A/N: Another I know but hey ho it's Christmas so have a Christmas themed one! Maybe the last one... maybe not...

CHRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISTMAS

A Few Months Later

"Sherlock it is Christmas!" John Watson laughed, pouring the brandy that Benedict had provided for the men as they gathered in the drawing room. The four men had turned out in their best tails and were looking rather dapper.

Sherlock and John had returned from London just in time for the merry festivities. Mycroft had tried to make excuses about being stupendously busy over running the country but Violet Holmes was a formidable woman and even Mycroft had bowed down to her.

Sherlock was in a foul mood, second guessing every comment and deducting all he could about the estate and the changes that had happened since he acquired a property in London. John just ignored it, after six months of putting up with every snipe and comment, Sherlock's deductions were part of the norm now. Mycroft and Benedict however hadn't been in Sherlock's company for quite some time and while Benedict chatted to John about the war abroad but Mycroft was giving back all he was worth until Violet interrupted them.

"Boys, boys!" She carolled, she looked exuberant. She was glowing and happy and even Sherlock's bad temper dissipated a little bit when he saw how radiant his mother really looked. A forest green dress adorned her, a large bustle was finished with silver edging and she had opted for a bare head but her silver streaked hair was up in a usual bun style. "That is enough. It is Christmas! Sherlock stop pouting and smile young man and Mycroft pour the champagne, I have no doubt that Mrs Bells wants to serve dinner and get on with her own Christmas!" Violet swept towards her husband, pecking him on the cheek.

"Are we not forgetting someone Lady Holmes?" John smiled Violet gave him a conspiratorial wink.

"She's just coming down, Polly's just fixing her hair." Violet knew from her regular contact with John that Sherlock had fussed and worried about Molly's wellbeing indirectly, but whenever John asked him outright or told him anything of Molly's health he would feign indifference.

Sherlock scowled and said nothing but took a long draught on his drink again. Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Polly popped her head around the door and smiled.

"My Lady, Lady Hooper is ready."

"John, would you kindly escort Molly in please?" Violet hooked her arm through her husband's as Molly entered the room on the arm of the good doctor. The dark red dress looked amazing against her skin and fiery brunette hair. The various hues of her hair were highlighted by the flames of the massive fire and she looked stunning, the dark red silk was finished with the white trimming on the dress, a white jacket with red piping was to keep away the chill in Elderflower mansion.

"Molly you look stunning." Mycroft smiled with an ease as she stepped into the room; the girl had remained at Elderflower to recover from the Moriartys attack. There had been night terrors, there had been bruising but she had recovered, slowly. Molly had returned to London once while the Holmes' hunted out the Moriartys', attempting to resurrect herself and claim back any inheritance she may have left. But that was it, the city made her dreams worse, they made her ribs and wrist ache. There were times she'd rather slunked back to the kitchen and ignored the aristocratic world as societal ladies flocked to Elderflower when they realised she was still alive.

Molly had already survived one Christmas Ball, thankfully under Violet's careful supervision; Molly had been so happy for the imposing nature of Lady Holmes and the social sway she manoeuvred in a room. The women of the upper class world were vicious and poisonous and Molly Hooper's return from the dead was gossip fodder for months. She hadn't been able to get away from the whispers in the corners of the room or the polite voices when they spoke to her before returning to their friends. But sweet Lady Holmes had kept Molly out of the line of fire from the more cutting remarks, especially when Sherlock had asked her to dance. Well been forced to by a smirking Benedict.

"Champagne?" Benedict offered. "I do believe Mrs Bells is ready to serve soon so we should …" Benedict never finished what he said as Lydia knocked announcing dinner.

"Dinner is served." She smiled and they moved into the large dining room.

Dinner was a fairly boisterous affair; even Mycroft was jovial as servants brought in platefuls of food, wine was shared and jokes were told and even Sherlock cracked a smile. The wine, champagne, brandy and port and other bottles stored were all pulled from their place in the cellar and poured amongst both the family and servants. It was raucous and Molly for the first time in about three years felt herself relax; John Watson was an absolute angel and when the servants were called into the dining room and music was started up he even pulled her into the space at the far of the room and started dancing.

The family laughed and clapped in time with the singing and the rhythmic banging of the servants upon the surfaces. Benedict swung Violet onto the floor as well and both Molly and John stopped to watch as the pair moved fluidly, despite their age. The evening slipped into impromptu dancing and carols as more alcohol was consumed and finally Molly had to beg leave for air as she saw three different Violet's in front of her.

"Oh of course, Sherlock will you please fetch Lady Hooper her coat." Benedict nodded towards his younger, sober son and the dark haired man quickly complied. "Take her once around the herb garden, it should be lit." Molly giggled as Sherlock helped her to her feet and with her small jacket on.

"This coat will never do." He said in his usual imperious voice. "You will freeze. Wait here." Regardless of how badly she swayed he disappeared down a dark corridor while she leant against the wood panelling on the wall giggling.

"Lady Hooper you are drunk." She scolded herself and giggled again. "Sherlocccckkkkk" She called down the hallway and heard him tut in reply. "You've left meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee." Molly sniggered as he returned into the light with a long dark coat.

"Put this on." He held it out and sighed in frustration as she wobbled towards it and struggled to put it on. "Oh for the Lord's sake." He managed to put her into the coat and took her arm, rolling his eyes as she staggered out of the side kitchen door. The cold air shocked her lungs and she struggled to button the coat.

"Oh gosh." Molly pulled her arm from the crook of Sherlock's elbow, the cold air having brought some sobriety back into her blood stream. "Well it's cold." Her fingers fluttered over the heavy buttons. "Thank you for lending me a coat Sherlock." She'd done the first four up before his gloved hands batted hers away and did the others up in quick succession.

"You're welcome Lady Hooper…" She stared up at him, their breath clouding before them in the gas lit garden. "Molly…" He stuttered before smiling at her. His smile was returned and her eyes widened.

"Sherlock." She whispered and her hands slipped into his.

"Molly. How are your ribs, mother has kept me well informed of your progress, as did John when he returned to London." He turned away from her sharply and he refused to see her face fall.

"They're better, thank you. Your mother has been a marvel." She fell into step with him, the port seeping from her skin with every step. She wobbled on a loose paving stone and he caught her in a heart beat.

"Oh Molly I cannot leave you for a moment without you falling over. Mycroft gave you the oldest brandy we have." Sherlock tutted, looping her arm through his again and pulling her closer to him. "Honestly that man is incorrigible." He shook his head and stopped as Molly slowed down.

"Sherlock?" She stared at him again. He raised an eyebrow but nevertheless turned to look at her. "My ribs are fine but why has it taken you hours to ask? Why has it taken you hours to talk to me? Why have you glared at John when he danced with me and made me feel good? You're the reason I've drank so much and frankly why…." She was cut off mid-rant as he pressed his lips to hers, his hands grasping her waist and pulling her closer. Molly squeaked but held his coat lapels and pulled herself on her tiptoes to reach him properly.

Molly smiled as they pulled back, red cheeked from more than the cold, breathing hard and she blushed furiously.

"That's how you're going to stop an argument?" She was thankful for the alcohol still rocketing through her system.

"I hope we have more of them in that case." He smirked and she shook her head, mildly regretting the action as the world span. She stumbled again, grasping at his sleeve as her ankles gave out beneath her.

"Oh Lady Hooper." He chuckled. "You are staying off the port."

"And you Master Holmes, are having some because quite frankly you need a little Christmas cheer." She giggled again, her anger dissolved as he pulled her in closer again.

"Merry Christmas Molly." He leant down again and captured her lips again, smiling at her little sigh of relief.