(*full chapter title ...)

*It's Been Christmas Day For At Least A Week Now

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Boxing Day, The Cottage

Ignoring eye rolls from Mycroft had become second nature to Molly by now. Suspecting that Siger may have resorted to one behind her back was worthy of more serious consideration. Her father-in-law had finally given up and moved to the other side of the car to talk to Mycroft, who was already in the passenger seat. Molly met Siger's eyes over the car's roof and gave him an apologetic smile before turning back to Violet.

"Yes, Mummy –" [exchanging another hug and kiss] "… I'll call you later in the week, but we need to get going now. Back to work tomorrow, you know, and I want to be sure Mycroft has time to enjoy a good night at home." Molly had to bite the inside of her jaw when Mycroft turned a sudden choking noise into a cough. Another hug and kiss for Siger, then Molly got in the driver's seat and waved at her in-laws as she spun the steering wheel one-handed and took off down the long drive. She enjoyed the silence for several moments before giving in and glancing at Mycroft. She had felt the weight of his stare so wasn't surprised to find him twisted toward her, arms crossed over his chest. "What."

"Twenty minutes … at the car. At the car, Molly!" Mycroft groaned, then shifted around to stare out the windscreen. "We were home free and you let yourself be caught up in yet another conversation with Mummy." He shook his head, muttering, "Dear lord."

"I'm sorry, all right? But I actually like talking to Mummy."

"But three days of it, Molly!"

Molly had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his martyred tone. Thank god Putin couldn't hear him. "Come on, darling," she said, giving him a quick sideways smile. "You have to admit we had a fine Christmas. Even Sherlock behaved, relatively speaking." Of course, he'd also disappeared as soon as Christmas dinner was over, but he did at least have the courtesy to give them a call from Baker Street before they sent out a search party.

"I suppose so," Mycroft said thoughtfully. "At least he didn't shoot or drug anyone this time." He turned to look at Molly. "An unqualified success then."

Molly snorted, then gave him an affectionate grin. "Oh you."

#####

The next night in their sitting room

Home relatively early, a nice dinner leading to a quiet evening by the fire, his lovely girl lightly dozing against his chest, a favorite book in his hand, a glass of a well-aged Saint-Emilion at the ready …. Mycroft sighed contentedly at the perfection of the moment, then toed off his shoes before propping his socked feet on the coffee table. He turned the page and shifted his rear forward a smidgen to settle deeper into the sofa.

The silence was finally broken when Molly softly inhaled before rubbing her cheek on his chest. "Mycroft …"

"Hmmm?"

"Lady Smallwood called me today."

Mycroft tensed momentarily but forced himself to relax again. "And?"

"She asked if we're coming to her New Year's Eve party." Molly lifted her head to look at him curiously. "You haven't mentioned it."

He grimaced, looking at the fire. "Attending it has never been a command performance and I've previously chosen to decline the invitation."

"I thought you liked Lady Smallwood."

Mycroft snorted. "I've known her a long time, my dear, but our only real connection is the work." His eyes met hers. "I don't dislike her, but …" He paused and then his lips twisted. "What did she say?"

"She just told me about the party, said she hoped we could come – that she'd be pleased to see me again." Molly's forehead creased. "Why? Am I missing an important subtext here?"

He gave her a wry smile and dropped a kiss on her brow. "There's always subtext in my world, my darling." He pursed his lips, thinking. "In this case, perhaps there was less of it than usual. Lady Smallwood seems to like you." He held her gaze for several moments. "If you'd like to go-"

"Not really …"

"Molly." Mycroft said chidingly, then put the book on the end table and ran his hand over her hair. "If you would like to go, we can go. Knowing Lady Smallwood, it will be a large but generally … congenial" [he manfully suppressed a grimace] "gathering."

Molly rested her hand on his chest, frowning as she fingered a button on his waistcoat. "It's just that …"

"Yes?"

"We so rarely have an evening out – I'm not complaining about that, truly, but -" She paused to rub a hand over the small bulge of her stomach. "The closer this gets, the less I'll want to get out and then later there will be the whole babysitting issue."

Mycroft froze for a moment, struck by the fact that the issue of outside child care had to be addressed, and all the accompanying security concerns, no matter what Molly ultimately chose to do about work. Babysitting was not a concept he'd ever had to consider in practical terms – nor in theory for that matter. He glanced down again and cupped Molly's chin, studying her face. "I'll call Lady Smallwood tomorrow." They continued to look at each other silently for several moments, then Mycroft arched an eyebrow suggestively. "Now that you've distracted me from my book – mppfft." The rest of his nascent come-on was smothered by Molly's mouth.

#####

New Year's Eve at Lady Smallwood's

"Good god, Molly – va va voom!"

Molly turned quickly to face Anthea with a smile. "I didn't know you were coming!" She gave her a quick hug, then looked her friend over from head to toe, admiring the sleek black evening gown and upswept hair. "My dear, you do clean up nicely." They both laughed at Molly's poor attempt to copy Mycroft's deep tone.

"Truly, Molly - that dress makes you look …" She stopped, fanning her face exaggeratedly. "Whoa momma."

