Molly huffs in the cold, frosty December air as she heads to the little convenience store at the end of her block. She was determined to make the best damn sugar cookies her friends have ever eaten for Sherlock's annual Christmas Eve party, until she had run out of eggs, of all things. This year it will be different. Sherlock has changed in dozens of ways, become more human, more considerate and they had even started dating recently. It wasn't just something that was on a whim, no way, not with Sherlock. It involved planning, communication, rules, safety measures, and other codes that normal couples don't have to deal with, but it's going perfectly because it's them.

She smiles, thinking of how far they have come and how lovely being in a relationship with him has actually been. He's been doing great with checking in, planning dates, leaving her cute notes or a single flower on her desk at work, and saying thank you when she assists with a case. Also, despite what he may say about loathing the Christmas season, she knows he's fibbing. Sherlock has been in an even more pleasant mood since December had come around and she had mentioned Christmas this year. Knowing she is usually alone, he was more than happy to ask her to stay over that entire week to help him prepare for the party, and well...just because he enjoys her company.

Molly thinks back to when they began sleeping over at one another's homes. It was a bit awkward at first, but after that first night they both found that they sleep just a little better in each other's arms than they do alone. Years ago she never would have imagined that her love for him would ever be reciprocated, and she had tried with all her might to give up the thought that it could happen when she attempted to move on with Tom, but that was a disaster. Then she began noticing little changes in the way Sherlock acted towards her or treated her. He regarded her a bit more highly, not just as a professional, but as a friend and a confidante that he had always known he could go to when he had something pressing or feelings related on his mind.

Then after Sherrinford, everything had been out in the open, emotions running high and things just...came to their peak. After their multi-emotion argument (well, she did most of the yelling and crying, but he cried too), they had cooled off, had a formal discussion and once he was adamant that he would never let anything hurt her again, not even himself, she had decided to pursue a relationship with him to see if their mutual feelings could lead to something affirming.

And now it's their first Christmas together as a couple. Their friends were a bit shocked a few months ago when they had told them the news. John especially, but they had all been happy for them and accepted that this was real, and not one of Sherlock's cruel jokes. Molly can't exactly blame them for jumping to that conclusion first though, with their odd history and the fact that he had played that cruel false relationship trick with Janine. However, Sherlock convinced them that he was not that kind of man anymore; at least not with his friends, and especially not Molly, with whom he had already hurt so much in the past, and who had been there for him through every life and death situation he had needed her.

Entering the little shop, she slips her gloves off and stuffs them into her pocket, making her way to the eggs. A nostalgic smile crosses her face as "Deck The Halls" comes on the radio within the store. Her father used to sing this song with her and her brother when they were young and he was alive as they decorated the Christmas tree and their little house. Picking up her eggs, she turns around and bumps into a man.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see y-…Sherlock?"

Sherlock grins and clamps his hands gently around hers, steadying the egg carton, then leans down, pecking her lips. "Molly, it's absolutely freezing, what are you doing out and about, I thought you were going to perfect your cookie recipe?"

Molly chuckles and rolls her eyes. "I was until I ran out of eggs. It's only a block, and it would've taken forever to find parking with the mounds of snow blocking some of the corner spots. "What are /you/ doing here? You're not exactly close to Baker Street."

"I was bored and..." he trails off.

"And?", she questions, raising an eyebrow.

"And I may have...pinged your phone."

Molly gapes and hits his arm playfully. "Sherlock, you promised!"

"I know, I know I promised you deserved the privacy and I wouldn't check often but I was bored and I wondered if you had finished the cookies yet, and I was going to surprise you and come over but I saw that you were walking, presumably here and I caught up with you. Please don't be mad", he rambles quickly.

Molly sighs and smiles cutely. "Alright, you get a pass this time because you were trying to be a good boyfriend."

Sherlock smiles, crinkling his nose. "Do we /have/ to use that word? It seems so…juvenile."

"Well there's not many other words that sound normal to use, but feel free to choose one." Molly walks beside him, headed to the checkout line after grabbing some more ingredients for cookies so she doesn't run out again.

"True. I suppose you could use beau if you wanted."

"I'll try to remember that", she chuckles, going around and collecting ingredients, carrying an armful of items.

"Molly", he rolls his eyes, taking a few things from her. "You do know they have baskets, right?"

She blushes and bites her lip. "Yes, I didn't intend to get this much but then I figured I may as well while I'm here, and I didn't want to put everything down to go back and get one, sue me."

Sherlock chuckles and goes to the checkout with her, placing the items on the belt. "I can get this, if you want. Being a good /beau/ and all..."

"Sherlock, we've been over this. Being a good one doesn't mean paying for all of my things. I'm a big girl, I make my own money and I can pay for my own stuff. It's nice of you to offer though."

He nods. "Understandable."

Molly slips her gloves on and picks up a bag once she has paid. Sherlock picks up the other and walks with her to the exit. She leans her head on his arm for a moment and looks up at him. "I don't mean to be harsh about it, I hope it didn't come off that way. I think it's very sweet and chivalrous when you pay for our dates, and I enjoy that side of you a lot. It's just that groceries, and clothes, and other things that I buy myself isn't your responsibility. I love you, but I'm independent as well. Plus...I-I do make a lot more than you. I hate talking about money, but we're in a relationship and I like knowing that I can be honest with you."

"No, no I completely understand. I'm still...new at this. I'm seeing what the boundaries are and learning as I go, and I'm glad when you give clear cut ones. It takes the guesswork out of it, and I can spend more time focusing on spending time with you instead of being afraid to do something wrong. Also, I do know you make a lot more than me. I'm not sure if I particularly want to know how much, but it doesn't matter. I've always known how utterly impressive you are. You have to be the best to be in the position that you have, in such a renowned hospital. I'm beyond proud of you for getting where you are."

They walk out of the store and see the Salvation Army bucket, and the old man ringing the bell in the freezing cold to gather donations. Molly blushes at Sherlock's compliments, and then watches as he takes seventy-five quid from his wallet and places it in the bucket, the old man's eyes bulging and tearing up at the large donation and thanking him over and over. Sherlock nods and smiles, returning to Molly who is looking at him in awe.

"What?"

"Nothing that...that was so amazing of you. Makes my donation seem small", she says, dropping in half the amount that he did as they pass; it's all she has that isn't within her debit card.

"No donation is truly too small, because you're still giving to those in need."

Molly grins and nods. "I agree. I've just never seen you so...apt to converse with people like that. Y'know, you usually ignore vendors and such."

"Mhh well, 'Tis the season, hm?"

"Absolutely", she replies and grins as they walk back to her house.

Molly and Sherlock spend the remainder of the night perfecting Molly's cookie recipe, both ending up covered in flour from their "flour ball" fight. They laugh until they nearly burst, Sherlock grabbing her waist and pulling her down to the floor with him where it looks like they could nearly make angels in the flour. She giggles and squeals, landing in his lap and draping her arms around his neck. Her eyes flicker to the sight of her messy kitchen before Sherlock's eyes sparkle mischievously and he brings his hands up to cup her flour-laden cheeks, kissing her soundly. Molly finds herself once again ignorant to the state of her kitchen as she melts into his warmth. Tis the season, indeed.