Molly followed her parents-in-law to the kitchen.
Once there, Mrs. Holmes took the turkey out of the oven first so her husband could carve it. Then came the potatoes which were nicely roasted, plus roasted carrots to which honey was added. There was sage and onion stuffing as well as gravy.
For dessert, the Holmes matriarch had prepared steamed Christmas pudding which was on the stove, still covered to keep warm.
"I make it without the candied peel," she informed her daughter-in-law, with a smile and roll of her eyes. "Sherlock has always 'intensely disliked' it, as he would always say when I used to use it, so I stick with just the dried fruit now."
"That is one thing I do know," commented Molly, with a nod. "Neither of us is a fan of fruitcake for that very reason. Having fruitcake for the wedding was not our first choice, but there weren't really any other options we liked." She cast her mind back to their wedding day. Even without the candied peel, she and Sherlock had ventured only one bite each of the cake, then head shared the fondant, leaving the rest of the cake untouched.
"Oh, your cake didn't have the candied peel in it, did it?" remarked Violet Holmes, seeming to have only just recognised the fact.
"Nope. I asked for it to be omitted, so it ended up being a good compromise, and we didn't mind eating it," Molly responded, then added honestly, "Well, a bite of it anyway; the fondant was much easier for us to eat."
Mrs. Holmes gave her daughter-in-law an affectionate smile. "Well, you should be able to try a little of the pudding then - and don't worry about the brandy that is in it, because the alcohol dissipates during the steaming process, in case you're wondering. Sherlock will be pouring some brandy on the pudding as well which will be set alight, but of course that means the alcohol content will be burned off as well," she assured Molly.
Molly nodded. "Thanks for telling me. I've heard those things about alcohol of course, but to be honest, I've never cooked with it before, so I hadn't really thought about it. I will definitely try a piece."
"Just watch your teeth when you are eating it. I always put in a few 50p coins, so maybe you'll be lucky and get one." Mrs. Holmes patted her on the shoulder.
"What a fun tradition," enthused Molly, who was not familiar with that particular one. This really was already the best Christmas she could remember. She had worked on most Christmas Days in the past several years, when she had been estranged from her mother. The one exception had been "that" Christmas when Sherlock had hurt her terribly with his callous words. He had admitted to her during their engagement that it had been jealousy over the thought of her having another boyfriend that caused his cruelty, even though he hadn't acknowledged it to himself at the time.
Of course, they had recently re-created that memory to make a much more satisfying one. Molly smiled to herself, remembering the delightful new memory they had recently made. It had been a night to remember, in a good way this time.
Having a family to celebrate Christmas with now was a new experience, and one she hoped would continue each year. Perhaps next year she could see if her mother could come too.
With the turkey carved and all the dishes ready in serving bowls, save for the pudding, which would come out after the dinner, the three of them made their way into the dining room.
Sherlock immediately stood and took the dish of potatoes from Molly, setting it on the table. "You don't want to exert yourself too much," he told her firmly, drawing his brows together a little.
Molly rolled her eyes at her husband. "Sherlock, I love you, but you are being a teensy bit over-protective. I am quite capable of handling a dish of potatoes right now." Her lips quirked as she added, "In four months, maybe not so much."
Sherlock grinned unrepentantly. "If I choose to spoil my wife and be over-protective, that's my prerogative as a dutiful husband."
"That's right, son," approved his father, with a nod. "You take care of your lovely wife. When your mother was pregnant, I would give her daily massages and-"
"I do not need to hear the details," interrupted his son, waving a hand at his father to get him to stop talking.
Molly merely shook her head and smiled. Sherlock was ridiculously childish when it came to hearing anything related to "adult" situations between his parents. During one particular conversation during their engagement, the silly man had even told them he preferred to think that he had been delivered by a stork. That had been highly amusing to both his parents and herself.
With everything on the table, the Holmes family sat down to eat. Before they could start passing around the food however, Sherlock cleared his throat.
Everyone looked at him questioningly. "Maybe we should pray first?" he suggested, looking uncertainly at Molly.
Molly smiled at him proudly, Mycroft looked condescending, and the Holmes parents appeared rather pleased with their son's suggestion.
