==Chapter 2==

O Christmas Tree

"Nothing ever seems too bad, too hard or too sad when you've got a Christmas tree in the living room. All those presents under it, all that anticipation. Just a way of saying there's always light and hope in the world. And you're lucky enough to have a family to share it with."
— J.D. Robb, Memory in Death

"Get your Christmas trees here, ladies and gen'lemen," the hawker bellowed over the other merchants from his corner of the market square, "finest pines in all o' London!" With just two weeks left till Christmas, Sally and Beth had decided that they'd gone quite long enough without a certain seasonal touch in the sitting room.

Beth was bouncing with excitement, grinning, eyes shining. "Oh my gosh," she said softly, "oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" They were shopping for a live Christmas tree! Her own family hadn't done that since she was a little girl.

Sally had to giggle, Beth's enthusiasm infectious. The scene around them was just like something out of Dickens – and the smells! Oranges, hot chestnuts, coffee and freshly cut pine... She inhaled with relish as they approached the stall. "Mmm..."

Watson smiled and lightly squeezed Sally's arm. "How long has it been since you've done this? Picked out a live tree?"

"Not since Gran died – Aunt Helen always put up a fake tree after that, she hated vacuuming all those needles. It just wasn't the same, though." 1895... God, Gran's not even born yet... Good thing she grew up in Norfolk, I don't know if I could resist if it was London!

Beth nodded sympathetically. "It's fun assembling an artificial tree, but I know whatcha mean." She'd always been jealous of the live trees that extended family and friends usually had, but her family's artificial tree had just been easier to take care of, and in a big family, minimizing hassle was a priority.

An artficial tree? Holmes wouldn't have minded a touch less greenery cluttering up the flat... Pff, look who's talking! It was clear that nobody else in the party was enthusiastic about them, though. "Oh, Watson, I believe it's your turn to retrieve the ornaments from the attic this year."

Watson grimaced—and he didn't even have the excuse of his old wounds any longer!

Sally eyed the pair with a frown. "I take it this is a mission not to be undertaken by the faint of heart."

Holmes nodded. "The climb alone is no joke..." then grinned as a thought occurred. "Watson, I suggest a new stepladder for Mrs. Hudson this season."

Watson glanced heavenward. "Oh, for heaven's sake…" Would Holmes ever learn what made an appropriate Christmas gift? Well, perhaps Beth will steer him in the right direction now...

"How treacherous is this legendary climb?" Beth asked, seriously considering trying it herself.

"Well, if the ladder doesn't collapse on you while you're climbing, then you have to stand on tiptoes and negotiate with the hatch, which is usually swollen with the damp..."

Sally winced, squeezing her husband's arm. "A new ladder it is, then." They could always get Mrs. Hudson something else as well – she'd pick John's brain about that later.

"Okay," said Beth, eyes alight, "but I get to try the old one before we get rid of it."

Holmes shook his head in mild despair. "Incorrigible..." It looked as if Beth was more in need of excitement than he'd thought. And he was sure Lestrade had been deliberately avoiding Baker Street since the wedding – perhaps he ought to call round in the next few days, exchange compliments of the season...

Beth grinned, nodding happily.

Watson echoed Holmes's head shake—that girl was probably every bit Holmes's equal in her tendency towards trouble. Heaven knew how long 221B and Mrs. Hudson's patience would hold up under the strain! "Does anyone see a tree they like?"

"Ohh, can we get this one?" Sally pointed excitedly at the tree that had caught her eye – and no wonder, now she looked at it again, it was twice as tall as her! It was lovely, though...

Beth stared at it; it was beautiful, but she wasn't sure it could even fit in the sitting room! "Wow..."

Watson gaped at the size of the tree, then looked to Holmes for help. He didn't want to be the one to say that it probably wouldn't fit!

Holmes blinked, then sighed inwardly at Watson's expression. "Sally... perhaps we should leave that one for someone with a wider staircase? Mrs. Hudson did ask us to have a mind for her wallpaper."

"...I suppose." Come on, don't pout, there's lots of other nice trees. Just be grateful you're getting one!

Dear heaven, that look... "Or... we could shorten it a trifle with the axe before bringing it in."