"You really like it?" Molly's dress was a departure from the vintage styles she'd worn to recent dress-up occasions. It was in pale peach silk, floor-length, cap-sleeved and more closely fitted to her backside and legs, but with a softly draped bust and an empire waist that didn't totally disguise her condition but didn't emphasize it either.

"Mmm. These last two weeks or so have been exceedingly kind to you. That pregnancy glow seems to have set in - radiant skin, lustrous hair …" Anthea paused to grab a glass of champagne from a passing server's tray. "Here's to hormones!" Molly returned her grin, clicked glasses and took a sip of her juice. "That dress really does display your blooming assets in a most pleasing manner."

Molly glanced down a bit self-consciously and raised a hand to the neckline. "It's not too low –"

"God, no! I'll bet a certain gentleman finds that hint of cleavage – you've got cleavage now, girlfriend! – enticing."

Molly flushed. "Mycroft doesn't pay much attention to what I wear."

"Don't let him fool you. He's a man, he notices." Anthea paused, pursing her lips. "Well, he does now. He notices you." She leaned closer to Molly. "This whole relationship thing may still be new to him, but I've seen his eyes follow you when he thought no one was looking."

"You have?"

"Mmm."

They both turned to look for Mycroft and found him standing at the end of the room, his back to the fireplace, seemingly trapped by his instinctive manners into conversing with several elderly relatives of Lady Smallwood. He glanced their way for just a moment, and Molly looked at Anthea. "Right. Let's go rescue him."

#####

A few minutes before midnight, just as Lady Smallwood began encouraging the guests to gather around the champagne fountain for the countdown, Mycroft placed a discreet hand on Molly's back and ushered her out of the room, down the hall and into a small sitting room. She glanced around, then looked at him curiously. "How did you know this was here?"

"Lady Smallwood and I have had tea here a few times over the years after meetings."

Their heads turned toward the closed door when they heard the countdown start, then Mycroft took hold of Molly's hips and pulled her against him. Molly slipped her hands around his neck and lifted up on her toes as their eyes met and held. "5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … mppfft."

Their lips parted after a light-hearted celebratory kiss, and they slowly smiled at each other. But after a few quiet moments, Mycroft's eyes narrowed, Molly's breath caught, then their mouths slammed together, their holds tightened and the room's temperature seemed to soar. Their tongues thrust slowly and deeply, and Molly moaned. Mycroft abruptly pulled away, drawing a long breath while Molly stared at him, wide-eyed. After several charged moments, she stepped closer and pressed her cheek against his chest, and Mycroft slowly exhaled through his nose, then rested his chin on the top of her head. "Happy New Year, my darling girl."

Molly smiled at the rumbling vibration of his voice under her ear. "Happy New Year, Mycroft."

Ten minutes later, they rejoined the party and slowly moved through the ballroom, looking for Lady Smallwood. Anthea appeared beside them, brows raised. "Have you seen Lady Smallwood?"

"Not for a while, sir, but I overheard the butler telling her about a problem with the catering staff. She may have gone to the kitchen."

"Thank you, my dear." He glanced past her and nodded at the agent she'd been dancing with. "Now go enjoy your evening." He and Molly started to walk away, but he paused and turned back. "Happy New Year, Anthea."

When they finally located Lady Smallwood, she was enjoying a quiet moment with William Haverton in the large conservatory. Mycroft cleared his throat, and the two of them turned toward the door and smiled. "Sorry to disturb you, Lady Smallwood, Bill, but we're about to leave and wanted to wish you a Happy New Year and thank you for an enjoyable evening."

The older couple came to meet Mycroft and Molly in the center of the room, then Lady Smallwood took Molly's hands. "I'm so happy that you came, Molly - and not just because Mycroft finally had to accept an invitation." She smiled when Molly chuckled.

"Thank you, Lady Smallwood. We've have a wonderful time." Molly grinned at their hostess, then her eyes shifted to the famous actor. "It's none of my business –" She rolled her eyes at Mycroft's snort. "Anyway … I just wanted to say I'm very happy to see the two of you together – I mean, together together." Molly ignored Mycroft's chiding "my dear" as she looked from one of them to the other, uncertainly. "That's right, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is," Bill said as he took Molly's hand, before looking at Mycroft. "May I?" The next thing Molly knew, Bill had given her a light kiss on the cheek, leaving her blushing and just a teensy bit starry-eyed. "Happy New Year, Molly." He gave her a kind smile, then reached for Lady Smallwood with his left hand and held his right out to shake Mycroft's. "Happy New Year, Mycroft." He glanced at Molly's middle then raised his eyes to hers. "Elizabeth and I wish you both great joy in the coming months."

"Thank you, Bill." Mycroft rested his hand on Molly's back. "Thanks again, Lady Smallwood." He waited while Molly echoed him, then turned her toward the door. They hesitated after a few steps when Lady Smallwood cleared her throat.

"Mycroft," she said firmly, then continued when he turned back. "After twenty years, I think it's time you started calling me Elizabeth. You too, Molly." She glanced at Bill, then smiled at the younger couple. "After all, it's the beginning of a new era for all of us … eh, Mycroft?"

Mycroft turned to smile at Molly, then lowered his gaze to rest on that small bulge, before looking at their hostess and lifting his chin in acknowledgment. "Indeed it is … Elizabeth."