Notes: So it's time for Sam to be at the infamous Christmas Party. How is this going to go down?
Disclaimer All that is Canon belongs to Gatiss, Moffat and the BBC and anyone I don't know about. The only characters I own are Sam and Jen. This chapter does contain dialogue from the episode so please don't sue me.
Now that is out the way Enjoy!
Sam slowly tried to forget her meeting with Irene, though there had been some sleepless nights where she was worried that she would not complete the game. She really wanted to talk to her mother about it all. When anything was on her mind she was the one she would tell everything to. Now it was slowly eating her up inside. She had not been able to text Sherlock properly since her meeting.
Irene texted her two days later and told her she had till Christmas Eve to send the text.
"You're worried, aren't you?" Jen said to her as Sam watched her pack for the Christmas holidays.
She was never able to keep anything from Jen, it was a blessing and a curse that came with having a best friend. "I know she said that she wouldn't do anything, even if he doesn't text back but I know you can never trust people like them."
"Tell someone. What about David, one of the others who follow you?"
Contemplating it for a moment, Sam exhaled. "I can't - not my family, David or any of the other bodyguards. I cannot and will not risk their safety over a silly game."
"Don't let it ruin your Christmas."
"I won't. I already know what a ruined Christmas is like, and this is nothing compared to..." Sam stopped, remembering what she was saying. "This is small compared to … the past."
Jen gave her a sympathetic look. "What is it about Christmas you don't like?"
"I absolutely love Christmas, the music the food, being able to have chocolate for breakfast. Just something happened around the same time that makes it a little less fun."
"You want to talk - "
"Not really. I don't want to make you less in the Christmas spirit, okay?" Feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket, Sam saw she had a text. "David said he is ready and waiting for me outside, I should probably go."
Jen came over and gave her a hug. "Have a good Christmas. Hope you get really nice presents and well, you know, text if you want too."
Sam smiled gratefully. "I will. Have a good Christmas too yeah." Sam walked to her wheelchair and clipped her seatbelt and headed towards her bedroom door.
"I plan to, Merry Christmas, Sam." Jen watched as her friend left the room.
"Merry Christmas!" Sam called over her shoulder.
London felt more festive to Sam since she was last there. The lights that seemed to be on every street corner that she passed, somehow felt magical to her and gave her an excited feeling in her stomach that she always felt around Christmas time.
"Are you spending time with your family this year?" Sam turned her attention from the lights to David.
"Yes, I am." He nodded, the question catching him off guard.
"Good, kids need their dad at Christmas."
Molly was waiting for Sam in the living room when she pushed herself into the flat. Sam could see that Molly had managed to put some of the Christmas tree together, but sadly it was completely bare.
"Mum, why isn't the tree decorated?" Sam asked.
Molly pulled out a box from behind her into Sam's view. "I wanted to wait until you got home." A massive smile appeared on Sam's face. "I take it that this is something you want to do?"
"Definitely."
Before leaving to head to another job that Mycroft had requested him on, David walked in and passed Sam her crutches as she got out of her chair which he quickly folded up allowing more room.
"See you too later." David smiled.
"Bye." Mother and daughter replied at the same time.
Sam couldn't hold back her excitement as she walked to Molly. She was eager to put all the decorations on the tree. Slowly it became more decorated with the multi-coloured lights, Molly and her daughter reminiscing about past Christmas memorise, where certain decorations were from, and what had happened in the past weeks when they were apart. By the time all of the decorations were on the tree Sam and Molly stood back and admired their work.
Molly glanced at Sam. "Looks lovely, doesn't it?"
Sam's eyes glanced up to the top of the tree. "Yeah, apart from forgetting the star."
"Oh yes!" Molly giggled. "We can't forget that. Let me grab a chair and I will put it on."
Sam watched as Molly struggled clumsily to put the star on the tree, feeling a bit worthless that she couldn't help, "I miss when Grandad was here."
Molly gave up for a second and turned to her daughter. "He'd put you on his shoulders and then pass you the star."
"Yes!" Sam excitedly remembered. "And then he'd put on Fairy Tale Of New York and dance around the living room with me. We laughed so hard."
"I think I've got a picture from each year of you putting the star on the tree."
"Every year except his last Christmas. He was to sick then. But not too sick for the song."
"He was never too ill for that."
"Shame Dad is not here, he's tall enough to put it on."
