"Are you going to join us, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked his brother. The Holmes parents and Molly were decorating the tree, as they had waited for their sons to arrive to do so.

"When have I ever participated in trimming the tree?" Mycroft asked.

"All throughout your childhood up until Eurus was taken away by Uncle Rudy. I am getting my memories back, mind you," Sherlock smirked. "You can no longer deny certain things."

"Why don't you pay more attention to Miss Hooper?" Mycroft told him.

"Just because you won't let go of your damn pride and tell Anthea how you really feel, doesn't mean you should take it out on the rest of us. I learned my lesson a long time ago," Sherlock huffed. "I'm going to finish decorating with our parents and my girlfriend. Just consider joining us and help me make this a good Christmas for her. Do it for Molly." He turned to see Molly laughing at whatever his mum had said to her, hanging an old childhood ornament.

Molly's eyes widened when she noticed Mycroft approaching with Sherlock to help with the tree.

"Nice of you to join us, son," Mr. Holmes told him, handing him an ornament. Stories were told, laughter was abundant and Molly was enjoying herself. Sherlock was too, if he was being honest. Christmas had been his favourite holiday as a child, and even with his darkest memories back, he wanted to embrace that magical feeling again.

When evening came around, they all gathered in the sitting room to watch Holiday Inn and White Christmas back to back. It was a family tradition and one that Mycroft enjoyed the best. Molly also had grown up with the classics, falling in love with them at a young age.

Sherlock ran his fingers through her hair, paying more attention to her than the movies. She looked happy and relaxed, but something kept niggling in the back of his mind. Despite her contentment with how the holiday weekend was going, he felt that maybe he shouldn't move so fast. After all, this was a gathering Molly had been hesitant about because she hadn't trusted him enough to not, as she put it, be a Scrooge about Christmas. So, how on earth would she ever trust him to make her happy and to be a good husband? These are the same fears that had him talking with his father late at night after everyone else was asleep.

"I just don't think it's the right time," Sherlock sighed. "What if she's not ready and she says no?"

"Answer me these two questions, son," Mr. Holmes began. "Are you ready for such a commitment?"

"Yes, of course I am," Sherlock replied without hesitance.

"You are, I can tell," Mr. Holmes smirked. It was the same smirk that Sherlock had. "If Molly isn't ready, though I'm sure she is, would you wait until she was ready?"

"I would wait lifetimes if it were possible," Sherlock answered. "If she chose to marry me the day before I died, I'd still be a happy man."

"A bit morbid, William, but your heart's in the right place," Lydia Holmes's voice spoke suddenly. "Didn't mean to eavesdrop, but your father knows I can't sleep without him." It was at that moment they heard soft footsteps come downstairs and Molly appeared beside Mrs. Holmes.

"Sorry to interrupt, but are you coming to bed soon, Sherlock? I can't quite sleep without you," Molly spoke softly.

"She's ready," Mr. Holmes told his son in a hushed tone.

"Sorry, ready for what?" Molly asked. It was up to mummy to save the conversation.

"Ready for bed, dear, of course," Mrs. Holmes covered for her husband and son. "After all, Father Christmas will come 'round soon."

Though Sherlock was now holding her in bed, spooned around her, Molly's mind was too awake. She knew he could sense her overthinking, but unlike other times, he didn't complain about her thinking too loudly. He was being patient with her, she could tell.

"Sherlock?" she called out quietly.

"Hm?" he mumbled against her neck. Molly shifted to turn around and face him.

"You know I love you, right?" she asked. "I mean, truly, unconditionally love you."

"Of course I do, Molly," he smiled. "I hope you know the same rings true for how I feel towards you."

"I know," she assured him. "I just wondered if you knew that I love you no matter what. I'm always yours, Sherlock. Always."

"And I am yours," he replied. "Always." They settled into a deep sleep. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and John was going to bring Rosie along. It was to be a lovely family gathering.

Author's Note: Something's up with Molly...do you think she suspects his fears or do you think she's having fears of her own?