So carrying on the Christmas theme I've headed out to the Winchester Christmas markets and it reminded me that this time last year I saw glimpses of Benedict, in real life, as he filmed Richard III for the Hollow Crown series in Winchester. Now that was a brilliant Christmas present I can tell you! I don't think I'll be that lucky again anytime soon.

A Three Fag Problem

John told him everything. The girls plans to make him fall in love with Molly, her despair at ever being successful and finally her plans to leave London after Christmas. When John had finished he waited for some sort of response from Sherlock but Sherlock had refused to give him one.

'But you must have some thoughts on the subject.'

'Why? Because you've decreed I should. Did you honestly think you could all plot and scheme like this and I wouldn't figure it out? Do you know me at all?' Sherlock knew he was getting angry but he wasn't quite sure why.

'Listen, it's just a bit of fun. It's not like they can really manipulate you into falling in love is it. Just, do me a favour mate, don't let on that you know. Mary'll kill me if she finds out I blabbed.'

He stood up and grabbed his coat but turned before he left the flat, 'and be nice... Let Molly down gently, she's always been a good friend to you so be a friend to her for once in your life.' He paused and then nodded to himself before turning and leaving.

Sherlock didn't make any gesture or sign that he'd heard John but his head was filled with all the information that John had given him. He would have been able to just brush it off but for one thing; Molly leaving.

As soon as John had mentioned it Sherlock had felt a shard of worry slice through him. He knew in that moment that she'd do it, he'd seen the signs. He'd known that something was up for a while now and this piece of information was like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle and now he could see the whole picture.

She'd have no problem picking up another job. Her credentials were second to none and other pathology units would be only too happy to take her on, probably at a higher grade and pay. She'd only stayed so long at Barts because of him; he knew that, he'd always known that.

And with a new job and living outside of London she be able to afford a bigger place, a house with a garden. Why should she stay?

Why?

Because I want her to!

That was all he could think. It spun around and around in his head. The question was could he give her what she wanted. Could he... Would he ever fall in love with Molly Hooper? Did he even want to? He felt angry and confused as though he were being backed into a corner that he didn't want to be in. He just wanted everything to stay the same; for Molly to just be at Barts as she always had been.

He stood up and paced around the front room desperately looking for some kind of resolution but he couldn't find one. In frustration he picked up a coffee cup from earlier in the day and launched it at the smiley face on the wall where it smashed into a hundred pieces.

Eventually he grabbed his coat and left the flat, glad as ever that in London there was always somewhere to walk to even at two in the morning.

It was bitterly cold outside and the frost on the pavement made walking treacherous. Sherlock stuck to the side of the roads which were clearer, his hands jammed into his pockets and a scowl on his face. He knew what he truly wanted but in the end he settled for the slightly less addictive and almost healthier cigarettes.

He walked up to Regents Park, avoiding the areas renowned for cottaging and other such sordid hook ups. He walked on through the gathering fog knowing he was one of the few people not afraid to be out walking alone in London at night...God help any uneducated mugger trying his luck with a pissed off Sherlock Holmes.

Finally he found a bench at the edge of the lake and sat down before he lit his first cigarette; enjoying the buzz the first inhale gave him, feeling the nicotine hitting his brain and soothing his battered spirit. He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension and that's when, unbidden, the image of Molly kneeling on the floor in front of him came back to him.

This time instead of pushing it out of his mind he let himself dwell on it. He imagined her leaning forward and unzipping his trousers releasing his already hard erection from its prison. In his mind he saw her lick her lips, entranced by her pink tongue slowly reaching out and twirling around the head of his cock.

He groaned aloud and opened his eyes, coming back to reality with a rush and realising he was just as hard in real life as he had been in his imagination. Well at least he knew now that she could sexually excite him...he also knew that they already had many common interests and got on well together but love? He didn't even know if he was capable of such a thing.

He flicked the stub of the cigarette towards a nearby bin and lit a second. This was a three cigarette problem. It was also bloody cold and sitting on a bench wasn't doing his core temperature any favours.

He stood back up and started to make his way back to Baker St already eager for the warmth it offered him. It was when he was half way back that he realised maybe he didn't need to know whether he could love Molly, maybe all he needed to do was be open to the idea of it. After all how many people embarked on a relationship already in love. All you needed was sexual attraction and mutual interest, sometimes not even that. Maybe he should just let Molly and Mary carry out their plan and he should just see where it took them both.

He finished the third cigarette just as he reached home, glad to be back both in London and in Baker St. The cold reminded him too much of the many nights he spent sleeping rough outdoors in his pursuit of disbanding Moriarty's network. Molly had gone out on a limb for him then, had risked everything, her job, her reputation. The least he could do would be to go out on an emotional limb for her in return.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Friday brought a text from Mary.

