You know the bit that I find hardest...coming up with the chapter titles for the story, why did I do this to myself? I should have learnt my lesson from my Vampire fic! Talking of that fic, I'm working on some new chapters which I'll post in the New Year. Let me know if that makes you happy.

Putting the Tinsel into Baker St

The next day Molly woke up feeling groggy and tired, she hadn't slept well at all and it showed. Still, she felt a little better after breakfast and a shower and decided to try to cheer herself up by putting her decorations up whilst listening to one of her Christmas CDs.

About one o'clock her phone rang. A quick glance at the screen told her it was Mary and Molly sighed as she answered it wondering how much she should tell her. As soon as she answered Mary started talking, 'so what exactly happened between you and Sherlock last night then?

Molly perched on the arm of her chair and prevaricated, 'why? What makes you think anything happened?'

'Well for one thing John told me Sherlock walked you home, which I think we can both agree is very uncharacteristic of him. And secondly, he's just phoned John and informed him that he'll be holding a drinks evening at his flat next week...so? He didn't come up with that idea on his own.'

Molly felt a rush of relief that she hadn't realised she needed. If he was still going ahead with the party he couldn't be too mad with her or himself for what happened. If he had been he'd be trying to avoid her.

'I did mention how much I liked those events and he said he'd consider it if we all helped organise it.'

'Well we are. John said we'd go over and help put the decorations up tomorrow night and you're coming too.'

Molly bit her lip at the thought of seeing Sherlock again, 'are you sure you need me...I mean...I've got things to do tomorrow and three of you should be...'

'Molly Hooper don't you flake on me now, the whole point of this plan is to get you and Sherlock together. How can we do that if you don't take every opportunity to be where he is? So tomorrow night, Baker St, six o'clock!'

Molly smiled and fake saluted even though she knew Mary couldn't see her, 'yes ma'am.'

'And wear something sexy. Tight jeans should do, there'll be lots of bending over so we need to make sure he can see what a cute bum you've got.'

Molly laughed but promised.

'Great, I'll see you tomorrow then.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It had long been dark by the time Molly got to Baker St. She'd had an awful day having been called in on an emergency at eight o'clock that morning. She'd treated herself to a cab so that she had had extra time after work to shower and change in the staff room. She smelt of lemons which was always a good scent to remove that of the dead from her hair and skin. It had been so busy in work with autopsies from a car accident due to the ice on the roads, people never seemed to remember and reduce their speeds appropriately. It was the same every year and it never got any easier to deal with, especially so close to Christmas, Molly's heart ached for the five devastated families whose lives would never be the same again.

When she rang the doorbell of 221B there was a delay before Sherlock appeared to open the door, 'ah Molly you're here. Listen I wanted to talk to you before John and Mary arrive...'

He led her upstairs and into the warm, inviting flat complete with a flickering log fire. As he turned back to her to take her coat though he must have seen something to give him pause.

'What's happened?'

She tried to deflect, waving him off even as she could feel the tears pricking her eyes, 'no, no it was nothing just work. It's not important.'

He narrowed his eyes, 'you're upset so it is important. It was work but today wasn't on your schedule so not a colleague...a case then...no multiple cases. Your back and feet are aching which means you've been conducting autopsies plural, and you're upset so pointless deaths close to Christmas...car crash or house fire? No, wait... car crash. If it had been a house fire even the scent of lemon wouldn't cover up the smell.'

'Car crash, every year Sherlock. People just don't learn. I know I shouldn't let it get to me and most of the time I don't but...I'm sorry...' She felt a traitorous tear leak from her eyes and was surprised when Sherlock suddenly moved forwards and wrapped her up in a hug.

'Don't ever be sorry Molly, your compassion is something I envy.'

Molly closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing as her head rested on his chest, her arms wrapped around his back and she was suddenly aware that she could feel his muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. If this had been any other moment she would have been making the most of the opportunity but he was just being a good friend and she appreciated it.

Just as Sherlock was starting to feel himself reacting to holding Molly so close, the doorbell went again just before he heard John using his key in the lock. Sherlock frowned at the untimely intrusion wondering why he had invited the Watsons to help when he could have had Molly all to himself.

The previous night had been an eye opener for him. After he had returned from Molly's he had sat fully dressed on his chair in front of a burnt out fire, hugging his knees to his chest with his coat wrapped around him for warmth. He thought through his feelings and reactions to Molly. His mind had shifted from a theoretical possibility of a relationship with her to a knowledge that he definitely did want a relationship with her. In fact, now he had realised it he wondered why he hadn't considered it before, why had he not seen how right she was for him? He always missed something but this was huge.