"That's true," said Beth.

Watson nodded slowly, thinking it over. "It would be a bit of extra work, but it is doable." He certainly couldn't bear that crestfallen look Sally had just given them.

Sally nodded, smiling gratefully at the other three. "We'd better take the pictures off the walls before we start moving it upstairs, though."

Beth nodded, eyes wide at the thought. "Yes, definitely."

Watson squeezed Sally's arm again. "Let's see about buying it before someone else snaps it up."

"Ooh, that's a point: how are we getting it home?" The Green Giant suddenly looked a lot heavier than it had a minute ago.

"Taken care of." Holmes pointed across the marketplace. "Those men with the hand carts over there, we can pay one of them to help us transport it."

"Oh, thank God."

Outside 221B, Watson eyed their acquisition as it rested against the doorstep. "Shall we trim it outside? The less needles that fall on the floor, the better." It wasn't as if vacuum cleaners had been invented yet—yet another future comfort he was sure they'd all miss.

"I'll get the axe." Holmes let himself in and went out to the kitchen, locating the small chopper Mrs. Hudson used to split kindling for the range. The landlady poked her head over the bannisters just as he came back down the hall, and he hastily concealed the axe behind his back.

"Oh, Mr. Holmes, I thought I heard the door! The tub of earth is ready when you are."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," the detective smiled, "we'll be in directly."

The woman's eyes narrowed for a moment – had she noticed he was hiding something? But it was Christmas, after all, and secrets were a matter of course. "Did you find a nice tree at the market?"

"Er, yes..." Holmes turned to go back out, calling carelessly over his shoulder: "And don't worry, we'll put all the pictures back when we've finished."

Mrs. Hudson was about to reply, then her eyes went wide – but Holmes was already closing the door behind him.

"Ah, good," Watson said as Holmes emerged with the tool. "Now... how to do this..."

"Yeah, without messing it up," Beth winced.

Holmes looked the tree over critically. "Just a foot or so off the bottom should do it, I think."

"I'm just wondering," Sally ventured, "what if we wrapped up the lower branches?" That should make it at least a little easier to maneuver up the stairs! "Think Mrs. Hudson could spare a couple of towels?"

"I can go get them," Beth offered, glad to do something to help. She hurried inside, paused, and hastily wiped her boots, grimacing as she noticed that Sherlock had not wiped his. On the landing above, their landlady was taking pictures down. "Hello, Mrs. Hudson!"

Mrs. Hudson looked down, noting that Beth's face was flushed from the cold. "Oh, hello, dear." The foursome would have to be warmed up once they came in; no one had caught cold yet this season, and it would be a terrible thing if they started to now! "Could you get that one down for me?" She pointed to a picture that was slightly out of her reach.

"Oh, sure." Beth hurried up the stairs and took the picture down, handing it to the landlady, and then hurried back down, headed for... what was it called again? The linen closet? No, 'closet's' American; it's 'cupboard' here.

Having put the last pictures in a box, Mrs. Hudson carried them downstairs and halted at the sight of Beth raiding the linen cupboard. "What on earth...?"

"Ah, just making sure we get the tree up with no problems!"

Mrs. Hudson's face cleared. "One moment." She went to her sewing box in the kitchen and returned with a handful of safety pins. "The oldest towels, if you please—they're on the top shelf."

Beth saluted her with a smile. "Yes, ma'am." She pulled down the more threadbare towels and took the safety pins. "Thank you!" She rushed back outside, calling, "I got the towels!"

Shaking her head, Mrs. Hudson returned to the kitchen. "It was mad enough around here with two bachelors..." But she was smiling. She couldn't argue with the light the three girls had brought into her house.

Outside, Sherlock and Sally were holding the tree steady while John trimmed away some of the lower branches to get to the trunk. "How's it coming?" Beth asked.

Sally sighed. "I'm regretting teaching these two 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' – Sherlock always wins!"

Holmes looked faintly smug. "I did offer to toss a coin."

"What to do with these two," Watson muttered as he continued to trim.

Beth giggled and shook her head—poor John!

