Notes: Whos ready to read about Christmas in February. Please say you are if not please skip to chapter seventeen which will be published when I write it. Which will be who knows when next month hopefully. (Please let it be next month) When the whole festive and new years will be over in the story for this time anyway. If you are looking forward to Christmas in you're February grab a hot chocolate, cook a Christmas dinner and settle in
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.
Anyway, let's get to the chapter. Enjoy!
Molly and Sam cuddled up on the sofa, watching a Christmas film into the early hours of the morning. Though being tired neither of them could fall asleep so instead decided to watch The Polar Express.
Molly looked at the screen but didn't take in what was happening. A beep from her phone broke her train of thought as she reached for it. Sam looked at her inquisitively. "It's work," Molly explained, "they need someone to do a post-mortem apparently. It's urgent."
"Go, it's fine," Sam told her mother.
"Sam, it's Christmas. I can't just leave you."
"Mum it's fine, all the other staff are with their families. I have Elliot watching me."
"But what if I am not back for you to open presents? What about Christmas dinner?"
"All things that can be done on a different day, Mum your job is more important."
Molly kissed her daughter on the head. "Sometimes I wish you weren't as understanding."
"Blame yourself you taught me to be compassionate."
Molly looked at her watch before she headed out the door and saw that it was past midnight. "Merry Christmas Sam."
The brothers were talking as they entered the morgue, Molly stood there waiting for them to get near to the body.
"You didn't need to come in, Molly." Sherlock droned.
"It's okay, everyone was busy with … Christmas."
"Sam?" Sherlock whispered as it even surprised himself that he made it a question.
"Asleep on the sofa, probably, Christmas is difficult. She is very understanding of me, as a parent, the job and the constantly different hours. She also didn't want anyone else missing out on Christmas with their … family." Molly changed the topic back to the reason why they were all there. "The face is a bit sort of bashed up, so it might be a bit difficult."
Molly lowered the sheet that was covering the body.
"That's her, isn't it?" The older Holmes brother questioned.
Sherlock ignored his brother. "Show me the rest of her."
Molly pulled the sheet down further.
"That's her," Sherlock said, walking out of the room.
"Thank you, Miss Hooper," Mycroft said.
"Who is she? How did Sherlock recognise her from not her face?" Molly wondered if this person could have put her daughter in danger.
Mycroft smiled politely and started to walk away before turning around and taking one step back towards Molly. "I hope the gifts my parents and I got for Sam, will be liked. Merry Christmas."
"Do you ever wonder if there's something wrong with us?" Sherlock asked.
"All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock."
"What about Sam?" Sherlock coughed at the distaste of the cigarette.
"Sam's different; she's your daughter. Sherlock."
"I wasn't talking about myself I was talking about you." Sherlock walked away down the morgue corridor. "Merry Christmas, Mycroft."
"And a Happy New Year," his older brother replied.
Sherlock almost headed home as he walked out of Bart's, then remembered what Molly said, about Sam. She was on her own, the only person keeping her company was one of Mycroft's men. He wanted to try and make things better.
Before he left Baker Street to head to the morgue he was grateful that he had given one of his homeless network Sam's present. Telling them to wait there with it till he arrived. When he got out of the taxi he could see them waiting for him.
"Thank you," Sherlock said as he gave them money in exchange for the bag. "There is a bit extra seeing as it's Christmas and all."
As he walked into the flat, grateful that he had been given a key many months ago, he found his daughter half asleep on the sofa. Setting the gift bag under the tree he walked over to Sam.
"Sherlock?" she asked sleepily.
"Yes."
There was silence between them.
"Sorry." He said, repeating the word he already said that night. "I shouldn't have said those things and it was very wrong of me, and for not talking to you at the party, the case was more on my mind and that wasn't acceptable."
"Sherlock -"
"I regret the things I said about your mother. I thought she might have been seeing someone new and that would mean she'd take you away from me."
"Mum wouldn't do that. Even if she was dating someone new I would still want to see you."
"You would? Even after tonight?"
"Yes, I mean you're my Fa … you're always going to be."
Sherlock leaned forward and helped Sam into a sitting position and hugged her. "I will try not to make it strike three." His heartbeat quickened when he felt Sam's arm tighten around him.
"Were you part of the reason Mum had to go into work tonight?"
"Yes." Sherlock sat on the sofa, "Sorry about that as well. Are you on your own?" He couldn't see any of Mycroft security.
"No, it's Elliot watching me tonight. He is in the kitchen making coffee and doing some government work I'm not supposed to know about. Want to watch the film? It's a different one to the one I was watching when Mum went to work." Sam was done talking but wanted her father's company.
Sherlock nodded. "Let me just let Elliot know he is not needed tonight." Sherlock walked into the kitchen, informing Elliot that he would be staying with Sam. He could tell that the man was relieved that he would be able to spend Christmas with his family.
"See you, Sam. Merry Christmas." Elliot hugged Sam before he left.
"Merry Christmas, Elliot. Oh, and I am sure he will say yes."
Elliot looked shocked but then noticed Sam's eyes looking at a small box in his pocket. "That's good to know."
