She couldn't stop her teeth from chattering. Glaring at Sherlock from over her cup of tea, she mockingly drawled, 'Come with me, Molly. It's only a six, Molly. What could happen, Molly?'
From his own cocoon of blankets, Sherlock scowled back at her. 'Is it my fault you tripped and fell?'
'Yes! Yes, it bloody well is!' She snuggled deeper into her blankets. 'If you hadn't coerced me into coming with you, I wouldn't have been chasing after a band of criminals and I wouldn't have slipped on that patch of ice, and I wouldn't have gone over the edge and into the bloody river!'
Sherlock huffed. 'Well, I went in after you, didn't I?'
Molly rolled her eyes. 'Oh, yes. You were a great help, what with that water-logged coat dragging us around.' She took a shaky sip of tea and mumbled, 'A bloody marvellous Christmas this is turning out to be.'
For a time, the only sound was the occasional shudder, their sips of tea, and the crackle from the fire.
'I'm sorry.' Sherlock said quietly, not looking away from the fire.
Molly sighed. 'I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten so mad.'
'I'm glad you're okay.'
She smiled. 'I'm glad you're okay, too.'
He looked over at her with a raised eyebrow and held open his blankets. 'So what are you still doing over there?'
With a smile, Molly scooted over to him. Sherlock settled his blankets over her, effectively wrapping them up together.
'Merry Christmas, Sherlock.'
He smiled and kissed her sweetly.
'Merry Christmas, Molly.'