Molly and Sam briefly shared a look at what she had said, though Molly knew best not to make a big thing about it. "Yes, I'm sure he would."
"Probably busy with a case," Sam took herself to the sofa. Standing up to decorate had taken it out of her.
"He might pop over. I did tell him you were back today, and he was pleased."
"Mostly because he knows when I'm here he gets a free dinner."
"He likes it because he gets to see you," Molly reassured.
"Molly!" Sherlock walked through the door. "Is our daughter home yet? Oh yes, you are. Sam." He nodded.
"Hey Sherlock," Sam greeted.
Molly smiled smugly, "I told you he might be over."
"Of course I would be over, you're home and I need someone smart to talk to, you know John doesn't make the cut."
Sam felt a little pride build in her hearing Sherlock talk about her like that. "Can you put the star on our tree?"
Sherlock cocked his head to the side confusion. "What?"
"Mum and I are too short. Can you put the star on the Christmas tree for us? I mean you have the height for it."
Molly handed him the star that she had in her hand. "It's here if you want too."
"Of course." Sherlock without any trouble put the star on top of the tree. Stepping back he joined Sam and Molly to admire the tree.
"It looks perfect now." Sam adored.
Sherlock turned around suddenly as if he remembered something. "John's planning a Christmas Eve party. A small group of people. At Baker Street. Parties and Christmas are not my thing, but you two are invited. You don't have to; I am sure you both will be busy, but..."
"Sam and I would love to, Sherlock."
He turned to look at Sam, "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Molly and Sam have agreed to come to the party," Sherlock announced as he walked through the door of his flat.
John looked up briefly from his book. "That's good, now I bet you can't wait to give her your Christmas gift."
"What?!" Sherlock's head snapped quickly in his flatmate's direction.
"A Christmas gift for your daughter."
Sherlock stared back blankly.
"A Christmas gift that you plan to give your daughter for Christmas. Seeing as it's your first Christmas together."
Again the detective's face buffered.
"For God's sake, Sherlock, you need to buy Sam a Christmas present. Even if it's the only one you buy, you need to get her something."
"Why?" Sherlock questioned.
"Why? Because it's Christmas and if you don't Sam will think she is not important to you, it doesn't have to be anything big but just something for her to know that you thought and care about her."
Sherlock buffered for a little longer. "I don't know what to get her."
"Don't look at me; I don't know either. You're the detective, can't you deduce what she wants?"
"It doesn't work like that," Sherlock huffed, crossing his arms and plopping himself in his chair similar to a child that had been told no.
"Well," John said, getting up from his chair to leave the room. "Looks like you are going to have to contact Mycroft. Night."
Sherlock paced his room for thirty minutes before he finally gave in and took John's advice to contact Mycroft, begrudgingly he did so.
"Ah brother mine, how nice of you to call at this late hour, should I be honoured?"
Sherlock could almost hear his brother smirking on the other side, biting his tongue from making a comment about his brother's recent weight gain. "I'm just going to cut to the chase, brother."
"You don't know what to get Samantha for Christmas." Mycroft's voice cut in.
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Because there would be no other reason for you to be calling me at all." Mycroft paused for a second, "and John Watson contacted me via text around twenty-five minutes ago."
Sherlock made a mental note to hit John in the morning for contacting Mycroft before him. Swallowing his pride, he asked the question again. "Well, do you have any ideas?"
"I wouldn't normally, but I don't want Samantha..."
"Sam!" Sherlock corrected.
The sound of Mycroft rolling his eyes could almost be heard on the other side of the phone. "Fine. I don't want Sam being let down at Christmas. It is already a tough time for both her and Molly."
"Why is it a tough time for them?" Sherlock inquired.
Mycroft suddenly became very serious. "That's not my place to tell you, Sherlock."
Sherlock constantly felt like everyone knew more information about his daughter than he did; he wanted to investigate more but knew better than to ask Mycroft.
"They will tell you in their own time, brother. For now how about I tell you the perfect gift for Sam"
Christmas Eve rolled around quickly; Sam sat on Molly's bed as she watched her put on makeup for the party. "You look lovely, Mum."
Molly blushed a little. "Thanks, Sam, I thought I'd try and make a bit of effort."
"You always look nice, but this is different, just a little extra."
Molly looked at her daughter in the reflection of the mirror. "Well it is Christmas after all."
"Dad will like it. I hope he will."
