Thanks so much for the reviews/favorites/follows you all; it's inspiring and very much appreciated. And thanks to my beta, you're amazing. Dedicating this chapter to 4UISUNI2 who wanted to see a bit of bonding between Lestrade and Annabelle and for giving the idea for this chapter. Hopefully I've done it justice. Enjoy and have a happy Monday.
Ducks in a Row
Thirty seven weeks old
Much to everyone's delight, it snows on Christmas Eve.
It falls in thick flakes and covers the ground in a shimmering blanket of white, making the city look like a scene out of a movie as the people are busy shopping for last minute things and going home to their families. In 221B Baker Street, the living room is full of people and bathed in the light coming from the fire place. It's a small gathering of friends and family, all piled into the room and talking while Sherlock (who was practically bombarded by Mrs. Hudson the moment he stepped inside) occasionally plays a song on his violin.
The air is filled with the sound of chatter, everyone talking at once and creating a low rumble that circulates through the flat. Molly takes a quick head count, feeling like something or someone seems to be missing from their group. And sure enough she notices the absence of Greg, who should have been there at least half an hour ago. She bites her lip, wonders if she should be worried and then decides to wait a little longer. If he didn't show up by seven she would ask John about it.
Lifting Annabelle onto her hip and adjusting her red dress she's picked out just for this occasion she goes in search of Sherlock who's disappeared, suddenly missing his presence on the couch next to her. She turns the corner and goes down the hall, seeing the door to his bedroom open and the light on. She's almost positive it wasn't on before.
She peers inside and sees him sitting on the bed, holding a stuffed animal in his hands and looking around the room longingly. Some of his things are still here; he hasn't had the chance to come back for them yet. It looks so much bigger than she last remembered it even with the rocking chair still tucked in the corner.
Molly takes a step inside and the floorboard creaks beneath her feet, Sherlock's head shooting up at the sound of it. His shoulders relax when he sees Molly and she comes to sit beside him. He leans over and kisses her cheek, handing Annabelle the toy and watching her face light up. She notices the lack of enthusiasm in his eyes, replaced by something she can't read.
She puts a hand on his shoulder. "What's the matter?" she lets the worry slip into her voice and he smiles, tries to show her there's nothing to worry about.
"Nothing's wrong," he sighs, "things are just changing; quicker than I expected them too. Pretty soon John will have a wife and we'll be living on our own, hopefully in something besides your flat because honestly it's getting cramped in there, and soon we'll all be in different places and-" Molly silences him with a finger to the lips, stifling a giggle.
"You know you sound like all the girls in my high school the day before we graduated, assuming we're all going to go away with a plan to never see each other again. But really Sherlock that only happens if you have no intentions of keeping in touch. Things are changing but only for the better, we'll still see John and Mary and we'll still be the same big family we are now." She catches his lips in a kiss, sealing the promise and letting him know he's not alone. He never really has been.
"I love you," he says when she pulls back, sincerity burning in his green orbs. Molly just looks at him, realizing this is the first time he's admitted it out loud and surprisingly she's speechless. But it only takes a moment for her to pull herself together.
"I love you too," she whispers, and then she breaks off in one of those breathless laughs that seemed to slip out in his presence.
The silence that falls around them only lasts for a moment before she stands up without warning and balances Annabelle in one arm and with the other grabs Sherlock's hand, bringing him to his feet. She thinks he needs to cheer up and being stuck in his old bedroom all night isn't going to do it for him. They're making their way back down the hallway when they hear the noise coming from the living room and Molly internally sighs in relief when she sees Greg standing by the fire, getting wrapped in a hug by Mrs. Hudson. She kisses Sherlock's cheek and leaves him to talk to John, going over to say her own hello.
Greg's expression is less than excited, a forced smile playing on his lips while he's in the presence of other people. Molly wonders if he and his wife are finally done for good; the last time Sherlock had gone off on one of his deducing rampages at their last get together he had said something about her still sneaking around. How he knew that was beyond her but according to Greg's face then she assumed it was true. When the detective looks up at her he smiles, it comes off as strained and fake as he leans in and kisses her cheek in greeting.
"Merry Christmas!" she says, trying her best to sound cheery. "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't show up."
He shrugs his shoulders and leans against the mantle, "I actually contemplated whether I would or not. But then I remembered Mrs. Hudson was cooking and the bar is only open until eleven tonight."
Molly laughs, tries to keep the seriousness out of the conversation and switches Annabelle to her other arm, pushing the curls out of her face. "Oh well I'm glad you've come. Besides, you can't find this kind of entertainment at a bar."
She nods to the other side of the room where John and Sherlock are fighting over the TV remote as Mrs. Hudson comes over and takes it from them, her stern gaze almost enough to burn a hold through them. They slink back to the couch like scolded children and cross their arms over their chests. The little scene actually gets a laugh out of Greg, a sincere and humored laugh that lights up his eyes.
He's about to open his mouth and reply but he stops when Annabelle begins to fuss and holds her arms out for him, struggling in her mothers arms. Molly smiles and gauges the reaction. Greg bites his lip, looking at the little girl before he looks at Molly for permission. She nods her head and he scoops Annabelle up and holds her close to his chest, his face lighting up as she babbles and grabs a hold of his tie.
Molly looks absolutely ecstatic and claps her hands together and wishes she could get a picture of the moment. Greg adores Annabelle but they never see much of him, only on the occasion that he stops by and asks for Sherlock's help on a case or Molly bumps into him at the morgue. She's glad to see the two so happy.
"You're good with her," she compliments, "normally someone can't hold onto her for five minutes before she goes looking for Sherlock."
She shakes her head at the mention of her boyfriend, glances behind her and sees him alone on the couch with the remote somehow in his hands as he flips mindlessly through the channels. She rolls her eyes and looks at Greg again.
"Can you keep a hold of her for a minute, I need to go pry that remote from his hands and get him talking to some people. He gets so excited to come over today and then all he does is watch that bloody TV." She huffs and whisks off in Sherlock's direction, leaving Greg chuckling.
"You've no idea how lucky you are to have parents who love each other the way those two do. I can tell already you're going to be just fine." He kisses her forehead and decides the join the others as Mrs. Hudson brings out more food and demands Sherlock play another song.
Maybe it's not that bad of a Christmas after all.