"You go ahead and do it," said Mrs. Holmes, smiling at her younger son.
"Okay." He began to speak, nervously at first, but then with increasing confidence.
"Dear Lord, thank you for bringing us here together to celebrate the birth of our Saviour, Jesus, and to enjoy this time of gathering together as a family. We pray you will bless this food and the hands that prepared it. We ask that you will bless us throughout the coming year and see that my wife safely delivers a happy, healthy baby, whether it be a boy or girl. Amen."
Molly's eyes had snapped open when he had mentioned them having a boy or girl, and she saw Sherlock's eyes were fixed on hers.
Everyone echoed the "Amen," even, surprisingly, Mycroft.
Molly squeezed her husband's hand. "That was lovely," she told him.
His only response was to purse his lips and ask in a low voice, "How much longer are you going to keep me in suspense?"
"Patience, my love," she smiled at him and he scowled briefly, but soon turned his attention to the food that was being passed around.
Once everyone's plates were filled, the Holmes matriarch announced, "Before we eat, let's pull the Christmas crackers I put on the table." With a sideways glance at Molly, she added, "Not the silver ones Molly brought, remember. Those are for after the meal."
Everyone dutifully pulled the crackers which made an enormous pop and disgorged their contents. Inside each was a silly plastic toy and a coloured paper crown.
"Now everyone has to wear the crowns while they eat," insisted Mrs. Holmes. The family put on the crowns without a fuss, except Mycroft, who only complied when his mother put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
Molly heard him muttering under his breath, "Sentiment," in a disparaging tone.
Then the family ate the delicious meal, with only a few comments of appreciation or requests to pass this or that, in order to have seconds.
Molly did the meal full justice. It was so nice to have her appetite back again, and to be putting back on the weight she had lost due to the severe morning sickness that had plagued her during her first trimester.
Sherlock looked askance at his wife when she asked for a third helping of potatoes. "Don't even think about telling me I am eating too much," she responded to his look with an arched eyebrow. "Thanks to you, I have to regain the weight I lost."
"I didn't make you lose the weight," expostulated her husband, looking affronted. "It was the baby's fault!"
"And who, may I ask, is responsible for putting the baby inside me?" asked Molly tartly, pressing her lips together. She took a wicked sense of delight in embarrassing her husband.
"Your table talk is becoming as inappropriate as that of my parents," he complained, smacking a hand to his forehead and closing his eyes, while Molly and his parents chuckled. Even Mycroft had a half-smile on his face. It was obvious that in Mycroft's opinion, any time his brother was embarrassed was a good time, even if he was not the one causing the detective torment.
With dinner finished at last, Sherlock insisted that Molly stay seated, while he helped clear away the dishes.
Molly allowed him to do it. It was really very sweet that he wanted to take care of her and allow her to relax. She was starting to get a little excited at the thought of the surprise Sherlock would soon receive.
Mummy Holmes returned, carrying the Christmas pudding. Sherlock added the heated brandy to the pudding and set it alight.
"Perhaps you had better not eat any," he told her anxiously. "Alcohol is not good for the baby."
"Setting the brandy alight pretty much removed the alcoholic content, and the cooking of the pudding did the same for what was in it. What's left is not going to harm the baby. Your mother told me herself," Molly explained reasonably. "Besides," she gave him an impish grin, "I want to find some money."
Sherlock merely huffed and watched her eat her small piece of pudding as he ate his. They both found a 50p coin in their pudding. Mycroft found two, almost breaking a tooth on the second one, which he was not expecting. "Mummy, there is too much money in this pudding," he complained, much to the amusement of everyone else at the table.
An unrepentant Mrs. Holmes merely shrugged and said loftily, "Next time, watch what you put in your mouth instead of just shovelling it in there."
During their dessert, Mycroft's text alert sounded. "Excuse me," he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket, reading it, then frowning.
"What's wrong?" asked Sherlock, obviously noticing Mycroft's sour expression.
"It's my chauffeur," responded the older Holmes brother, with a long-suffering sigh. "It appears he has become a little too full of the Christmas spirit at the local pub and will not be in a fit state to drive us back home this evening."