"Do hurry up, Watson!" Holmes shifted from foot to foot; he'd have worn a thicker coat if he'd known he was going to be standing around in the snow like this.

Sally gave him a pointed look, flexing her fingers inside her gloves. "Well, if you'd like to take a turn with the axe?"

Watson brightened, thankful that he now had Sally in his corner when Holmes was difficult—and even Beth, if that smile she was trying to bite down was any indication. "Excellent idea!"

Well, she did have a point... Holmes changed places with Watson and started chopping through the trunk, then winced at an explosive "Good heavens!" behind him. Mrs. Hudson had poked her head out of the door, staring at the tree in disbelief.

Inwardly groaning, Watson forced a bright smile. "Hello, Mrs. Hudson!"

"Which of you two madcaps picked out that behemoth?"

Beth opened her mouth and closed it, unsure of what to say—she couldn't just throw Sally under the bus like that!

Sally gave the landlady a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Mrs. Hudson. It's been ages..."

Mrs. Hudson sighed, then relented – at least the tree would be slightly smaller when they brought it in. "Well, I suppose Mr. Holmes can receive his next few clients in the hallway."

Watson almost laughed out loud. "Now, Mrs. Hudson, I'm sure we don't have to be that drastic…"

"It'll fit, Mrs. Hudson, never fear!" Holmes laughed, delivering the last blows to the trunk. "We can shorten the back branches if need be." He trimmed a few more of the lower branches to give it room for planting. "There we are."

Well, the tree looked neater than Beth had feared it might—the menfolk had done a good job. "It's going to be gorgeous!"

Sally nodded, beaming. "Right, let's see if we can get this thing wrapped."

"Yeah, here." Beth handed Sally a towel and moved toward the tree with the other, still wondering how they were going to go about this...

Mrs. Hudson cleared her throat. "Ah, perhaps if you were to lay it down?"

Sally exchanged a look with Beth. "That could work, roll it up like a carpet."

"Right, yeah." Beth laid her towel on the ground, wincing slightly—she was definitely glad they were using old towels.

"Maybe..." Sally laid her towel down end to end with the other and pinned the two together. "Now, if you two give us a hand..."

Holmes and Watson pitched in and helped to roll the tree, managing to bend most of the lower branches up and capture them. "Thank God this one's fresh cut," Holmes grunted, leaning on it with all his weight. A drier tree's branches wouldn't have been nearly as flexible.

Sally shot him an apologetic look, she and Beth pinning the loose end of the towel wrapper as quickly as chilled fingers would allow. For someone who wasn't all that big on Christmas, Sherlock was being awfully sweet about the whole thing – though she suspected it was more for Beth's benefit than hers.

"Are we good?" Watson grunted.

Beth quickly checked their work. "I think so, yeah."

The men slowly eased their weight off, letting the towels and pins take the strain—and they held beautifully. Sally and Beth high-fived, grinning.

Mrs. Hudson smiled approvingly as the four raised the tree back up and brushed the snow off. "I don't suppose anyone would be interested in some hot cocoa once they're finished?"

Beth had to keep herself from bouncing. "Yes, please!"

"That would be lovely," Watson said gratefully. Thank goodness his old war wounds were no longer around to pain him during times like these; nevertheless, it was cold out here!

"Thanks, Mrs. Hudson," Sally said. "How's Kathy doing?" Leaving her daughter at home had only been slightly less of a wrench than last time, but she was determined to learn.

"Just waking up, she's had a lovely long nap."

Sally nodded, sighing inwardly – duty called. "She probably needs feeding, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"I'll join you," Watson said softly.

Beth gave Sally a sympathetic look, then turned back to the tree. Now came the really hard part. "Well, I guess it's time to get this thing inside."

With Holmes and Watson going first, hauling the heavier bottom end, the four managed to get the tree in the front door and as far as the halfway landing without too much trouble. Negotiating the turn was rather more difficult, especially since one of the lower branches had escaped its wrapping, which kept snagging on the bannisters and threatening to push Holmes off balance.

Beth grimaced. "Careful!" she called, unable to do anything else with her hands full.

"Come on, Green Giant, nearly there," Sally said to the tree without thinking, then blushed as John chuckled.

