Author's Note: Phew, hectic time here lately. Hope you all had a lovely Christmas! Just said goodbye to my mum today at the airport and she's headed back to Australia. I'll miss her, but on the bright side, I should have more time in future to go back to writing and publishing. Hope you enjoy this next installment!
"Molly!" came Sherlock's voice from the front of the flat. "Are you coming? The taxi will be here any minute." His voice was a little impatient.
"I'll be right there." Molly hastily tucked the final wrapped gift into the big bag of presents and headed out of the bedroom quickly.
Sherlock was already standing at the door, changing bag slung over his shoulder, and Victoria already on his hip. The overnight bag stood at his feet. His forehead creased into a frown. "What took you so long?"
Molly put her free hand on her hip. "I told you I had to wrap that present. Remember how your mother told us a couple days ago that Mycroft was bringing another guest? She said it was Elizabeth's son, Michael. So I had to dash out last minute and go buy something for him."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, while bouncing Victoria on his hip, and gesturing for Molly to precede him so he could grab the overnight bag and lock up the flat. "Why? You don't even know him."
Molly gave him an exasperated look as she passed him. "Because it would be rude to give out gifts and not have one for him." She began walking down the stairs.
Sherlock followed right behind. "It's hardly our fault that Mycroft invited another guest at the last second, Molly," he pointed out quite reasonably.
She glanced back at him, then continued walking. "I know, but I just wouldn't feel right if we hadn't bought something. Besides, handkerchiefs monogrammed with the letter M are not a big deal. Anyway, I thought it would be cute, seeing as we bought those for Mycroft as well, Kind of a chance to show we are welcoming him, in a way, to the family, even if it is as a stepson for Mycroft."
She reached the bottom of the stairs and waited for Sherlock to join her. When he did, he kissed her lightly on the forehead. "My sweet, always thoughtful wife," he commented, with a smile at her, before opening the door to the street.
The taxi was indeed waiting for them, and they got in after stowing the overnight bag and Christmas presents in the boot, then Sherlock gave the driver instructions to the Victoria Coach station. How ironic, Molly thought, our baby sharing the same name as the coach station.
Sherlock sat quietly, holding Victoria on his lap, and Molly could tell he was brooding. Even the way their daughter was reaching out to grab at her daddy's curls, in the way Rosie also liked to do, was not enough to distract him. He seemed far away.
"Sherlock?" Molly asked tentatively, putting a hand on his arm and trying to rouse him from his reverie.
It was a full thirty seconds before he turned his head towards her. "Did you say something, love?" he asked, somewhat apologetically.
Molly ventured a half smile. She was used to his mind palace trips by now. "Just your name. I was trying to get your attention. What have you been thinking about?"
"Ouch," he complained, grabbing at the lock of hair which Victoria had managed to grab hold of and was trying to put in her mouth. "Not in your mouth, sweet pea," he told her sternly, and her little lips began to tremble, until he stroked her downy thatch of brown hair and kissed her forehead. "Sit nicely on Daddy's lap, so I can talk to Mummy," he told her in a more gentle tone, and surprisingly, she complied, settling her head against his chest.
Molly waited expectantly for him to return his attention to her. He blinked, as if to try and remember what she had asked him, then answered her question. "I was thinking how different it will be this year. Last year it was just us and Mycroft with Mummy and Daddy. This year it will be a whole houseful. All those extra bedrooms will certainly be put to good use."
"It will be strange not being in the same bedroom, although I understand why," Molly commented. "Your bedroom would be a little small to accommodate the cot for Victoria."
Sherlock gave her a rather seductive glance. "It's rather fortuitous that the bedroom we will be using is in another part of the house from the rest of the family. More privacy." He winked at her, and she blushed. Mind you, the fact that Sherlock's old bedroom was next door to Mycroft's had not made any difference to Sherlock the previous year when they had spent a most enjoyable night in his bed and in the shower the next morning too, she thought, somewhat nostalgically. There was no guarantee that Victoria would stay asleep long enough to allow them the luxury of enjoying private time together anyway. She had a habit of waking up at the most inconvenient of times.
