Miss Hooper's flight has been cancelled due to inclement weather. MH

Why does that concern me? SH

I assumed you would want to be aware of the current status of your pathologist. MH

Don't assume, Mycroft. You know what the goldfish say. SH

Considering you are already an ass, I shall take the risk of being labelled the same. Though in this case, I know I am correct. MH

A car is waiting for you outside. MH

Merry Christmas, brother mine. MH

It was with a heavy heart that Molly let herself into her flat and dropped her bags to the floor. She leaned back against the door and tried not to cry. The flat was dark and lonely. She hadn't taken any of her Christmas decorations out of storage and had sent all of the gifts she'd bought for Matty and Jenna and the kids on ahead. To the US. Where they would be celebrating Christmas without her. Again.

Stupid snow. Stupid weather.

Her bottom lip trembled tellingly and she took a shuddering breath.

Knock knock knock.

Sucking in her breath, she wiped away the tear that had fallen and reluctantly turned around to peer through the peephole. A mass of something green blocked her view.

'Molly, let us in. This is rather cumbersome.' Though his voice was muffled by the door, Sherlock's baritone was unmistakable.

With a confused frown, Molly opened the door and her eyes widened in surprise.

Standing on the landing were the Watsons, carrying all kinds of holiday boxes and bags, their cheeks rosy and their hats covered in snow, and who she assumed was Sherlock, as all of him but his leather glove-clad hands were obscured by a huge Christmas tree.

'Merry Christmas, love!' Mary greeted her with a smile and a kiss before pushing past her into the flat. John kissed Molly's cheek and then followed his wife, the sound of bells jingling with every step he took.

'What are you- How did you-?' She stammered in shock as Sherlock shuffled inside and she had to step back to avoid being smacked by a pine branch.

'Do shut the door, Molly, you're letting the cold air in,' Sherlock drawled. Snapping out of her shock for a moment, she dutifully closed the door as Sherlock began barking orders to the rest.

'John, move the armchair. No, not that one, that one! Honestly, you're a right idiot.'

'How was I supposed to know which one?!'

'Obviously, I meant the one nearest the window. Who would put a Christmas tree against that wall? An idiot, that's who.'

'Look, mate, I'm not above shoving that tree up your-'

The boys continued bickering, leaving Molly to drift toward Mary, who was unpacking the multiple boxes and bags. Strings of fairy lights joined garlands and ornaments in one pile. Another pile consisted of what appeared to be aisle 7 of the local grocer: two bags of flour, powdered sugar, eggs, and more.

And at her feet was a large box overflowing with brightly wrapped gifts.

'Mind giving me a hand with the lights?' Mary smiled up at Molly and handed her one end of the strand.

'What are you all doing here?' Molly whispered, shooting a confused look at John and Sherlock, who were now struggling to affix the tree to the stand. John was on his stomach on the floor under the tree, while Sherlock held the tree up and demanded John to hurry up.

Mary smiled and began to untangle the lights. 'Sherlock told us you couldn't make it to your brother's for the holidays and we decided to bring the holidays to you. Oh, and you're coming over tomorrow morning to open gifts with us and the baby; Sherlock's parents are here, too. They won't let Charlotte out of their sight.' She smiled. 'Now, where shall we start hanging these? How about over the window!'

Speechless, Molly stumbled along behind her friend, still holding one end of the lights. 'Y-you all came for me?'

She glanced over her shoulder where the boys were now hotly debating with side of the tree should face the room.

'Why?'

Mary climbed up on the armchair and draped the end of the lights over the curtain rod. 'Because we love you, silly. Now budge up and give me a bit more slack.'

Warmth spread across Molly's chest and tears pricked her eyes. Blinking them back, she smiled and handed a few more feet of lights to Mary.

She might not be able to visit her brother for Christmas.

But she would still celebrate with family.