At last, the tree was on the landing. "We did it!" Beth cheered.

Holmes straightened with a groan, rubbing his lower back. "I'm rapidly growing in favour of artificial trees."

Watson began to stretch as he straightened, more slowly and carefully than Holmes had, and nodded in agreement, groaning softly. He hadn't gotten such a workout since Frozen Time!

Beth laughed sympathetically and moved forward to put her arms around Sherlock, gently rubbing his back for him. "No, you aren't—real trees are so much better."

Holmes smiled at her touch, humming softly. That did feel very nice...

Sally gave John a hug, kissing his cheek. "Well, we'll definitely have to get a small one next year – Kathy'll be crawling by then."

Watson returned the hug, smiling. "True."

"I was going to suggest," Beth grinned, "we hoist it upstairs next Christmas with pulleys."

Her husband laughed, then looked at the Green Giant reluctantly. "Well, we can't leave that on the landing."

Beth eyed the tree. "Right... Sally, come on, let's lug it in."

Watson's eyes went wide. "What?!" He knew that Beth and Sally were no weaklings, but even so, the tree was huge and heavy!

"Yeah, we can do it," Beth insisted. "Come on, Sal, let's give them a break."

Although a bit wide-eyed, Sally nodded, grinning. "Sure, why not?" All that time carrying Kathy around had to be good for something. Between them, they managed to lift the tree's base and drag it into the sitting room, the towels helping it slide along the carpet without losing many needles. Mrs. Hudson's largest washtub stood waiting in front of the bow window, full of earth and stones with a hole dug in the middle.

Beth giggled breathlessly; her muscles hadn't had a workout like this in a while. "Zed, this is sooo heavy!"

Their husbands came forward to help raise the tree, eventually managing to coax the base into the hole and lever the trunk fully upright. "Right," said Watson, "pack that in, you two. Let's hope we put in enough rocks..."

The girls shored up the trunk, and the men gingerly let go of the tree... which remained mostly upright, though leaning a tiny bit to the left. The girls cheered, Beth bouncing and clapping her hands.

Watson laughed in relief. "It's perfect."

Holmes stepped back, inspecting their handiwork critically. "Mm, it's still a bit lopsided."

"Sherlock..." Sally groaned. "Seriously, let's quit while we're ahead!" She wasn't about to jinx their good luck by messing with something that didn't need fixing.

Mrs. Hudson came in with a jug while they were unpinning the towels. "Oh my, doesn't that look lovely!"

"Doesn't it?!" Beth all but squealed, too excited to feel embarrassed about it.

"And we haven't even decorated it yet!" Sally laughed.

Sherlock put his arm around Beth's shoulders, looking up at the tree with unexpected satisfaction. "Not a bad afternoon's work."

Beth smiled up at him, basking in the simple happiness of the moment.

Mrs. Hudson also smiled. "Well done, all of you. Now, while I'm giving it a drink, there are more well-deserved drinks down in the kitchen."

"And I'd better give Kathy one, too," Sally sighed, returning to earth. "Coming, John?"

Watson nodded, following her out. "Yes, ma'am."

While Sally was busy with Kathy, Sherlock and Beth decided to retrieve the decorations from the attic to give mother and child some privacy. "So where are the decorations going to be?" Beth asked as she hurried up the stairs to the third floor.

Holmes followed a little more slowly, carrying the infamous stepladder. "I think I put them somewhere to the right last time. It's quite a large basket, though – safer to climb in and lower it. "

She nodded. "That's what I figured."

Holmes set up the ladder under the hatch, frowning at it warningly, daring it to misbehave. He should have thought to hide the wretched thing while fetching the axe.

Beth eyed the ladder suspiciously, but grabbed hold anyway. "Welp, here goes nothing." She set one foot on the first rung, testing it, then raised her other foot to it: so far, so good. She raised her right foot, and winced as she felt a slight give in the second rung.

Holmes's frown deepened at the ominous creaking. "Careful."

"Yeah, being careful. Thanks." She raised her left foot to the third rung, pulled herself up, and reached for the attic hatch, unlatching it. Almost losing her balance, she quickly grabbed the ladder again with both hands and hoisted herself up to the fourth rung... which promptly gave way beneath her.

