Evening came around and everyone was gathered in the sitting room, Rosie asleep in John's arms. The fire was crackling and Bing Crosby's White Christmas was playing on the radio at a low volume. Mrs. Holmes was showing Molly the family photo albums that included photos from an old beach trip and Christmases past. Eurus's pictures were also interspersed throughout now that Sherlock's memories were back.

Sherlock approached them where they sat on the sofa. Though Molly knew of his presence, she assumed he was there to keep his mum from showing too many photos, but that wasn't the case. Instead, he held his hand out to her. She looked up at him, meeting his adoring gaze, and took his hand. He pulled her upright and wrapped an arm around her waist snugly.

"Care to dance?" he asked her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Why, I'd love to," she smiled. Every step together was perfectly in sync. They danced their way across the sitting room, only aware of each other's presence. Molly let out a squeal when Sherlock spun her around and dipped her. From her viewpoint, she noticed the mistletoe right above them. That's when Sherlock caressed her lips with his. It was a soft, gentle kiss that left her wanting more. Bringing her back upright, a knock on the door sounded.

"Brother dear, you may want to answer that," Sherlock told him. Mycroft said nothing but a look of suspicion crossed his face as he went towards the door.

"What did you do?" Molly laughed quietly.

"I gave him his Christmas present," Sherlock replied. "Just wait and see." When Mycroft re-entered the room, Anthea was by his side.

"Sorry to intrude, but Sherlock called and said it was urgent," Anthea explained.

"Oh, you're not intruding at all!" Mrs. Holmes exclaimed. "Come in, join us!"

"You invited Anthea?" Molly asked. "For Mycroft?"

"He just needed a bit of a push," he shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"That was really sweet of you, Sherlock," she told him. Mycroft's eyes met his little brother's and nodded a silent thank you to him.

Long after everyone had gone to sleep, telling Rosie that Santa was coming, Molly still found herself unable to sleep. Sherlock lay beside her, still holding her hand as he dozed away. Slowly and quietly, she unlaced their fingers and slipped out of bed, heading down to the kitchen. She sat at the counter, toying with one of the cookie sheets, thinking about making some ginger nut biscuits. They were Sherlock's favorite after all.

When Sherlock woke to find Molly wasn't beside him, he ventured downstairs to find her. He stopped at the doorway of the kitchen, watching as she took ingredients out of the refrigerator; ingredients for ginger nuts, to be precise.

"Need any help?" Sherlock asked, making her jump and nearly dropping the butter. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"S'alright," she giggled. "Could you grab the sugar and flour?" He did as she asked and set them on the counter. He preheated the oven to 180 degrees Celsius just as Molly began mixing everything together. He could smell the ginger she added in and was already hungry for his favourite biscuits. As she mixed the batter together, Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, moving her hair aside to press kisses against her neck.

"Mm, how did I get so lucky?" he murmured, trailing his lips across her skin.

"Not a clue," she teased, "but you need to stop distracting me."

"Or what?" he instigated further. Molly turned to face him and dotted the tip of his nose with batter.

"Or things will get very messy," she laughed.

"Two can play at that game," he told her, sprinkling some flour in her hair.

"Oh, you've asked for it now," she warned him.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "Let's actually make the biscuits first." This made her laugh so hard, she snorted.

"Should've known you couldn't go without your ginger nuts," Molly remarked. Sherlock helped her roll the dough into balls and he watched as she put the tray in for baking. He thought she looked lovely despite the sprinkling of flour he put throughout her hair. It gave him visions of them starting a family and growing old together. Everything about her put him at ease. She was his home. Molly turned, locking eyes with him. Just seeing him in front of her made her feel happy. He was her home.

"So I was thinking—" she began.

"Marry Me."

"What did you say?" Molly asked, not quite sure she heard him right. Sherlock's eyes widened, realizing that the words just slipped from his mouth.

"Will you marry me, Molly Hooper?" he whispered, his lips ghosting across hers.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing," she laughed.

"So, is that a yes?" he asked, the most beautiful smile playing on his face.

"Yes, you silly man," she answered, snogging him properly.

"It must be Christmas," he quipped. A quick look at the clock showed it was after midnight.

"It most definitely is," Molly replied. They held each other in the kitchen, reveling in the small, happy moment. Sherlock would give her the ring when they returned to bed, but for now, he was content knowing she wanted him to be her husband.

Author's Note: Just one more chapter after this!