It was the same dress.

He didn't want to admit it at first. He stared at her longer than was strictly necessary trying to confirm it, but the evidence before him was obvious.

It was the same dress.

The same dress from the infamous Christmas party.

The one where he humiliated her.

His cheeks burned with the memory of it. So often, he was so focused on proving himself right, so dedicated to showing off, that he completely bulldozed those around him. For the longest time, he discounted the feelings and emotions of others.

A mistake that he was determined to rectify.

She caught his intense stare and began to stammer and smooth down the skirt of her dress self-consciously. "I . . . I didn't have anything else to wear."

"You look beautiful, my dear. You always do." He held out his arm for her. "Shall we?"

She nodded, a smile blooming over her face as they began to walk towards the little bistro where he'd reserved a table. "Our first date. And on Christmas Eve."

"What better gift than your presence?" He quipped.

000000

Dinner passed far too quickly for Sherlock's taste. He could have spent hours in her delightful company, drinking in every word. He chastised himself for all of the months he'd waited, all the months he'd wasted without her.

They walked arm in arm back to her flat. She pressed against him, protesting the cold, but he knew the real reason. He couldn't bear to be apart from her, either.

At the door to her flat, she turned to him, a shy smile on her face. "Well, it's been lovely night."

"That it has," he replied and he bent down, cupping her left cheek. Their lips met in a chaste kiss, softly brushing against each other. She tugged at him, pulling him even closer and he responded by deepening the kiss. She smelled of vanilla, the scent tickling his nose. Her nails lightly scratched the back of his neck and it sent shivers down his spine. Her breath became ragged and her eyes were unfocused when they finally parted.

"That was . . ." she began.

"It certainly was." He gave her a sly smirk.

"This has been the best Christmas ever," she declared with a dreamy grin on her face.

"It's not quite over yet. I had something delivered to your apartment."

"We weren't going to exchange gifts until tomorrow. I haven't even wrapped yours," she protested.

"My present won't wait till morning," he said. "We had better go inside."

She fumbled with the lock to her door and gasped when she saw a huge wrapped box with a red bow on it in the middle of her living room. She lifted the lid and her eyes began to well with tears. "Oh, Sherlock."

"I heard about Toby's passing. And well . . . I . . . thought . . . perhaps . . ."

Molly lifted up the small gray kitten which mewled in protest as she held him in her arms. "He's perfect, Sherlock."

"No, my dear, you are."

And the smile on her face as she looked at him was the best Christmas present Sherlock had ever gotten.

Author's Note- This is from a tumblr prompt from mel-loves-all. I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are my favorite Christmas presents.