Molly smiled and rested her head against Sherlock's shoulder, raising an affectionate hand to her baby's cheek. She was so pleased that Victoria's eyes remained blue, and, if anything, seemed to be changing slightly to the changeable blue-green ones of her father. She was really looking forward to Christmas. It would be fun having John and Kayla there as well, and this time it was Kayla who was pregnant, rather than herself.
Molly knew that Rosie would be delighted to see her little "cousin" too. She herself was now Auntie Molly and Sherlock was Uncle Sherlock to the little girl. It had long ago been decided that John and Sherlock, being as close as brothers anyway, should, as a result, be afforded the honorary title by any children they might have.
Upon arrival at the coach station, they settled into their seats for the two hour long journey. It was a shame the trains weren't running, because the train would have been significantly faster, but it couldn't be helped, and really, two hours on the coach was preferable to ninety minutes in a car with Mycroft looking resentful the whole time. If there was one thing Molly knew for sure about her brother-in-law, it was that he was not comfortable in dealing with fussy infants, and there was no guarantee that Victoria would behave like a model child throughout the journey.
With the coach setting off at eight in the morning, it was due to arrive in Brighton at quarter past ten.
It was about halfway into the journey that Victoria began to fuss, having napped for an hour. Sherlock had been patiently holding her the entire time, and he handed her over to Molly, knowing that he couldn't provide the sustenance she required. While they did have baby formula along as well, it would not have been practical to make up a bottle in the coach, and breast-feeding was still the easiest way to take care of Victoria when she was hungry and they weren't in a place where you could not offer baby food or formula easily.
Afterwards, Victoria was content, and Molly gave her a teething ring to chew on, which kept her occupied for some time. At seven and a half months old, she had four teeth on the bottom and had been known to accidentally bite Molly during breast-feeding. Fortunately, she seemed to understand when her mother would yelp with pain, and then suckle properly.
By the time they arrived in Brighton, though, Molly was definitely ready to stretch her legs for a few minutes, as she waited for Sherlock to arrange a taxi for them.
This was procured in short order, and the last leg of the journey only took fifteen minutes.
Victoria was just beginning to protest her confinement, when Molly caught sight of the grand old, red exterior country home. It really was rather magnificent and bespoke of the Holmes family's wealth, not that she cared at all about that.
Sherlock had texted his mother of their imminent arrival, and as soon as they were out of the taxi, Sherlock took up the overnight case and presents, while Molly had charge of the changing bag and the baby. Mrs. Holmes opened the front door, hurrying up the path to greet them, despite the chilly weather. Molly had to smile at the look of pique that crossed Sherlock's face, when his mother brushed past him and went immediately to take Victoria out of Molly's arms, saying, "And how's my sweet grand-baby? I hope the journey wasn't too much for you."
"Merry Christmas to you as well, Mummy," muttered Sherlock as they walked the short distance to the front door. Molly hid a smile. She could tell Sherlock was feeling a little under-appreciated. He was used to being the centre of attention, but now that position had been usurped by his daughter. Despite Sherlock's outward demeanour of finding his mother's usual affection too much, Molly knew he secretly enjoyed the attention.
Molly opened the front door for him, as she was now childless, standing aside as he stepped inside with their bags, followed by his mother and Victoria, before Molly entered herself and set down the changing bag.
Sherlock dropped his bags and hung his coat and scarf on the the coat rack beside the door, then helped Molly off with her own jacket.
Still cooing distractedly at her granddaughter, and taking off Victoria's snowsuit jacket, Violet Holmes looked briefly at Sherlock and gestured towards the rear of the house. "You can take your overnight bag upstairs to the spare room, dear. The cot is already set up for Victoria as well. We even bought a baby monitor in case she needs a nap during the day."
Sherlock merely grunted, picking up the overnight bag again and heading in the direction his mother had indicated. Molly watched him go, furrowing her brow. Was he – stomping?
She turned her attention back to her mother-in-law. "Do you need help with anything? I mean, that's the reason we came early, so I could help you get things ready for the big Christmas dinner."
Violet Holmes smiled. "I think everything is in order for now. After lunch is when things will get busy," she responded. "My goodness, how Victoria has grown just in the past month! I must take her in to show her grandpa." She kissed her granddaughter on the cheek, and the little girl let out a gurgle of laughter.
"Oh, where is he?" inquired Molly curiously, looking around . She was rather surprised he had not also been on hand to greet them.
