Based on a variety of prompts that I asked for earlier this year. The Santa Claus Murders are mainly inspired by srhittson and Anasazi Darkmoon with contributions from a few guest reviewers. I have a soft spot for a Sherlolly Christmas fic so I hope you enjoy both Christmas (if you celebrate) and the Sherlolly goodness.

The reason I've posted it so early is that with about 14 or 15 chapters I need to get a shuffle on if we're to get it all up in time.

Chapter 1

It was shaping up to be one of the worst Christmases on records; maybe even on a par with the Big Freeze of '63 when parts of the sea around the U.K. coast had even frozen over.

Molly was struggling into work in moon boots and a coat which made her feel like she was a walking sleeping bag but if it kept her warm she didn't care how ridiculous she looked...and she did know she looked ridiculous.

As if to confirm her thoughts as she walked into work Sherlock saw her wearing it for the first time and he literally snorted with laughter. She'd been making her way to the lockers in the little room off from the lab where he was working when this happened and when she heard him she flattened her lips and slowly spun round to face him. His face was creased with laughter and he was even pointing at her.

'Molly, what the hell are you wearing? You look like a walking slug.'

She had already removed her mittens and stuck them in the pockets and she pulled her bobble hat off and unzipped the jacket.

'Alright Sherlock calm down, it's not that funny. It may have escaped your "cocooned in taxi cabs mind" but it's bloody freezing out there. They said on the radio it was minus ten this morning so I would rather be warm than stylish.'

'And you can't be both?'

'Not in my price bracket.'

She shrugged out of the coat feeling a little embarrassed to look so unattractive to the man she was still endlessly in love with. He just seemed to look as he always did, wearing a dark blue suit jacket and a light blue, fitted shirt. Did he make no concession to the weather?

She left her coat lying over one of the desks along with her scarf, the one her aunt Evie had knitted for her a couple of christmases ago, and she asked him about it as she walked closer.

'I might look the picture of sartorial elegance but I assure you Molly it's an illusion.' He stood up and she saw a pair of dark blue jeans and as she came around the bench she could see a pair of hiking boots on his feet.

'Plus I have had to resort to wearing thermals under my clothes and adding a thermal liner to my Belstaff; my gloves have a sheepskin interior...and my scarf is extra thick and extra warm. A present from a thoughtful friend last year.'

He gave her a sideways smile as he sat back down and she realised with a jolt that he meant the one that she'd bought him and she smiled in return. 'Oh, I didn't think you liked it.'

He tilted his head and grimaced just a little. 'Well, the colours might not be quite my normal style but it is very warm and as you say it is warmth that matters at the moment. Was it still snowing when you arrived?'

She nodded. 'Has it even stopped in the last week? You might actually have to give up on your taxis soon, they're saying that some streets in London are becoming impassable because of the drifts of snow. Is Baker St OK?'

He huffed. 'Only just...and that's only because I've been paying some of my homeless network to keep it clear. It's getting harder and harder though.'

Molly felt a sudden pang of worry. 'Oh God, how are they coping? They can't be sleeping on the streets in this weather.'

Sherlock sat back and shrugged. 'Some still are...against my better advice I might add. I'm helping where I can, financially, and Mycroft has secured those that want it places in a local shelter.'

Molly made a mental note to herself to give some money to one of the London homeless charities. She was a bit angry with herself that she hadn't even thought of those with no home to keep them warm.

She spent ten more minutes with Sherlock going over the tests he was carrying out. She'd given him a set of eyes two days earlier and it was those that he was working on now. His caseload had been quiet for the last couple of weeks, since the weather had really set in, and she knew he was bored and restless and she liked to try to keep him occupied.

She was just about to leave him when his phone rang.

'Could you pass me that Molly?'

She turned and frowned. 'Where is it?'

'In my coat.'

Molly leant against the desk and folded her arms. 'Seriously, it's right next to you. Do I look like your slave?'

Sherlock sat back smiling and reached for his phone. 'No, but I once got John to retrieve my phone from my jacket...when I was wearing it...Lestrade, what have you got for me?'

Molly couldn't help but laugh at the glee in Sherlock's voice when he'd told her that anecdote...poor John, Sherlock did run rings around him sometimes.

She picked up her coat and scarf and carried them through to the locker room with half an ear on Sherlock's conversation. Sounded like there might have been a murder overnight and whilst that was bad news for the victim it would be good for Sherlock to have something substantial to get his teeth into. She grinned to herself as she speculated that she'd be more than happy to be his distraction if he was ever up for that.

By the time she'd put her stuff away and made her way back into the lab Sherlock was pulling on his coat and shoving various things in his pockets.

'You off then?'

His eyes lit up as he looked at her. 'Yes, Lestrade has a murder. Santa has been killed in one of the department stores on Oxford Street.'

He started to make his way out and then he paused and turned back. 'Do you want to come with me? I could do with an assistant.'

Molly felt a little surprised but equally quite excited by the suggestion. 'Oh, umm...yes, I would. I mean I'd need to check with Mike though...'

He waved his hand dismissively. 'I'll do that, you grab your sleeping bag...sorry coat, and we can be off.' He smirked as he made his joke and she rolled her eyes.