Molly turned to look at Sam. "Your dad and I, we aren't, this isn't. Sam, please don't get your hopes up."
"I know Mum, you're aren't just going to see each other again, fall madly in love, get married and live happily ever after," Sam said with a tiny hint of disappointment. "I mean at least I have you both in my life. Some kids, don't even get that."
"You will always have us both. You know that, right?"
"I know, Mum."
"Well, that's me all done." Molly put down her mascara. "Mycroft said he'd have a car waiting outside for us."
Sam hopped down off the bed and managed to get a hold of her crutches and walked to the door.
"You're going out dressed like that?" Molly questioned which sounded more like a request of an outfit changed.
Sam looked down at her outfit, a festive Christmas jumper, jeans and her trainers. "What's wrong with it?"
"Don't you think you should put a coat on?"
Sam gave Molly a look she was sure Sherlock had given Anderson before. "Mum, I am literally walking to the car which will have the heating on, getting in said car, then getting out and walking into Baker Street which will also have the heating on. Then everything I've just said will be done in reverse when we come home. At what point will I need a coat?"
"It was just a suggestion; I don't want you to get a cold and be ill at Christmas. You know colds hit you hard." Molly herself put on her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck. "Come on, let's go."
Arriving at Baker Street, Sam and Molly saw Sherlock with his violin in his hand, talking to John's current girlfriend. Sam observed she wasn't thrilled by this.
"Hello everyone, Sorry, hello, uh it said on the door just to, come up," Molly said, and they walked through the door.
"Hello, Molly, Sam." Everyone seemed to say back at once.
Sam noticed Sherlock mutter something under his breath but didn't quite catch it. Her train of thought was broken when she heard a gasp as Molly took her coat and scarf off.
"So we're having Christmas drinkies, then?" Molly asked a little nervously, Sam almost didn't recognise her own mother's voice.
"No stopping them apparently," Sherlock said, sitting down at his laptop.
"It's the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me, so it's almost worth it."
"They should always be nice to you Mrs Hudson." Sam smiled.
"You hear that, boys? I think Sam's right." The landlady agreed.
As Sherlock called John to the computer, Greg came over. "Molly, Sam do you want a drink?"
"Yes please, thanks."
"I'll have what she's having." Sam smiled at Greg.
"No, you won't, you're too young," Molly replied. "Water?"
"Fine, I'll have water, but you do know studies show that parents, who let their children drink responsibly when they are young are less likely to go off the rails when they are eighteen."
"That study might be true, but, there is still a lot of time between now and you turning eighteen for me to let you drink responsibly."
"YOU'VE GOT A PICTURE OF ME WEARING THAT HAT." Sherlock voice was raised.
"People like the hat," John responded calmly.
"No, they don't. What people?"
"I like the hat," Sam said, smiling at her father.
"How are you doing now Sam after the surgery?" Mrs Hudson asked politely.
"Okay as far as I can tell, there is a bit of pain every now and again but, I'm glad to be up and walking again even if it is on these things," Sam said, gesturing to the crutches that she was leaning on. "Actually, do you mind if I sit down?"
"Oh no, not at all dear, the sofa over there will be comfortable for you."
As Sam walked she heard her mother try and make a joke, but it didn't seem to go down that well.
Greg came back over and passed them both their drinks, "Greg, this is Sam, my daughter, I'm not sure you two have met."
"Oh yeah, we did that one time when Sherlock." Both Sam and the detective sent warning looks to Greg to not mention the case. "Had information on a case for me and I came over here. I think you were here?"
"Yes, yes I was. Good to see you again, Greg."
"Well, at least you know my name, unlike this one." Greg pointed in Sherlock's direction.
"I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought you were going to be in Dorset for Christmas," Molly said.
"That's first thing in the morning, me and the wife, we're back together; it's all sorted."
"No, she's sleeping with a PE teacher," Sherlock interrupted.
Greg ignored him. "Actually, Sam, if I'd known you were coming I would have brought my son along. He's in the same year as you. Would be nice for you to chat with someone your own age."
"Nooooo." Sherlock didn't even look up from his laptop.
"That would have been lovely. I'm sure I'll meet him another time." Sam tried her best to sound polite.
Sam checked her phone again; as the adults started to talk some more, she slowly zoned out. She briefly heard something about John and his sister. She kept looking at Sherlock, wondering if he was going to come over and talk. Maybe he was uncomfortable trying to parent in front of all these people.
