was asking.

She smiled brightly and nodded once again. He didn't hesitate. He rushed forward wrapping his arms around her shoulders. It was a bit awkward what with her big coat and scarf. "I'm going to kiss you now."

"I should think so." She laughed.

And he did. He kissed Molly with all the love he'd long since denied them both. When they finally broke for air and he hugged her to him tightly. Molly tired to speak, but he couldn't hear her, so he pulled back.

"I said, you realise that this was all orchestrated by your parents. They set us up."

He had already started unwinding her giant scarf, needing her out of the thing to make it more real. "Yes, I'm very much aware."

Molly helped him with her bulky coat. "And how do we feel about that?" She laughed as they both tried to pull down the zipper.

He smiled at her brightly. "Can't say that I mind. Actually, this is a better Christmas gift than the year they got me a puppy." He kissed her again.

Thanks so much for reading. Let me know what you think. And let me just say how much I appreciate all of you wonderful people who read, review/comment, kudo/follow my stories. It means the world to me. You are all absolutely wonderful. ~Lil~