Merry Christmas! I hope all your days are filled with love and warmth, whether you celebrate this day or not.

Something was poking her face.

Molly scrunched her nose and turned over, burrowing her face in the pillow.

The poker was not dissuaded and prodded her shoulder.

'Molly,' a voice whispered excitedly.

She waved a hand dismissively and with the other pulled the covers over her head.

'Molly, wake up!'

She held fast to the covers when they were tugged away and grumbled. 'Ten more minutes, Sherlock.'

'But Molly,' he whined. 'It's Christmas morning! And there are presents to be opened!'

Her big mistake was opening her eyes. Through the fog of morning sleepiness, she came face-to-face with her exuberant husband who was practically vibrating with excitement. And his beautiful eyes, which had tested her resolve countless times before, were wide and pleading.

Sighing, Molly narrowed her eyes at him. 'Someday I will be able to resist you, Sherlock Holmes.'

'I hope not,' he chuckled and kissed her sweetly. 'Now up, up, up! There's coffee on the stove and a new microscope waiting to be unwrapped!'

A gleeful grin spread across his face and he bounded from the room. Molly followed at a glacial pace, wrapped in the thick comforter, and blinking the sleep from her eyes.

As Sherlock plopped himself down at the foot of the tree and began rooting through the presents, Molly poured herself a cuppa and breathed in the heady smell of Mrs Hudson's holiday coffee mix, tinged with peppermint. She took a sip and practically purred in satisfaction.

Shuffling into the lounge, she leaned against the doorframe and smiled over the rim of her cup as Sherlock tore into the largest box.

The delighted surprise on his face when he realised she'd not bought him just any microscope, but a Phase Contrast Trinocular Microscope, was worth being awoken at 5:30am.

She giggled when he abandoned all the other gifts and hurried to set the box on the kitchen table, being sure to kiss her as he rushed by.

'Love you,' he mumbled against her lips, almost incapable of wiping the grin off his face.

Molly just smiled knowingly and left him to his new microscope. She took in the few gifts that were left under the tree; a few gifts for her, which she would open later, and a handful more from her to Sherlock (just a new scarf and a handmade book consisting of coupons he could redeem for body parts at the morgue.) A bit macabre, perhaps. But perfect for them.

As Sherlock exclaimed excitedly over each new facet of his microscope, Molly curled up on the couch, basking in the lights from the tree and the soft snowfall outside the window, and watched him until she drifted back to sleep, a smile of complete contentment on her face.