So when I first posted this on here, I totally forgot a few things. First off, thank you so much for taking the time to read this story! I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did writing it!
Second and I believe the most important thing:
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or Molly. If I did you best believe they would be canon with all the adorableness. Or at least Sherlock would be a hell of a lot nicer to her!

Once again, thank you and enjoy!

The snow was falling harder than she had anticipated when Molly walked out from Bart's. Winter had come with full force and kept the idea of a white Christmas alive and well as the days counted down. Christmas Eve found Molly finishing up late that night, finally done with all the paperwork that had been piling up. That was the one thing she absolutely hated doing. Give her a body to do an autopsy on any day. She could learn from that body, discover new ideas, or have her mind completely boggled by a mystery until she found the answer. Paperwork, however, could reduce her mind to complete mush. It was such a boring and tedious task that she would hold it off as long as she could. There were no autopsies today, so the bloody paperwork had to be done.

"Please have snow and mistletoe, And presents on the tree…" The sadly melody of Bing Crosby filled the cab as Molly looked out the window. "Christmas Eve will find me, Where the lovelight gleams. I'll be home for Christmas, If only in my dreams." Molly's mind began to wander to a certain 'dead' consulting detective who was currently God-knows-where fighting against that web that Moriarty left behind. Where was he? Was he safe? Did he even know what day it was? Was he still even alive? Molly shook her head at the last question. Of course he was still alive. She really couldn't handle the idea that Sherlock could be lying dead in the snow somewhere.

"Here we are, miss!" The cabbie's voice brought Molly right out of the potential horrible train of thought. She smiled and handed the cabbie the correct amount with an extra ten for tip.

"Thank you! Merry Christmas!" "Merry Christmas!" Molly smiled as the cabbie drove off. She opened her apartment door to find an overly vocal cat.

"All right, all right. I'm getting your bloody food. And a merry Christmas to you too." She tossed her keys onto the table and hung up her coat before feeding Toby. Once she had settled down in her comfiest of pjs, cat fed, Chinese takeaway reheated, and a glass a wine next to her, Molly took her place on the couch and turned on Christmas music. The sounds of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Ella Fizgerald and others filled her apartment as the soft glow of her tree filled her with warmth. Christmas Eve night was always like this for her family. Her mother loved her Christmas tree so much that Christmas Eve night she would have the family in the living room, no TV., just music, and no lights other than the tree. They would all bask in the tree's glow all taking in the wonderful sight and impatiently waiting the next morning. The tradition kept going even after her mother died, and she kept it alive after the death of her father. She loved the white and red theme of her tree, but it was the sight of red and cream under the tree that caught her attention. She had only a few gifts from friends. Mrs. Hudson's was the blue and silver. John's was the green—that one surprised her the most, but glad that she had decided to get him a gift anyway—Lestrade's was the fun Santa print. This red one was completely new. Molly got up and picked up the small package. Who in the world? She looked at it with a deducing eye, hoping to do Sherlock proud as she tried to figure out the gift. Lifting it to her ear, Molly breathed a sigh of relief at the silence. "Oh stop being so silly, Molly Hooper!" The small box gave no real indication of what exactly could be inside. "To hell with this, it is almost…" she looked up at the clock. "Well, it is Christmas so why not?" Molly gingerly tore the gift open and gasped at the item inside. The gift was a snowflake necklace. The pendent was silver with twists steaming out from the diamond in the middle. Each twist had its own two diamonds attached to different sides. It was simply, but still quite beautiful. There was no note, nothing to indicate who sent it, but Molly knew. There was only one person who would be able to place a gift under her tree without her notice. Her heart swelled at the thought of Sherlock. The gift represented more than just a gift. It was his way of letting her know he was still alive, still working, and that she still counted perhaps more than she initially realized. Molly placed the necklace around her neck, the cold pendant resting against her aching chest. Leaning back into her couch, she wrapped her blanket closer.

"Merry Christmas, Sherlock."

Sherlock watched Molly from the shadows on her fire escape. He had bought that necklace specifically with her in mind. Its beauty was over looked, but memorizing once it caught your attention. Why he felt the need to purchase, he really had no indication. However, he still got the necklace and made sure that the wrapping would match her tree and on a subconscious level, match the same red of the gift she got him the previous year. Who would have imagined that a year from then that he would be the one giving Molly Hooper a gift on Christmas? Or that she was the only one who knew that Sherlock was still alive but hell bent on destroying Moriarty's web? When he told Molly that she counted, he truly meant it. It was mindboggling to him that she would believe that she didn't count. She had proven her worth more so now than ever. More than once while his stay aboard, he had thought about her and whether she was safe and sound. Lately, Sherlock had found his mind trailing to new thoughts of being with Ms. Hooper handing her the gift himself. He actually wanted to see her face light up at the sight of the gift. There was a part of him that even wondered what it would feel like to hold her close to him and to feel her lips on his. Now though was not the time to act upon those sentimental thoughts. Sherlock settled with just watching Molly as she played with her new necklace while listening to the radio. However, the time had come for Sherlock to leave. There was new information on a potential lead that he had to deal with that night. Watching her for a few more seconds, Sherlock finally descended down the stairs. Maybe next year, he would be home for Christmas. He would be at 221B with Mrs. Hudson, John and his new girlfriend, whoever she maybe, and Molly at his side. This year, he'd be there in his mind. Sherlock flipped up his collar and looked back up at her window one last time.
"Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper."