The Christmas scene
Sherlock*proud as hell of himself*: Jeanette! Ah, process of elimination.
Molly entering from the door.
Sherlock:*What the…? Makeup! Hair down! A ridiculous silver bow! Oh No! Under this thick coat there must be …*
Sherlock*shocked*: Oh, dear Lord.
Molly*smiling and shining*: Hello, everyone. Sorry, hello… it said on the door just to come up.
Everybody is greeting her.
Sherlock (rolling his eyes): Oh, everybody’s saying hello to each other. How wonderful!
Sherlock:*I need any distraction, I don’t want to see this coat taken off, I CAN’T SEE THIS COAT TAKEN OFF!*
John: Let me … HOLY MARY!
Sherlock (annoyed):* yup I was right, there is a sexy dress under this coat, which means … NO NO NO don’t go there now … just skip it!*
Molly (sweetly): Having a Christmas drinkies, then?
Sherlock:*ok stay cool and answer with a smile*
Sherlock (trying to sound cool and epic-ally failing): No stopping them, apparently.
Sherlock (sitting):*yessss the best distraction is John’s blog … let’s see what case he ruined this time*
Mrs Hudson: It’s the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me, so it’s almost worth it!
John to Molly: Have a seat.
Sherlock (laughing bitterly in his palace) : *oh don’t worry about that … she’s not staying for a long time … she got better things to do*
Lestrade: Molly? Want a drink?
Sherlock (huffing): and suddenly everybody is caring about Molly (he rolled his eyes)
Sherlock (trying to distract himself again): The counter on your blog still says one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five.
John (mocking): Ooh, no! Christmas is cancelled!
Sherlock *like I’m not suffering enough right now!*: And you’ve got a photograph of me wearing that hat!
John: People like the hat.
Sherlock *it’s ridiculous!*: No they don’t. What people?
Molly: How’s the hip?
Mrs Hudson: Ooh, it’s atrocious, but thanks for asking.
Molly: I’ve seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems.
Sherlock (crazily laughing in his palace):*oh my god that’s a good one*.
Sherlock (wide eyes): *alright maybe not for everybody’s taste*
Molly (apologetically): Oh, God. Sorry.
Sherlock (finally looking to her): Don’t make jokes, Molly.
Sherlock (eyeing her sexy dress and feeling his heart sinking)
Molly: No. Sorry.
Sherlock (eyeing her bags and feeling his heart sinking more and more):*a present wrapped in the same color of her lipstick, this is worse than I thought*
Molly to Lestrade: I wasn’t expecting to see you. I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas.
Lestrade: That’s first thing in the morning, me and the wife. We’re back together. It’s all sorted.
Sherlock (beginning to lose control): No, she’s sleeping with a P.E. teacher.
Molly: And John. I hear you’re off to your sister’s, is that right?
Molly: Sherlock was complaining.
Sherlock (looking to her disappointed): *come on now that, was private between us*
Molly: … saying.
Sherlock (rolling his eyes and whining): *yeah yeah whatever, why are you even still here asking everyone how you’re doing, don’t you have a (mocking) date you need to attend*
John: First time ever, she’s cleaned up her act. She’s off the booze.
Sherlock (having an irresistible urge to ruin everybody’s day and letting himself): Nope.
John: Shut up, Sherlock.
Sherlock: *ok time to put Ms Hooper out of her misery and let her reach the (mocking) date in time*
Sherlock (faking sweetly): I see you’ve got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you’re serious about him.
Molly: Sorry, what?
Sherlock (boiling inside): *oh don’t play shy!*
Sherlock: In fact, you’re seeing him this very night and giving him a gift.
John (trying to stop him): Take a day off.
Lestrade (putting a glass in front of him as another desperate attempt to shut him up): Shut up and have a drink.
Sherlock: Oh, come on. Surely you’ve all seen the present at the top of the bag perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best.
He stood up suddenly, wondering which lousy wrapped present was his.
Sherlock: It’s for someone special, then.
Sherlock (blood began to heat): *more special than me*
He picked the gift suppressing the need to toss it in the chimney.
Sherlock: The shade of red echoes her lipstick either an unconscious association or one that she’s deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has luuuuuve on her mind. The fact that she’s serious about him is clear from the fact she’s giving him a gift at all.
Sherlock (fire surrounding him in the palace): *she’s putting effort in this relationship, she’s serious about it, it means she’s over me*
Sherlock: That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn; and that she’s seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she’s wearing.
Sherlock (confused): *HOW IN THE HELL’S NAME DID I MISS THAT?! WHO THE HELL IS THIS MAN AND WHERE DID SHE FIND HIM?*
Sherlock (playing with the card of the gift): *now let’s see what is the name of the new psychopath you chose this time, I hope he won’t be worse than Moriarty.
Sherlock: Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breastssssssssss …
Sherlock (reading the card for hundred times, checking the name for thousand times): *Sherlock, my name is Sherlock, Sherlock is my name, this is my present, it’s me the luuuuve in her mind, god help me she’s putting three kisses, I’m the romantic attachment, love Molly, she loves me, me she loves, and I just (suddenly freezing in the palace) … ooooooh dear lord*
Molly (getting him out of his thoughts with her voice that felt like a knife stabbing deeply through his heart): You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always.
He tried to run as fast as he could, he wanted the floor to swallow him in this moment, but she was hurt, his Molly was hurt because of him, again.
man and fix what you just ruined* (he admonished himself roughly)
Sherlock(trying to find his voice): I am sorry. Forgive me.
He never apologized before, but the words didn’t feel weird, he was sincere.
Sherlock: Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.
She was very near, he could smell her perfume and the cookies she was baking, he couldn’t resist.
He leaned down to kiss her slightly on the cheek, he never imagined he would kiss her one day, there was no need to do so before or even now, but he just did, he wanted to, nothing could prepare him for the warm he felt around his heart, she was soft and warm, she was closer than ever, it felt good, it felt right.
An erotic moan heard around the room, pulling him away from his alien thoughts.
Molly (terrified): No! That wasn’t … I didn’t …
Sherlock (trying to pull himself out of this path and forgetting what he just felt, deleting it from his palace but failing, he convinced himself because it was new): No, it was me.
Lestrade (surprised): My God, really?!
Molly (still terrified): What?!
Sherlock: My phone.
He thanked The Woman internally for the perfect rescue in the prefect time.