He reluctantly released Molly as John and Mary made their way up the stairs and she turned away from him walking towards the kitchen as she dried her eyes.

'John, Mary thank you for coming. John, I think the decorations are all still in your room shall we go and retrieve them?'

John agreed and followed Sherlock after flinging his coat onto the settee.

Mary followed Molly into the kitchen and then realised her friend was upset, 'hey Molly are you OK? Oh My God what has that arsehole done now? I should have killed him when I had the chance.'

Molly smiled but shook her head, 'no, nothing. It wasn't Sherlock, it was just a bad case at work. He was...well he was really sweet, comforting me. And that was not funny! I still haven't forgiven you for shooting him.'

'Alright, alright...I'm sorry...again. So how's it all going are the signs looking good? He didn't give anything away to John earlier but then John's not the most observant guy on the planet.'

Molly considered, 'I suppose I'd have to say it's going well. I certainly feel as though more progress has been made that I'd ever thought possible at the start. But who knows with Sherlock.'

'Who knows what about me?' Asked the object of their discussion as he entered the room carrying an old, battered cardboard box which he deposited on the coffee table. He was soon followed by John carrying a similar box.

'Nothing, none of your business. Now please tell me you have a tree,' Mary wandered over to open up one of the boxes poking about at the contents.

'Yes, yes I had one delivered earlier. It's downstairs. John, we should be able to manage it between us.'

The men left the room again leaving Molly and Mary to giggle at their close call and start to unpack the boxes.

An hour later the tree was up and half-finished and John and Sherlock had just finished putting up holly wreaths and fairy lights around the front room. Sherlock had eventually caved and agreed to let them put on some Christmas music though he had put his foot down at pop music and instead they were listening to carols being sung by a cathedral choir which Molly had to admit were beautiful.

It was then that Mary's phone rang, as she picked it up she frowned, 'babysitter,' she said by way of explanation before answering as she walked out into the corridor.

They soon heard the concern in her voice and John quickly followed her out, 'sick...twice...when did you give it? No, it's OK you've done the right thing...yes...we'll be home in ten minutes...OK, bye.'

Sherlock and Molly glanced at each other as John and Mary came back in already looking for their coats and bags, 'I'm really sorry guys. Lizzie has been sick and is running a temperature, we need to get back.'

Molly moved towards them, 'yes of course. I hope she's OK.'

John came forward and kissed her cheek, 'I'm sure she will be, we'll text and let you know more when we get home. Take care. See you tomorrow Sherlock, I'll ring if I can't make it.'

As they left Molly nervously turned back to Sherlock already looking for her coat, 'well...um...maybe I should go too.'

'What! No, why? I still need help with the tree and we need to agree a date and invites. You're not going anywhere.'

Molly broke into a grin at his outburst, 'oh OK then...come on you can pass me the baubles to put on the tree. So when do you think is good...hmm Thursday is Christmas Eve and people often have plans, tomorrow and Tuesday are too soon so what about Wednesday, it gives us a couple of days to spread the word and see what food and drink we need?'

'If you say Wednesday's good then Wednesday it is. You'll need to come round earlier to help set up.'

'That's fine, I was thinking I might take the day off, I've got plenty of leave.' There was a pause whilst they worked together to finish the tree before Molly continued, 'so you seem at a bit of a loose end at the moment, no cases?'

Sherlock sighed and straightened up, stretching out the kinks out of his back and giving Molly a good view of his chest as he did, 'unfortunately not, there's been the odd smaller case but nothing substantial. It's boring, even Christmas is boring.'

Molly giggled, 'come on Scrooge McSherlock it's not that bad. I love Christmas it always brings out the child in me.'

Sherlock looked at her sideways and smirked, 'yes, I can see that.'

They stood back looking at the effect of the lights and the tree on the flat and Molly hugged herself wishing her own place had more of this Victorian charm. Hers was all modern and cheap and frankly just unwelcoming.

She sighed, 'right well, I'd best get on.'

Just as he had the night before he found himself wanting her to stay; to not part with her just yet. He turned to her feeling uncomfortably and uncharacteristically nervous, 'stay...please. Maybe share a glass of wine with me before you go? I spend so many evenings alone now since John moved out and ... I enjoy your company.'

Molly felt a warmth trickle through her body that had nothing to do with the fire. She smiled shyly at him, 'OK, I'd like that.'

Mmm so Molly and Sherlock cozying up in an empty flat, with wine and firelight and Christmas lights. What could possible happen now?