Sherlock saw him out and by the time he made it back into the living room Sam had made room for him to be next to her. As the film progressed Sherlock could see how tired his daughter was. Slowly she started to lie down and before Sherlock knew it she was using his legs as a pillow. When she started to shiver he grabbed the blanket on the sofa and wrapped it around her.
"Thank you," Sam said, her eyes focused on the screen. "Did you text that woman back?"
Sherlock stiffened and thought for a moment, "No."
"Maybe you should now, it is Christmas after all."
"She is dead. No point texting the dead. They don't text back."
Sherlock continued to watch the green frog-like figure dressed in a Victorian outfit sing a song about Christmas. Suddenly a slightly older cat walked into the room and joined them. "He's a bit old isn't he."
"He's only seven," Sam explained. "Grandad got it for me. It was the last thing he-" Sam stopped mid-sentence. "It will be seven years boxing day since he-"
Sherlock didn't need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what Sam was going to say. "I didn't know, I am sorry."
"Christmas is different each year. I do one year with your parents then the next year a quite one with Mum. It always seemed to fit into the schedule of you not being with them. I thought we might do a big Christmas get together this year considering we know about each other now, but Mycroft brought them that cruise trip for their anniversary. So yeah, Christmas just doesn't always work out for me."
Sherlock brushed away the hair he noticed that had fallen in her face.
"We aren't even going to do a Christmas dinner. That will be another day, Mum will be too exhausted to do it when she comes in."
They didn't speak anymore after that and Sam was asleep in ten minutes. Half an hour after that Molly walked through the door exhausted as Sam had predicted. "Oh, hello," Molly said awkwardly not wanting to make eye contact with Sherlock.
"I wanted to be here with you; after the Christmas party I felt I should apologise. I can go if you'd like?"
"It's fine, I'll text Mycroft and John to let them know you are here. They are worried about you." Molly quickly sent off the texts. Then she looked at her sleeping daughter. "I should wake her up and take her to her bedroom."
"I can carry her," Sherlock suggested. "So you don't have to wake her up."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," Sherlock picked his daughter up and followed Molly towards Sam's bedroom. After Molly pulled back the cover carefully, he placed her on the bed, leaving Molly to slowly tuck her in.
"Goodnight sweetheart." Molly kissed her daughter.
They both walked out of the room silently. Molly walked over to the TV and switched it off. Feeling Sherlock would still want to talk, she sat down in the spot where her daughter lay moments earlier. Sherlock himself walked over to the dining room table which had a small photo album out, next to it a few pictures were on the table as well. Sherlock guessed Molly had taken them out to look at and reminisce.
"Past Christmases," Molly explained, watching him. "Just wanted to have a look back."
Sherlock picked up a few from the table and looked closely. He could see Sam on the shoulders of an older man. He was watching her as she put the star on the tree. "Your father?"
Molly rubbed her eyes. "Yes."
"Sam explained that he passed around this time."
"He did. Sam misses him, especially around this time. He was a big part of our Christmases. Losing him around this time makes it harder." Molly remembered why Sherlock was in the morgue earlier that evening, "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Barely knew her." Sherlock placed the pictures back on the table.
"You can stay if you want. Be here for Christmas and watch Sam open gifts and watch whatever specials are on tv. It's what we normally do. No Christmas food, I'm afraid." Molly got up and started to walk to her room.
"Do you want me to stay, Molly?"
Molly thought for a moment, "Yes."
"I didn't mean what I said at the party. I didn't mean for you or Sam to get hurt."
"I know, Sherlock, you were just trying to show off by being smart." Molly walked into her room and back out again with a pair of pyjamas. "Mycroft had these sent over after you found out about Sam. He thought sooner or later you would be staying the night."
"Thank you, Molly." I don't deserve your kindness, he thought to himself.
"There is a spare blanket and pillow in the airing cupboard if you need them. That's the door next to the bathroom."
Sherlock nodded.
"Well, goodnight," Molly walked to her room and shut the door.
"Goodnight, Molly Hooper. Merry Christmas!" Sherlock whispered to himself.
Molly woke up to a lovely smell of food. Rolling over she checked the time on her watch and saw that it was gone midday and nearing one o'clock.
"One! Oh shit." Molly jumped out of bed. Quickly running into the living room area she found the smell of cooking became stronger.
"Oh, Molly, you're awake," Sherlock said, popping his head round from the kitchen. "I thought I might make the Christmas dinner for you and Sam. Should be ready in about thirty minutes."
Molly blinked, surprised, "You cooked for us?"
"Sam and you both said it wouldn't feel like Christmas without the meal. So knowing you would have been understandably too tired to make it I decided to take matters into my own hands. Sam is awake but just in her room. Why don't you take the opportunity to go have a hot shower?"
Molly took Sherlock's advice and had the hot shower; she spent more time than she normally would have but decided to treat herself, it was Christmas, after all. When she was out of the shower, Molly quickly dried her hair and put on one of her many Christmas jumpers.
"How was the shower?" Sherlock asked when she walked out of her bedroom again.
"Lovely, Sam come out of her room yet?"
"Yes, she's just changing out of her pyjamas into something a bit more festive apparently." Sherlock mimicked Sam's voice.