John's just heard from Sherlock. He's going to tonight's do. The game is on! Are you going with the green top? Mary x

Molly felt a sudden rush of nerves as she read it. It was almost like being a teenager and being set up in a blind date by your mate.

Once again she took her time getting ready, this time leaving her hair down but curled slightly so it hung in soft waves round her face. She couldn't resist wearing some Christmas earrings though she decided against the Kiss Me Santa hat that was sitting on her dressing table. She wasn't quite brave enough for that.

Eight o'clock found her pushing her way into the overcrowded pub and looking out for anyone that she might know. She hated turning up to these things alone.

'Molly...Molly, over here!'

She turned towards Greg's voice before seeing him waving to her from a couple of tables in a raised up section of the pub. It looked as though they had taken over that bit for their party and it was filled with mostly familiar faces.

She made her way over enjoying the sound of Slade singing their familiar Christmas hit over the speaker system. She could see a couple of drunken businessmen at the bar singing along enthusiastically if not tunefully.

'Merry Christmas Molly,' said Greg kissing her on the cheek as she arrived. 'Perfect timing John and Sherlock are at the bar. What do you want?'

'Oh,' Molly knew she was blushing as she glanced around to see Sherlock's familiar profile glaring disdainfully at some of his fellow patrons, 'umm white wine and soda please.'

'OK, you sit yourself down and I'll go and add your order in and help them carry the drinks back.'

He set off towards the bar and Molly joined Anderson, Donovan and another Inspector called Gregson at the slightly emptier table. A couple of others that she recognised waved to her from the other table including Mike Stamford, it looked like it was a good turnout.

For once Sally Donovan was looking fairly happy. Like Molly she was equally dressed up and had both tinsel wrapped around her neck and a jaunty faux fur Santa Hat on her head. 'Merry Christmas Molly, glad you're here. The females in the group are thin on the ground, though Anderson here counts given he's got no balls.' She laughed at her own joke and ignored his angry retort. Molly assumed their on/off affair was currently in the off position and made a promise to herself to not get dragged into any tit for tat insults.

Just then Sherlock and John appeared bearing multiple drinks and Molly found herself sitting on the wall seat between Sally and Sherlock. John sat on the stool next to Sherlock but Greg had to drag an extra stool over and sat with John on one side and Anderson on the other; the latter still scowling at Sally who was now openly flirting with Gregson who was sat on her left.

Sherlock pushed Molly's white wine towards her before raising his pint, 'Cheers Molly.'

She picked up her glass and took a sip as she raised an eyebrow before responding with 'Merry Christmas Sherlock'. She giggled at his look of disgruntlement over the festivities. 'Not enjoying Christmas then Mr Humbug?' She asked him as she suddenly started to realise how close he was. There was a little room still left on the seat but even so the full length of his thigh, in jeans no less, was up against hers. She found her eyes gravitating down to stare at the buttons straining to hold her favourite purple shirt together across his chest. Was he purposefully trying to turn her on with his outfit because if so it was definitely working.

Because of the noise levels in the pub he leant in and spoke into her ear, 'not much. How long do I have to stay in this hideous place before I can politely excuse myself?'

Molly rolled her eyes whilst smiling, 'you're supposed to be enjoying yourself. It's a Christmas party.'

'It's not really my scene, or yours either.' He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side as he looked at her, 'you'd rather be at home in your favourite comfy pyjamas reading a book. Am I right?'

Molly blushed, was she that easy to read, 'well maybe a little bit but staying in every night isn't good for me, or for you either.'

'There's nothing wrong with following your passions Molly, wherever they might lead you. No need to conform to societal norms.' He seemed to have a strange look in his eye as he said this but Molly couldn't quite figure it out.

'I know, but we all have to make concessions for other people. After all aren't you here to please John?'

Sherlock's eyes flicked to his blogger who was deep in conversation with Lestrade and Anderson. 'He did have some quite compelling arguments for me attending...anyway now I've got you more or less alone I wanted to ask about your latest paper on cell decomposition. I have to say I disagreed with your conclusion...talk me through the tests you'd done.'

He loved the way her confidence came out in force as she argued her point, going straight into the intricate details of her samples and conclusions. He hadn't disagreed with anything she'd written at all but just wanted an excuse to start a more interesting discussion than one centred on Christmas. He also needed a mental distraction from where it was currently heading which was into Molly's bedroom and stripping her out of that green top that she was wearing so well.

The change of subject worked (at least as far as talk of Christmas went) and they spent the next hour deep in discussion only being interrupted by the arrival of more drinks.

I'll keep going with the regular updates, I need to make sure we get all the chapters in my Christmas Day so we might even move to daily updates at some point. Just feed my muse and tell me to keep going. Thank you x