Mrs. Holmes pursed her lips and said confidingly, "He's taking a nap in the armchair in the small sitting room. He wore himself out bringing in wood for the fires earlier. I told him one of the boys could bring more wood in when they got here, but he insisted. He keeps forgetting he isn't as young as he used to be." She shook her head in exasperation.
Molly nodded sympathetically at that, then asked, "Where should I put the bag with the Christmas presents?" The previous year they had exchanged gifts in the small sitting room by the Christmas tree, but this year there would be a lot more people. She suspected the tradition of each person opening one gift while the others watched, would not be feasible with such a group this time either.
She was therefore not surprised by her mother-in-law's response. "You can take the bag over there, near the fireplace. I thought we would open presents together as soon as everyone has arrived. Mycroft will be last, he expects to be here at two o'clock."
"Sounds good, thanks," Molly responded, picking up the bag of Christmas presents. Then she addressed her mother-in-law once again. "I should really change Victoria as well. I'm quite surprised she hasn't dirtied her nappy yet, but I'm sure it's wet."
As if sensing her mother was talking about her, Victoria extended her arms towards Molly. "Hold on, sweet pea, Mummy just has to put these presents over there and then I'll change your nappy," Molly told her.
As she carried the bag next to the fireplace, Molly wondered briefly why Sherlock had not come back after taking their overnight bag upstairs. She deposited the bag, then returned to her mother-in-law, who had walked into the kitchen and was pointing out various kitchen items to the little girl.
Violet Holmes reluctantly returned the baby to Molly so she could change her nappy, saying, "Now, mind you give her right back as soon as you're done, dear. I need to spoil my granddaughter a little, seeing as I have not seen her in over a month."
Molly's lips twitched upwards. Violet Holmes was certainly making the most of being a grandmother, and she supposed it wasn't surprising, seeing as it had taken such a long time for her to become one.
Molly changed Victoria's nappy and returned her to the care of her grandmother. Fortunately, the baby did not seem hungry anymore, she was more fascinated by the new surroundings than anything else and was obviously enjoying being held by Grandma.
Violet Holmes seemed to be of the same mindset. "Molly, why don't you go upstairs and rest for a bit before lunch? I know how tiresome it can be to be on a coach for hours. It is a pity trains don't run on Christmas Day, they are so much faster."
Molly hesitated. The baby might be happy now, but she was probably going to be hungry soon.
As if anticipating this, the older woman added, "If Victoria gets hungry, I can just give her a bottle. I also have bananas that I can mash for her if she wants some solid food." She indicated the brand new high chair in the kitchen. "Her grandpa bought this especially, and we need to make use of it. I'll call you when it's time for lunch. It's only going to be sandwiches."
"Well, if you're sure-" Molly answered slowly, and Mrs. Holmes gave her a stern look.
"Of course I am. I want a little quality time with my granddaughter, and you need a little time to yourself. Believe me, I know how draining it can be to have a new baby in the house. Apparently Sherlock has already decided to take a nap, seeing as he never returned, so you had best join him." She made a shoo-ing motion with her free hand, and Molly could have sworn she winked.
Defeated by her mother-in-law's logic, Molly Kissed her daughter on the cheek and left the kitchen. She made a quick pitstop in the toilet and then headed upstairs to the spare bedroom, from which Sherlock had not returned.
Having not seen the bedroom before, Molly was quite startled by its size when she reached the top of the stairs. It was significantly bigger than Sherlock's bedroom, and even with a queen-sized bed and a cot next to it, the room was quite enormous.
Once Molly had overcome her astonishment at the size of the room, she noticed that Sherlock had kicked off his shoes and was laying on the bed with his hands behind his head and eyes closed. There was a definite downward tilt to the curves of his full lips.
She perched on the edge of the bed next to him, reached over to brush at the curls on his forehead and asked, "Why are you still up here? I thought you'd be back down as soon as you dropped the bag off."
His lips just tightened and he didn't answer. By now she knew that was a sign he was in one of his sulky moods. He had a tendency to act this way when he was feeling particularly neglected, and it had happened several times since Victoria was born because Molly just could not give him her undivided attention all the time. Unfortunately, babies had a tendency to require attention at the most inconvenient of times, and they wouldn't stop crying until their needs were met.