"Beth!"

Before she could fall, she grabbed at the hatch and ended up dangling from it and holding on with both hands. "Zed!" she cried breathlessly, her heart practically beating in her throat. "Sherlock, boost, please!"

He swept the ladder aside and took her ankles, guiding her feet. "Stand on my shoulders."

She settled gingerly. "Thanks." She pulled herself up and over the hatch and stood slowly, looking around her. The crowded attic was probably a history buff's fondest dream. "Whoa, it is cool up here, and I don't just mean temperature!"

"Mrs. Hudson rarely throws anything out," Holmes answered, dry tone concealing his relief.

"With good reason, I might add!" came Mrs. Hudson's tart reply from below. The landlady came up the last flight, eyes wide as she took in the broken ladder and Holmes standing alone under the hatch. "Oh my goodness... Elizabeth, is that you up there?"

Beth knelt to look over the hatch, grinning. "Ahoy below!"

Whatever relief Mrs. Hudson felt was well hidden beneath a deep frown. "Mr. Holmes, you might have told me the ladder needed repair!"

"If you'll recall, Mrs. Hudson," Holmes replied, a touch acidly, his own pulse still not entirely steady, "I informed you of the fact around this time last year." In rather colourful language, if memory served.

Beth sighed and moved off to find the right container. There were a couple of hampers nearby, and she had the right one in half a minute. "Ah-ha!" She pulled it over to the hatch and leaned back over the edge. "Found it!"

"Look inside," Holmes called up, "you'll find the rope we used last time."

"Okay. Yeah, got it." Beth tied up the hamper, called "Coming down!" and lowered it.

"Do you need a hand down?" Holmes asked, he and Mrs. Hudson taking an end each and setting the basket out of the way.

"Um…" She judged the distance and decided that it could hurt if she tried to jump down... and she could break the floor. "Yeaaaah, that would be nice. Is there, like, anything else I can stand on to close the hatch?"

He beckoned invitingly, smiling. "I'm sure I can manage."

Her eyes widened—I'm not sure about this. "Okay. Coming down, then." She maneuvered herself over and down.

Holmes braced himself and guided her feet back to his shoulders, holding her legs, trying to ignore Mrs. Hudson audibly holding her breath behind him. "All right?"

"I… think?" It was actually downright terrifying, perching so precariously on his shoulders, but she wasn't about to tell him that. She reached carefully for the hatch and tried to pull it up—but going wide over empty air, she lost her balance, dropping the door and flailing in panic. "Sherlock!"

He let go of her right leg at once, reaching up to take her hand. "Steady now..." Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea! Shaking, she took his hand in a death grip, regaining her balance as she almost knelt on his shoulders.

Mrs. Hudson hurried in front of Holmes, reaching up herself to help steady Beth. "Oh, my dear, do come down! Never mind about the trapdoor, we'll deal with that later."

"Quite right," Holmes said, a little too cheerfully, and slowly dropped to one knee.

Her face reddening, Beth carefully dismounted from Sherlock's shoulders, feeling like a kid again, caught in doing something stupid. "Sorry," she mumbled.

He stood up and hugged her, then both were startled next moment by their landlady giving Holmes a sharp clip around the back of the head. "What...?"

"And I thought that you and the doctor had plumbed the depths of tomfoolery between you!" Mrs. Hudson turned to Beth, severe expression softening. "Are you all right, dear?"

"I'm fine," Beth said slowly, feeling massively uncomfortable. "Mrs. Hudson, it was my idea, and believe me, I would have gone up with or without Sherlock's help." She had been pulling dumb stunts long before she'd ever met Sherlock...

Mrs. Hudson sighed deeply, then gave Holmes, much to his surprise, a distinctly sheepish look. "My apologies, Mr. Holmes. I expect you did tell me about the ladder, although I confess I simply cannot recall..." Her voice trailed off, shaking her head at herself.

Beth glanced between Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock, and forced herself to brighten to lighten the mood. "Okay, I don't know about you two, but I desperately need some hot chocolate right about now." She set off down the stairs, calling, "Come on, Sherlock, last one down's a rotten egg!"

