'Build a fire to escape the cold;
Bing Crosby on the stereo.
Tracing letters on my skin,
Slowly starts sinkin' in,
You love me.'

- Winter Dream - Kelly Clarkson

"Molly, my dear, it's so good to see you!" Mrs. Holmes exclaimed, hugging her. "However did you get both of my boys to visit?"

"Cleverness," Sherlock answered. "She's cleverer than either of us."

"I could've told you that, William," Mrs. Holmes teased. "Mikey! So happy you brought Anthea with you!"

"As you requested," he sighed. All the women shot him a look that could kill. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You two are in for it now," Mr. Holmes chuckled.

"Nope, only Mycroft," Sherlock replied. "I'm actually happy to be here." Everyone stared at him, shocked at his words. "Truly, I am."

"What's gotten into you?" his mother asked. "Not that I'm not happy you feel this way, but what changed?"

"After everything this year threw at us; Mary nearly sacrificing herself for me, Sherrinford, my recovered memories and, of course, allowing myself to completely fall in love with Molly, I've realized that love, sentiment and family are the most important things in my life," Sherlock explained.

Molly fought hard to keep from sobbing right there in his parents' sitting room, throwing a hand over her mouth. As she looked around, she realized everyone seemed to be a bit of an emotional mess, including Mycroft. Sherlock looked to Molly, noting all of their reactions.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she laughed through her building tears. Regardless of her son's reactions from before, Mrs. Holmes still opted to throw her arms around him, surprised that he returned her hug with sincerity.

"If you could all just cheer up a bit," he remarked, remembering how it seemed to work at John and Mary's wedding. And it worked again. Everyone was laughing and began to move on from the sweet moment.

As Bing Crosby sounded from the record player, everyone pitched in to decorate the tree. All except for Mycroft, who seemed to be out of his comfort zone. He wasn't even in the room with them.

"Where's Mycroft?" Molly asked.

"I think he went outside for a bit," Anthea replied.

"He better not be smoking," Mrs. Holmes added. At that, Sherlock and Molly both gave each other a knowing look.

"I'll be right back," Molly whispered to Sherlock before giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. When she ventured outside, Mycroft jumped and hid his cigarette as best he could. "Don't worry, it's just me."

"Oh, Miss Hooper," he sighed with relief. "Forgive my absence. It's all a bit overwhelming."

"That's understandable. You're not used to your family being so close again," she replied.

"It's been a long time since we've been this way," Mycroft told her. "The last time there was true happiness in our household was before Eurus began showing symptoms of psychosis."

"Do you think there's a chance that she could ever get better?" Molly asked.

"After all these years of attempting to get her treated properly, only for it to become worse…I don't think she ever will," he answered. "And sometimes, I find myself feeling guilty—not just because I lied to our parents and Sherlock—but because I often think of you as the sister I never had." Being surprised by a Holmes brother for the second time tonight, Molly was speechless. She had no idea that Mycroft was so fond of her.

"You can have more than one sister, you know," she teased, hoping to lighten the mood. It must have worked a bit, because a ghost of smile settled over him. "May I just add that maybe you're feeling guilty for thinking that because you know the psychosis isn't her fault. She can't control it and it's hard for a family to go through, but there's nothing wrong with wishing her to be more well off than she is."

"You have the wisdom of a thousand lives, Miss Hooper," Mycroft told her, putting out his cigarette. "And may I just say that I secretly hoped all these years that my brother would allow you into his heart. You're good for him and I can see, despite most people's thoughts, that he's good for you too."

"Thank you for saying that," Molly smiled. "So, why don't you have one of my biscuits and help us finish this tree, yeah?"

"I'd be delighted," he replied, showing her a true smile.

After the tree was decorated, and Sherlock and Molly successfully sprinkled tinsel in each other's hair in a fit of laughter, Mycroft actually seemed to be relaxed for once. When Frank Sinatra's voice began singing, Sherlock pulled Molly in his arms for a dance. Mycroft saw Molly nod toward Anthea in encouragement. He got the cue and asked her to dance, to which she happily obliged.

"You must have magic," Sherlock told her.

"Magic is illogical," Molly mimicked him as best she could. Sherlock cut her off with a tender kiss.

"I'm starting to realize that I don't quite know everything," he smiled. "You, Molly Hooper, are magical."

It wasn't long before it was midnight, making it officially Christmas. They were all enjoying their holiday drinks, talking about everything and nothing. Molly felt like she had a family again and it was looking to be the best Christmas she's had since before her parents passed.

