Chapter Text
It was Christmas and Molly could barely breathe. She was invited to a Christmas dinner by the love of her life, the one reason why her heart almost stopped in her chest every time she saw a mop of curly black hair and a tall lean figure walk into the morgue. His name was Sherlock Holmes, and she had been trying to build the courage to let him know her feelings for him since the moment they met, and tonight she was determined to do just that.
Molly took her new dress out of the wardrobe nervously and put it on very carefully, so as to not mess up her special hairstyle and took a look at herself in the mirror. She was a very modest woman but she felt no shame in admitting that she looked very good in her new tight, black dress, the little sparkling zircons decorating the top combined with the flower shaped pin in her hair and her big rounded earrings. She looked sexy and the sight filled her with new confidence in herself, confidence that she hoped not to lose in front of Sherlock as she always seemed to do.
Wrapping herself in a big, black coat and a brown scarf, she took the presents she bought a month ago and left her home, taking a cab to 221B Baker Street.
*********************************
Meanwhile at Baker Street, Mrs Hudson and John finished setting the table and fixed some minor details for the flat’s decoration. They had just finished when Sherlock finally emerged from his room in a dark tailored suit and The Purple Shirt that made John’s mouth water.
“Are you sure about this?” asked Sherlock after sharing a kiss with John, who had his arms wrapped around Sherlock’s waist and was placing little kisses around his neck.
“Of course I am, love,” said John, looking at him, apparently concerned. “I’m completely sure about finally letting the cat out the bag. They are our friends and I’m sure they’ll be fine with our plans for the future, and if they’re not they can piss off. Are you sure?”
Sherlock visibly relaxed, smiling and kissing him softly. “I am, absolutely, John. I was concerned about your reaction at the risk of rejection after,” Sherlock waved a hand between them “…this, but I’m happy to know it’s all fine for you… I love you.”
John was still surprised to hear the detective, who had so fervently claimed that “sentiment was for idiots and he would never have any interest in being a victim of such destructive chemistry” just a few months ago, was capable of saying such words to him full of the deepest love John had ever known, just as deep as John loved him back.
“I love you too, Sherlock.”
They let go of each other when Mrs. Hudson emerged from the kitchen carrying the heavy turkey. John hurried to help her, taking it from her hands and carrying it to the table while Sherlock took his violin and began to play in front of the window.
After about twenty minutes the bell rang and Mrs Hudson opened the door and their first invited guest came in—Lestrade, wearing a black suit jacket with a plaid shirt with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of presents in the other. John took both items on his hands.
“Hello, Happy Christmas everyone! I hoped not to be late,” said Greg, shrugging off his coat hugging John and Mrs Hudson and shaking hands with Sherlock. Not long after, the door opened again to reveal Molly. She surprised all those present with her appearance; she was gorgeous, or at least Greg seemed to think so going by the open-mouthed look on his face once he helped her out of her coat.
Molly’s hands shook as she handed the bag of presents to Mrs Hudson to put below the Christmas tree and blushed when kissing Sherlock’s cheek, but she did her best to cover for it, blaming the cold outside. After Mike Stamford arrived there was another short exchange of hugs, handshakes and greetings after which they all took a seat at the table, ready to enjoy dinner at last. When the time for the toast arrived, John and Sherlock stood up from their sets and began to speak, visibly nervous.
“So, first of all, I— WE want to thank you all for being here,” said John, raising his cup of wine and clearing his throat before going on with his speech. “This is a very special day for us, since it’s Christmas, obviously,” he said mimicking Sherlock, who let a small smile form on his lips, “—but also because we have some important news to give you all… the thing is that… Sherlock and I… we are-”
“We are a couple and we are getting married,” interrupted Sherlock, impatient as always. John let out a sigh and exchanged a look with him before facing their visitors again, waiting for their reactions.
“Well, it’s about time, John, I was suspecting my plan had failed after all,” said Mike with a huge smile and laughing at the questioning look on his friend’s face.
“Yeah, well, the wedding thing is kind of unexpected but I’m sorry to tell you guys that we all suspected you were a couple the moment Sherlock brought you to that first crime scene,” added Greg. Mrs Hudson, of course, had known this since the beginning; Molly, however, was sitting very silent, looking somewhat shocked.
*****************************
Molly´s heart stopped the moment Sherlock’s words left his lips; she could physically feel her heart being ripped apart, and she could hardly breathe with the pain in her chest, trying to keep the tears from falling. “That… that is great, boys, really,” she said, trying to fake a smile and keep her voice from shaking while she stood up looking down to the floor. “I’m so sorry, I just remembered, I had a thing… a commitment, and I just have to go. Thank you very much, see you later.”
Taking her coat and scarf she left the flat quickly, avoiding Sherlock’s stare and wiping tears from her eyes once she was outside, unable to contain herself anymore; Molly raised a hand calling a cab to her home, avoiding the worried look the driver sent her way while she couldn’t stop weeping in the back seat.
When she got home, she went straight to the small cabinet in the kitchen where she kept the bottles of liquor she had never even glanced at before and poured herself a glass of wine. She drained it and took the bottle with her to her bedroom where she turned on the TV, not really watching anything, she just wanted some noise while the wine worked its way through her system. She didn’t feel like changing her clothes so just wrapped herself with the duvet and let the tears stream down her face until she felt numb and empty. She just wanted to forget everything about this horrendous night.