Sherlock breezes through the door into Molly's living room, a bounce in his step, that is, until he stops dead in his tracks. Surveying the room, it looks like Christmas absolutely threw up all over the place. There is tinsel, ornament boxes, and dozens of trinkets and winter themed decor all over the sitting room floor. A very flustered Molly Hooper looks like she is on the verge of breaking down, her ponytail a mess, and her giant sweatshirt drooping off of her shoulder.
"Molly?", his grin quickly turns into a frown.
She sniffles and sits cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by red and green and gold boxes. He goes over and sits next to her, scooting closer and pulling her into a large hug. "Heyy…what's wrong?"
Tears begin to stream down her face and looks at him weakly. "You'll think it's stupid…"
Sherlock cups her face. "Moll, if it's important to you, I won't think it's stupid. Now, what is it?"
"I-…I can't find my Dad's nativity scene. H-he inherited it from his grandmother and when he died, I made sure to keep it in a special place every year so I could find it, and I can't find it anywhere. I went through almost every single place in my attic. I can't find it." She looks at him brokenly, her face sullen and eyes puffy.
Sherlock strokes the tears from her eyes and softly kisses her forehead. "Shh, don't fret, alright. We'll find it, and I'll help you. You had it last year, right?"
She nods and sniffs, wiping her face and brushing hair away from her eyes before hugging him closely. He wraps his arms around her and rubs her back.
"Well, it's here somewhere if you had it last year. You were probably in such a panic that you just overlooked it. It'll be alright, okay?"
Molly nuzzles his neck and breathes him in, his presence and warmth calming her down. "Okay", she says quietly, cuddling and playing with his fingers. "How did your case go?"
He caresses her hair and mumbles into her temple. "It went great. It was a challenge, but we finally cracked it, and the guy was arrested. Mostly because he made a tiny mistake. It was glorious to catch him in the act."
Molly looks up at him and smiles a bit. "I'm glad you caught him. You're so amazing, you know that?"
Sherlock blushes a bit and kisses her softly. "So are you. Now, how about we try to find the Nativity, hm?"
Nodding, she slowly climbs off of his lap, standing up as he does. She walks down the hall to the ladder hang on the ceiling that leads to the attic, Sherlock in tow. He pulls down the ladder then climbs up carefully. Molly follows and begins to look again, this time with a calmer demeanor.
After about a half hour, Sherlock cries out in triumph as he pulls a tattered white box from the corner of the attic, surrounded by other holiday boxes and clothing. "I found it!"
Molly gasps and rushes over, peering inside and tears up, throwing her arm around his neck happily. "Oh, Sherlock…I could have sworn I looked all over this place. Thank you, thank you!" She kisses him lovingly and grins, taking the worn box from his hands into her own, protecting it as if it were a baby.
Sherlock smiles endearingly at her, wishing that she had her father back. He knows how much heartache she went through during the years after he passed away, and how much hardship and tragedy she lived through. When he thinks back to how emotional she was when she talked about miscarrying, even at such a young age, he remembers the first time that he met her and deduced her strong desire to be a mother again one day. He knows that they have only been dating for a little while, but he also knows that they aren't getting any younger, and he makes a mental note to talk to her about it more in depth than he had at Rosie's show. Oh, how her cheeks had turned red and her lips made the cutest upturned half-smile.
Seeing her all this time with Rosie has made him realize that she would, in fact, be one of the best mothers on Earth if she were given the chance. Although, he knew that even before Rosie was born. Every time she had to autopsy a child, she would make it through and then break down. Sometimes he would be there and other times he would find her in her office with tears running down her cheeks. The death of a child has always been hard for her to bear.
Sherlock closes up the attic once they're both back on the main floor and follows her. She bites her lip and sets the box down carefully, then moves a few boxes and clears one of her decorative side tables. Picking up her phone, she finds her Christmas playlist and turns on "Deck The Halls", the way her dad used to while decorating for the season. She takes out two festive reindeer antler headbands from a box; they have multicolored bells on them, and she smirks devilishly.
"Ohhh Sherlockkk…"
"Wha- oh God no."
Molly giggles and prances over to him, making a pouty face and looking up at him innocently with puppy dog eyes. "Pleaseeeeeeee", she grins. She places one on herself and rubs his chest. "If you do, I'll make it up to you later, plus there's nobody around except us."
Sherlock smirks and pulls her flush against his chest. "Oh you will, will you? And just exactly how will you make it up to me?"
"I think you have an idea", she teases, a lilt to her voice.
"Mmm well, that wouldn't be very fair would it? You enjoy it too."
Molly groans and pouts. "Sherlockkkk. I said pleaseeee!"
He laughs softly. "Now you sound like Rosie. Ugh, damn Moll. Fine", he groans.
"Yay!" she squeals happily and moves onto her tiptoes, placing it on his head, and fixing his curls around it. "Ooh so cute!"
Sherlock blushes and clears his throat. "Right...well now…the er, Nativity, right?"
"Oh, yes!" she grins and sings along to her playlist softly while setting up the stable and the figurines. Sherlock begins to wrap some tinsel around the edge of the mantle the way he had seen it last holiday season when he had visited her for body parts. As he looks over at her, he almost doesn't mind if he looks foolish with the antlers, because seeing the look of utter bliss on her face makes him want to treasure it and make her feel this way for the rest of her life.