"Darling, why don't you get the, um, gift,"Mr. Holmes suggested to his wife in a whisper. She did just that and came back, slipping the little velvet box to Sherlock whilst Molly was conversing with Anthea.

"This was a tradition of ours when the boys were growing up, and we haven't done it since, but I think we should jumpstart it again," Mrs. Holmes announced. "At midnight, one person was able to open one of their gifts. This year, we think it best for it to be Molly."

"What?" she asked, glancing at Sherlock. "I think you're mistaken, he and I agreed no gifts this year."

"Well, actually…" he began. "We agreed to not buy gifts. You never said I couldn't give you one." Molly opened her mouth and closed it again in surprise. "And really, this is more of a gift for the both of us, should you choose to accept it." Her eyes began welling up with tears when Sherlock knelt down on both knees in front of her. "Molly Hooper, I don't know what I've done to deserve the love of such an amazing woman, but I would want nothing more than to be your husband. You have saved me with your constant love and warmth and stood by me in the most trying of times. I only wish to lavish you with love for the rest of my life. Will you marry me, darling?"

"Yes," she choked out, going down on both of her knees with him. Her arms were thrown around his neck as she snogged him without a care in the world. Mrs. Holmes dabbed at her eyes with Mycroft's handkerchief.

"Haven't even gotten the box open," Sherlock chuckled. Molly laughed with him. He opened it to reveal a beautiful vintage opal engagement ring with floral leaf accents embedded with tiny sparkling diamonds set in a white gold band. The opal was very reminiscent of Sherlock's cerulean eyes.

"It's beautiful," was all she managed to say when Sherlock slipped it on her finger and kissed it. He had gotten it resized for her smaller finger.

"It was my grandmother's," he told her.

"I love it, and I love you," she cried. And then he gave her that beautiful smile she loved so much, when it hit her. Sherlock Holmes wanted her to be his wife. She was going to marry the love of her life. Of course she knew he loved her, but she didn't ever think he would go this far. "It's more than enough that because of you I have a family again, and now this, I just—"

"William, I think Molly's a bit overwhelmed," Mrs. Holmes told him. "Maybe you two should take a walk." He nodded in agreement, taking Molly's hand in his. They bundled up before heading outside. The snow crunched beneath their feet and the crisp, cold air helped calm her down. Their gloved hands were laced together and Sherlock gave hers an affectionate squeeze.

"So, that's why you went to see Mycroft," she realized.

"I told you it was for a good reason," he teased.

"I love you," she smiled, her eyes lit up.

"I know," he whispered. "I love you too."

"Are you going to visit Eurus?" Molly asked.

"I was going to wait until after the holiday," he explained. "Why?"

"Well, I kinda got her something," she told him. "And I know you don't want us in the same room together because you're afraid of what might happen, but Sherlock, I want to see her. She is going to be my sister, after all."

"Okay," he replied, no arguments.

"What?" she asked, surprised that he had agreed.

"I said okay." They stopped walking and he was holding both of her hands in his. "I can't keep you from her forever. And, honestly, the doctors have said that having her family around more often would help rather than hinder her condition. Besides, you would have probably found your own way there with sweet confections as bribes for Mycroft."

"Shut up, you," she laughed. "You're probably right."

"Mm, I'm always right," he smirked, kissing the tip of her nose that was now a bit too cold.

"I'm always right," she mimicked, teasing him.

"And they said I acted like a child," he chuckled, continuing to walk back toward the house. Molly stopped abruptly and scooped up some snow in her hands, forming it into a tightly packed ball and threw it at the back of his head. The look on his face elicited a giggle snort combination from her. "Molly, Molly, Molly, what am I going to do with you?"

"Marry me," she told him, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Sherlock scooped up some snow and packed it as he chased her through the yard. He had to admit, for a petite woman, she could run quite fast.

"Edmund, come look at this," Mrs. Holmes told her husband. He stood beside her, looking out the window at the sight of Sherlock and Molly throwing snowballs at each other. At one point she had slid on a hidden patch of ice, but he caught her just in time.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked her, his voice so gentle and warm, she could melt.

"I am," she replied, smiling. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and helped her up, calling it a draw.

"Let's get you warmed up," he suggested. His parents scrambled and settled themselves in the kitchen as if nothing had happened. They should know better though. "Don't think I didn't see you two spying on us."

"Nothing gets past you, son," Mr. Holmes chuckled.

Author's Note: Yes, there will be a Eurus visit next chapter! I know some people don't like her one bit, but I honestly feel sorry for her despite all the bad she's done, only because psychosis is not something that can be cured. It was obvious she was born with it and it kinda breaks my heart.