'Yeah, yeah very funny.' She couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement though as she went to retrieve her things. It was rare that she got to see an actual crime scene...she normally just saw the body in her morgue.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Even though she'd just been out in it the cold took her breath away as they left the hospital. Sherlock was already looking out for a cab, his hand raised before he quickly lowered it to loop around Molly's waist to stop her from slipping over on the icy pavement. She still had her boots on which were normally quite good but right out at the front of the hospital the ever present snow had been trampled down so much it had turned into a bit of an ice rink, so much so that one of the hospital workers was busily shovelling out grit...not soon enough for Molly though.

She clung onto Sherlock as she got her footing back, thanking him and knowing she was blushing at being in such close proximity with him.

He gave her a quick smile and then turned his attention back to hailing a cab but he kept his arm around her waist as he did.

'How come you never slip? Your shoes are no better than mine for this weather.'

He glanced down at his boots and smirked. 'I don't know. I must be inherently more stable than you...or maybe you just like falling for me.'

She punched his arm lightly but they both chuckled at his joke. She loved it when they were like this, just the two of them together, having a laugh and a joke. She felt as though their friendship had grown over the last few months but he was much more serious when other people were around...even John.

That got her thinking and when she climbed into the cab she turned a little to face him.

'By the way, have you got Rosie a present for Christmas yet?'

He scrunched up his nose. 'No, do I have to? I mean she's not even two so she's hardly going to notice.'

'Yes, you're a godparent, we both are, it's expected.'

He rolled his eyes. She knew how much he hated societal expectations but she was determined he'd be a good godfather to Rosie.

'Well, seeing as we're both godparents maybe we could buy something together, I wouldn't have any idea what to get her anyway.'

'Oh, well, yes I suppose we could. Just don't expect me to do all the leg work...we can go shopping together.'

'Fine, if we must. Just let me know when.'

Molly couldn't help but smile to herself as she looked out of the window. She knew it wasn't necessarily good for her heart but she loved spending time with him. It seemed to have been happening more and more since that horrible time with his sister. John was busy with Rosie and his brother was spending more time overseeing the island prison where said sister was apparently locked up; Molly shuddered a little at the thought of her. She'd never met her but what she'd heard hadn't sounded good. She'd almost killed John...Sherlock had been forced to threaten to shoot himself and she herself had been dragged into it all with that weird phone call. She'd known almost as soon as Sherlock had hung up that something wasn't right and it had been a scary few hours until she'd had word that they were all safe. John had come round to her flat the next day with Rosie and told her the full story and when she'd finally seen Sherlock she had just hugged him and thanked him and asked him if he was OK.

He'd accepted her hug surprisingly well and it was one of her most cherished memories. She'd felt closer to him since then.

It wasn't too long before the cab pulled up outside the Branbridge department store, one of the last few independent shops. The street was already teeming with shoppers even though it was only mid-morning on a week day. The murder certainly didn't look as though it had closed the store.

Sherlock checked his phone and turned to Molly. 'Come on, the body's on the fifth floor in a storage cupboard off one of the staff rooms. Apparently Lestrade wanted to close the whole store but the owners went direct to the Home Secretary and she overrode him so only part of one floor is closed. Damned moneymen putting commercial interests over our needs, you can guarantee that 90% of any evidence has already been lost with all these people tramping in and out.'

Molly smiled to herself at his disgruntlement, it was an argument that she had often heard from him and no doubt Greg had heard it endlessly as well.

They finally reached the door leading into the crime scene area; it was guarded by a bored looking police officer and Molly was surprised to see that the sales floor itself was open to the public and there were already a few people milling around with their children looking at toys to buy for Christmas. She stopped for a moment before going through the door so she could remove her coat; it was perfect for outside but she quickly got way too hot inside.

As she did she found herself accosted by a middle aged man. He was fairly nondescript, neither good looking nor awful, a little overweight, a little receding but smiling pleasantly.

'Hi, Sorry...sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you knew whether Santa's grotto was going to open today only I've brought my son to see it and I can't seem to find anyone to get an answer from.'

Molly smiled vaguely and looked around to see if there were any staff nearby but it was just her and the police officer.

'Umm, I'm not sure but I wouldn't have thought so...not today anyway.'

His face fell in disappointment. 'Oh, OK. Has something serious happened then?' He looked passed her, down the corridor where Sherlock had gone.

At this she became a little more cautious suddenly realising that he might be a journalist fishing for a story. After all she couldn't see his son he'd just indicated towards a toy aisle when he'd mentioned him.

'Sorry I'm afraid I can't discuss that. I need to go now.'

He nodded and took a step away. 'Yes, of course. Thank you.' Then he turned and headed off.

Molly spun around and smiled at the officer. 'Hi, I'm here with Sherlock Holmes and Detective Inspector Lestrade.' She pointed to where they were stood further down the corridor, Sherlock was gesturing angrily as he said something to a frustrated looking Lestrade who waved as he saw her. It must have reassured the Police Officer because he lifted the tape and let her through.

So, the scene is set...snow is falling, Sherlock and Molly are together and Santa is Lying dead in a department store. It must be Christmas!

I normally try to wait until December before thinking about celebrating but I'm already getting fuzzy, excited feelings so what they hell...let's start the fun times early this year xxx