"Coming!" Holmes smiled at Mrs. Hudson on his way past to show her there were no hard feelings – after all, he'd done plenty of idiotic things in the past that he hadn't received any kind of retribution for!

It was just a little too warm in the kitchen right now, and since Sherlock and Beth were busy, Sally decided she could risk leaving off the shawl while feeding Kathy. She smiled down at her daughter, snuggled up in her arms in Mrs. Hudson's rocking chair and clearly making up for lost time. Ow. Her smile became pained. Gently, honey. The pressure eased slightly. Sally put any wistful thoughts about infant formula firmly out of her mind, picturing the Christmas tree in the sitting room for Kathy instead, their adventure in getting the Green Giant upstairs. And just you wait till we decorate it, it's going to be so beautiful...

Watson watched in fascination: he'd seen mothers breastfeeding as part of his profession, of course, but this... This was always a special moment to him; mother and baby looked so contented together. To call the moment "heartwarming" would have been an understatement.

"Hm?" Sally looked up questioningly, starting to feel self-conscious under her husband's unwavering gaze.

He smiled tenderly back and murmured, "You look just like a mother cat nursing her kitten."

She had to laugh. "Now that's one I've never heard before."

He was aware of how silly it sounded, but it was the impression he'd had nonetheless. "I should hope not," he teased.

Sally scrunched up her face and gave him an irritated 'meow', then grinned, shaking her head. "Twit." Oh, you love it, admit it...

Watson chuckled, though his expression sobered slightly as he looked back down at Kathy. How many lives did she have? The Doctor never specified how many he had. And between healing himself and Holmes, and healing herself a hundred years in her timeline, how many lives would she have left?

"John?" She knew that look... and recent experience had taught her not to let her husband sit for too long in thought – at least, not without a notebook.

"Mm, just thinking..." He hesitated to talk about Kathy's future in front of her, even as a baby—the little one was much too smart, and there was no telling what she might pick up. Casting his mind about for something else, his smile widened again. "Remembering the first time I saw you two together." In the doorway of Rosewood Hall, and not knowing just yet—though he might have hazarded a guess by the shape of the bundle and the way Sally was carrying it!—that he was a father again.

Sally smiled back, though she knew perfectly well he wasn't giving her a straight answer, then sobered as she remembered, too: not knowing whether to laugh or cry as her husband climbed out of the carriage, so thin and worn, almost a shadow of himself... "I wish you could have known about Kathy sooner..." It had taken so long to get John back, she'd even worried over whether he would believe the baby was his!

He reached out to touch her cheek, fighting a sudden lump in his throat. "To be honest, love," he murmured, "...I can't help feeling thankful that I didn't know." Though he understood how Sally felt, worrying about everyone else had been torture enough. Knowing he was to be a father, however, and unable to protect his pregnant wife and unborn child... that would have been horribly bittersweet in a way that would have quickly turned to agony.

"No, no, I understand." Softly, "It was just... hard. Finding out after we'd already been separated and then..." Sally stopped, turning pink as she realised how she sounded – as if poor John wasn't feeling guilty enough already!

He nodded solemnly, looking down at her with the deepest respect and sympathy—he could well imagine how scared she must have been. "And after waiting all that time for me in the future..." Poor Sally. He brushed his fingers up and down her cheek, silently promising her that he wouldn't ever let that happen again. From now on, he would be there for his family whenever they needed him.

She had to close her eyes at the look on his face, leaning into his touch. Hey, come on, don't lose it now, Kathy's still feeding. "Waiting seems to be a thing in this family..."

He hummed ruefully in agreement, but he couldn't help smiling. Our family together like this is worth the wait. A minute later, the rest of the family came into the kitchen, Beth bounding ahead of Sherlock and teasing him about being a rotten egg while Mrs. Hudson began to pass out the hot chocolate.

Yes, this was a family worth waiting for.

Ria: I'm with the girls, real Christmas trees are so much better. But with two dogs plus a four year old at my place... yeah, maybe next year.

Speaking of Christmas trees... we're both super excited about next chapter: our first Victorian non-canon case! *bounces* Stay tuned!