Disclaimer: nothing mine. BBC and Conan Doyle share the merits, errors and flaws are mine.

A.N. Today's prompt (n.2): Gift giving.

Molly was a fixture at Christmas parties in Baker Street. Even after the Hiatus. After all, Sherlock was grateful for her help. John might be furious for her deceit, but things would have been unspeakably worse if she had denied her full collaboration and compliance with the sleuth's instructions. Almost surely, at least one of Mrs. Hudson's tenants would have died in that case. So she was forgiven. The absolute hypocrisy of forgiving Sherlock but not her had a large hand in persuading the army doctor, she suspected. John didn't want to be that kind of man.

She needed a gift that said, "Sorry," anyway. Good thing that she had a stroke of luck. A stroke of luck whose first name started by M, to be entirely honest. John had told her once (with much bemoaning) that his textbooks from Uni had been left at Harry's when he enlisted, and that she had somehow managed to 'lose' them. Probably sold them, he surmised. Not that he needed them, but when she found them in a bookstore specialised in second-hand books (John did know his sister) she bought some of them. She was sure about recognizing John's books, because not only he signed them – homonymy was always a possibility – but he told her how he used a ridiculous ex libris, which was on them. She didn't buy all his textbooks, though. After all, Mycroft needed to say sorry too. On unwrapping his gift, John hugged her, and Molly wondered how the elder Holmes would cope with that kind of forgiving.

After such a display, it was Sherlock's turn. He kindly refrained from deducing her – loudly at least. Molly had made an effort to wrap his present not differently than she did all her friends' presents, so she supposed that they had both learned something from that awfully awkward party. She accepted that he would not be interested in her nowadays. Not like that, but being his friend still meant to belong to a very narrow circle of people, and she could be proud of it.

"You might want to open it after the party," she warned with a grin. Sherlock was the absolute easiest person in the world to find a gift for, but not everyone here would take in stride the samples she got him. It was a thing to know, entirely another to see, as every medical student learned at his own expense. She didn't want to ruin the fun for the others.