"I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you're serious about him."
Sam's head snapped up, she put her phone away in her jeans pocket and watched her parents; Mum definitely wasn't dating anyone. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach that this wasn't going to be good.
"What? Sorry, what?"
"In fact, you're seeing him this very night I mean that's why Sam is here without a coat she might stay over, and you'll go give him his gift."
"Take a day off," John muttered.
Greg walked over and put an alcohol drink on his desk. "Shut up and have a drink."
Sherlock ignored them. "Oh, come on, surely you've all seen the present at the top of the bag. Perfectly wrapped with a bow." Sherlock moved up out of his chair to walk to the bag. "All the others are slapdash at best. It's for someone special then. The shade of red echoes her lipstick, either an unconscious association or one she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has love on her mind. The fact she's serious about him is clear from the fact she's giving a gift at all. That always suggests long-term hopes, however forlorn, and that she's seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she's wearing."
Sam wanted it to stop; it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. Greg, John and Mrs Hudson could all see she wasn't okay. She knew whose name was on the box.
"Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts…" Sherlock finally stopped talking and looked at the name tag. Dearest Sherlock love Molly and Sam xxx. Everyone in the room stared between her parents and her quickly. The atmosphere was horrible as Sherlock's face dropped.
"You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always," Molly said, remembering back to times at university, Jim from IT and his reaction after finding out about Sam.
"I am sorry. Forgive me." Sherlock's voice broke silently. "Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper."
Sam watched as her father kissed her mother on the cheek. It was the most she had ever seen of physical contact between the two. She didn't know how she felt until a sound from Sherlock's phone made it a thousand times worse.
"Oh, no! That wasn't … I didn't"
"No, it was me."
"My God, really?" Greg asked.
"My phone!" Sherlock explained.
Sam felt her anger boil as John and Sherlock proceeded to talk about the text and the amount he had been getting.
"Excuse me," Sherlock said about to leave the room.
"A kiss!" Sam spat bitterly.
Molly and Sherlock turned, remembering Sam was in the room. "You think a fucking kiss and apology is enough." Sam got up out of her seat and walked toward Sherlock.
"Samantha mind your language." Molly's tone was sharp.
"No, Mum, he totally disrespected you. He degraded you about your body, which if I might just add he wasn't that displeased with around thirteen years ago otherwise I wouldn't be here."
Sherlock turned to look at his daughter.
"Sherlock you don't talk about my Mum like that. She deserves respect, and you are not excluded from that because you are Sherlock Fucking Holmes. She tried to do something nice for you. As for the way the other presents are wrapped that's my fault. I did that for Mum because she was busy I thought I might try to help. So I am going to make one thing clear, don't ever talk about my mum like that ever again, especially in my presence. That's strike two."
"Sorry," Sherlock said, walking to his bedroom.
"You okay?" Molly asked her daughter.
"Are you?" she said, walking over to Molly for a hug.
Molly didn't answer but hugged her daughter.
"I'm sorry about him, Sam," Mrs Hudson said, "he has been a bit funny lately; it seems this case with a woman has got under his skin."
"You sure you're okay?" John said, looking at her even though he knew the answer.
Sam held back tears. "I have to be. That whole scene just happened; can't change it." Sam turned to look at Molly. "I'm sorry I didn't wear my coat and wrapped the other presents."
"Sam, you have nothing to apologise for, you were helping me out and you did a very good job of it." Molly wiped away a tear that escaped from Sam's eye.
"Can we go home soon? I don't feel well."
Molly looked around sympathetically at everyone in the room, but from the looks, they gave back, Molly knew they all understood. "Let me grab my coat and we can go."
As they left John walked to Sherlock's room. "You okay?" he asked the detective as he saw him finish a phone call.
"Yes," he said as he was about to shut the door.
"Just wanted to let you know Sam and Molly went home. Sam said she wasn't feeling well."
Sherlock opened his door slightly. "I didn't give Sam her Christmas present."
"I don't think she wants it now after what." John didn't get a chance to finish as Sherlock shut the door in his face.
Notes: So Sam is not happy with Sherlock because he was a total dick towards Molly.
He didn't get a chance to give Sam her Christmas her present anyone want to have a guess at what it is? One clue for you both Molly and Sherlock have used one in different episodes
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As always thank you goodshipsherlollipop for beta reading this for me. I am so grateful