Seeking to pull Sherlock out of his sulk, Molly leaned over and pressed her lips against his, then said, "Tell me what's wrong." She was pretty sure she knew what was wrong, but Sherlock needed to express it so that she could help him get over it.
She squeaked a little when he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to his other side so that she was laying next to him. "You know very well what's wrong, Molly," he told her, looking deeply into her eyes.
Molly thought about the previous evening. They had gone to church for the Christmas Eve service. It had been lovely, and they had lit candles during the singing of Silent Night at the end. John and Kayla were there with Rosie as usual, and Rosie had very much enjoyed seeing all the candles. Victoria had slept through the service, supremely unaware of the significance of the birth of the Saviour.
After the service, Sherlock and Molly had headed over to Molly's mother's place to spend some time with her and exchange gifts. Mrs. Hooper had been invited to Sussex as well, but had declined, declaring that Mrs. Holmes had enough guests to deal with, without adding another one.
Because of this, Molly had felt she and Sherlock should spend a little extra time with her mother, because Victoria would get to spend the whole of Christmas with the Holmes grandparents.
As soon as they had arrived home, Mrs. Hudson had popped out of her flat and insisted on also giving them Christmas gifts, offering holiday eggnog - a non-alcoholic version, especially for Molly as she stated, and spending a little time with Victoria. The elderly landlady was heading over to her sister's place for Christmas Day.
By the time Molly and Sherlock had returned to their flat with Victoria, it was after eleven o'clock, and Molly still had presents to wrap, as well as feed a fussy baby. She had told Sherlock to go to bed without her, and he had reluctantly complied. By the time Molly had settled Victoria upstairs in her cot, and almost finished wrapping the presents, save the one for Mycroft's stepson, she was extremely weary, and decided wrapping the last present could wait until morning. She had climbed into bed with Sherlock, who had woken and made an attempt to kiss her and get her in the mood for some lovemaking, but Molly had simply been too tired to muster any enthusiasm, and he had given up, turning his back on her.
Now, Molly realised Sherlock was feeling neglected not only by his mother, but by her as well. "I'm sorry about last night, sweetheart. I knew we had to be up early this morning, and I was just so tired. I'll make it up to you tonight, I promise." Then she added, with a wry smile, "as long as Victoria cooperates."
He reached a hand out to stroke her cheek. "I'm sorry too, love. If I had helped you wrap the presents, you would have been in bed earlier, but you know I'm rubbish at that sort of thing." He bent forward to press his lips against hers this time, and she responded, winding her arms around his neck to prolong it a little.
When their lips parted, Sherlock said, "Anyway, I'm not really cross with you, it's Mummy who is the problem." He huffed out a breath. "Ever since Victoria came along, I feel like a second-class citizen. It's like she doesn't even notice me anymore, and it's all about the baby." He pursed his lips.
"Maybe you won't be so cross with your mother when you hear what she just told me," Molly ventured, peeking at him from beneath her lashes. Perhaps they didn't need to wait until tonight after all.
"And what's that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"She said I should go upstairs and rest until lunchtime, and that she would take care of Victoria. I don't think that she was trying to suggest anything other than resting but..." her voice drifted off.
Sherlock's eyes sparkled then, and he reached to caress her back beneath her blouse and festive Christmas jumper. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
She smirked, reaching for his buttons. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
Sherlock needed no further invitation, and he proceeded to kiss her breathless before making quick work of removing their clothing. Time was short, but not so short that they didn't thoroughly enjoy themselves, and it was a very much more contented Sherlock who walked down the stairs hand-in-hand with his wife half an hour later when they were called for lunch.
Half an hour after that, there was a knock at the door. John, Kayla and Rosie had arrived.
Author's Note 2: At least Sherlock and Molly got a little bit of alone time. Poor Sherlock was feeling just a bit neglected. If you are a parent, have you noticed that once you have children, they get all the attention from your own parents?
Any English readers will already have been aware that trains don't run on Christmas Day, but I'm glad I checked that for myself. I do try to keep my facts as accurate as possible.
As I mentioned in my Christmas in Sussex story, the layout of this house is the factual one of the one used in His Last Vow.
Next chapter will be a John POV,.
As always, I look forward to hearing from you, dear readers!