Sam came out of her room, "I don't sound like that."
"You do a little bit," Sherlock told her.
"Merry Christmas, Sam." Molly hugged her daughter. "Have you opened any of your presents yet?"
"No, I haven't Mum, I wanted to wait till you woke up and then Sherlock suggested that we wait until after dinner."
"That sounds like a lovely idea."
"Dinner is just about ready," Sherlock told them. "Go sit down and I will dish it up for us."
The Christmas dinner was one of the best meals Sam and Molly had had in a long time. Each mouthful tasted better than the next. Sam felt like she could have carried on eating it forever. When everything was finished and cleared up, the three of them made their way into the living room ready to unwrap gifts.
Sam was excited for Molly to see the presents she had gotten her. The first was some science stationery which included little sticky Post-it Notes of cats dressed up as scientists. "Oh, wow Sam, these will come in useful when doing paperwork and papers, thank you."
"I got you one more." Sam handed over the package.
Molly carefully unwrapped the present and was pleasantly impressed at the gift. "I love it, Sam. Thank you." Pulling the present out of the paper Molly wrapped around a pink and black striped scarf over her shoulders. "What do you think?"
"It looks lovely on you, Mum."
"Why don't you open some of yours?"
Sam smiled, "Okay." Molly passed her the gifts that were from her grandparents and Mycroft. Sherlock's parents had kindly sent some books that Molly suggested Sam was interested in when they messaged her a few weeks ago. "I've been wanting to read this book for ages," Sam said excitedly to Molly.
"I know," Molly said. "The one from Mycroft comes with a note, that says, for school use only and not for anything else and that he will know if you go against that."
"That all sounds very conspicuous," Sam said as she started to unwrap the gift. "Oh my god, Mycroft got me a laptop."
Molly, who was surprised herself, questioned it, "He did?" Molly came round to look at Sam's gift. "You're very lucky, you know that, right?"
"Yes, Mum, I really am."
Sam opened a few other gifts; Molly had got her a couple of DVDs. Dollars had been sent from Molly's brother which Sam planned to use the next time she was staying with him and his family in America. Finally, all that was left was Sherlock's gift to Sam.
"This one is from me," he said, handing her the bag.
Sam looked inside, it was one massive shape, it looked kind of like a rectangle but gradually got smaller as it went up. Slowly taking it out of the bag and unwrapping it, Sam found herself looking at a number of different coloured notebooks.
"Are these Moleskin notebooks?" Sam asked not quite believing her eyes.
"Yes, Mycroft said you always look at them and that you write poetry. I thought I might get you one but they came in different sizes and colours. Their website was confusing and their customer service number was awful and did not help at all. I did not know which one you would like best, so I decided to get them all for you."
"Oh wow there are so many." Sam looked at all the different ones in her hands. "Thank you so much, Sherlock." She got up and gave him a hug.
Sherlock didn't know what to do and awkwardly hugged her back. This was different from the hug last night and on Father's Day; this felt more personal to him, as if he had done something good. "Err. You're very welcome, Sam. I am glad you like them."
Molly flashed him a smile of support.
Sam looked at the small black one, which was at the top of the pile, "This is like the one you use on cases, maybe if I ever get to go on one with you I can take mine. We can compare notes."
"That sounds like a good idea. As long as your mother agrees."
Sam turned to look at Molly. "Please, Mum."
"I will think about it. But nothing too graphic and definitely no bodies that are decapitated. All body parts must be together."
"There go all the fun cases," Sam muttered.
"At least it's a case." Sherlock offered.
Sam turned to Sherlock, remembering something. "I got you a present Sherlock." She handed him a poorly wrapped gift from behind her back.
"Oh, you didn't have to," he replied awkwardly.
"I got Mum, your parents and Mycroft a present I wanted to get you one as well."
"What did you get Mycroft?"
"A cake subscription service. A different cake each week will be sent to his office."
Sherlock laughed. He loved that his daughter enjoyed messing with Mycroft. He was almost half tempted to do the same thing and have double the amount of cakes arrive at his brother's place of work. Ripping off the wrapping paper carefully, he saw it was a book, "Bees?" he said, looking at Sam.
"Gramps mentioned you had an interest in bees when you were about my age. I saw this book in Waterstones a couple of weeks ago and thought it would be perfect."
"Thank you, Sam."
For the rest of the day, the family of three spent time eating their weight in food and enjoying all the different things that were on tv. After Sam went to bed, Sherlock decided to head back to Baker Street. The moment he left Molly's flat he felt the loss of Irene hit him and he wasn't sure why. He didn't even like this woman. He just knew he was grateful for the last day and getting to spend Christmas with his family. For those hours he didn't let himself think about anything.
Notes: So where do you think it's going to go next? Don't worry I'm not asking for ideas (Though that is always helpful) chapter fifteen and at the way that document is looking chapter sixteen is written as well.
Did you like what Sherlock got Sam for Christmas? No one guessed correctly. Sherlock used the notebook in his first scene ever of the show and Molly used one of the day of cases in the first episode of season three.
Reviews are amazing
As always thank you goodshipsherlollipop for beta reading this for me. I am so grateful