"You can stay here," immediately offered Violet Holmes. "Your rooms are always ready for you."
"How exciting!" responded Molly enthusiastically. "Sherlock promised to show me his room, and now we'll get to stay there overnight." She was quite pleased at the thought of staying the night. The prospect of returning to London on the same day had not been a pleasant one. Three hours of travelling in one day was not her idea of fun, especially in the company of her brother-in-law. Mycroft had been insistent about them making the trip in one day, however, citing he had important things to attend to that evening.
"Thank you, Mummy," said Mycroft grudgingly. The man looked rather frustrated. He probably wanted to get home and do his work, thought Molly.
"You are most welcome, Myc." Turning to Molly, Mrs. Holmes said, "I'm sure there's something in Sherlock's wardrobe you can wear for bed. He still has clothes in there from his university days."
Molly slid a glance towards her husband, who gave her a wink, and she blushed. She knew night clothes would not be a requirement for either of them. They had made a mutual decision months before that they preferred to sleep next to each other without the hindrance of nightwear. Skin to skin contact was warmer, and much more satisfying.
Then she turned her attention towards her mother-in-law, who was saying, "Well, Molly dear. Do you think it is time we open those silver Christmas crackers?"
Molly looked over at Sherlock again. He was looking at her, a smile on his beautiful, sensual lips, but clearly had no idea what was so special about the crackers. "I think so," she said to her mother-in-law with a smile.
"Why don't we stand in a circle and do a chain of crackers?" suggested the Holmes matriarch, picking up one of the silver crackers and standing a little distance from the table.
Mycroft rolled his eyes but complied with the request, removing his crown first, as if in protest at all these silly sentimental things, and they all stood, linked together by the silver crackers.
Molly kept her eyes on the cracker between her husband and herself. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for all night.
"On the count of three, let's pull together," she suggested to everyone. "One, two, three!" Everyone yanked on their crackers at once, and with a loud series of pops, out fluttered five ribbons.
Sherlock gazed at the ribbons for a moment then looked at his wife. "Pink?" he said in wonder. Molly nodded solemnly and Sherlock picked her up in his arms, twirling her around. "It's a girl!" he exulted. "I knew it was a girl!" He put Molly down , wrapped his arms around her properly an gave her an extremely long, lingering kiss, uncaring of who might be watching. Molly put her arms around his neck, kissing him back. Sherlock's reaction had been exactly what she had hoped, and she was thrilled that he was so obviously delighted.
An apologetic cough brought them back to reality, and they looked around to see both Holmes parents standing there with tears in their eyes. Mycroft himself had a suspicious shimmer in his eyes, although it may have just been a trick of the light.
"We're going to have a beautiful granddaughter!" exclaimed Violet Holmes excitedly, hugging her husband in her enthusiasm.
"Congratulations...again?" said a bemused Mycroft, unsure of whether congratulations were in order for a second time, upon learning of the baby's gender.
Sherlock, however, was grinning from ear to ear. "A princess," he whispered, taking Molly's hand and squeezing it. "We're having a little princess."
"Yes, we are," she confirmed, looking with adoration at her beloved husband, with that paper crown still perched on his head. Princess indeed, she thought, and a king for a father.
"I guess we are going to have to start thinking of baby names for a girl," he continued in a low voice.
"I've already been thinking about it," Molly told him hesitantly. "What do you think about naming her Victoria, to honour the memory of your friend?"
Mrs. Holmes, with her sharp ears, had heard their words and broke into their quiet conversation with, "Victoria is a perfectly lovely name, and it was the name of a great monarch as well!"
"It's perfect, Molly," Sherlock said, brushing her lips with his. "Just like you."
Author's note: I really had fun with this chapter, the anticipation of the reveal in particular.
I actually researched the question of alcoholic content in Christmas pudding.
As for naming the baby Victoria, that had been in my mind for months before writing this chapter.
I also researched the "make your own" Christmas crackers. I remember pulling crackers one year in Australia and wearing the paper crowns, so thought it would add a bit of humour (especially with Mycroft's reaction).
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I would love to know your thoughts on it. Did you like the unique way Molly revealed they were having a baby girl?