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It was the day before New Year’s Eve, and John walked into the room, clearing his throat. Joan looked up and Sherlock paused in his violin playing. “I was in the middle of a complicated piece,” Sherlock said with a slight pout.
“I decided not to throw a party for New Year’s this year,” he said. “Sally got an invitation to an art gallery opening tomorrow night, and we are going to attend that.”
Joan shook her head. “I have no clue what there is to do here in London. I know in New York you hit Times Square, but here? What do you guys actually do around here for New Year’s?”
“I agree with Joan,” Sherlock said. “I never celebrated the holiday traditionally before.”
“Good thing Greg and Molly have ideas,” John said with a grin.
“You told them before you told us?” Joan asked, raising an eyebrow.
John nodded. “Trust me. I think you’ll appreciate their ideas.” He went into the kitchen. "Sherlock, Molly will call you with the particulars. Joan, Sally got two more invitations to the gallery opening, and Greg said he might be interested.”
“I could do that,” Joan said slowly. “I do like art, after all. Do I need to dress up?”
John nodded. “It’s black tie. Greg was just waiting to find out if you were interested. Since you are, I’m going to meet him in an hour to find proper attire.”
“Guess I need to go buy a dress,” Joan said, standing up. “Any idea where to start?”
“Not a clue,” John said. “Fortunately Sally was going to go shopping in two hours. Call her and ask if you can go along.”
“All right, I will.” She pulled out her phone and left the room, holding it up to her ear as she got Sally on the phone.
Sherlock watched her for a moment, and then turned to John. “I’m surprised I wasn’t invited.”
“Sally only got four invitations, and in all honestly I think you’d be bored to tears,” John replied, opening the refrigerator. “Molly has a good idea. I doubt anything will go wrong for the two of you.”
“I should hope so,” Sherlock said as he lowered his violin. “Should I take it as a sign that we have not had a normal date any time we have attempted to leave either of our residences?”
“No. You just both have incredibly bad luck,” John said with a chuckle, pulling out the milk. “But trust me. I doubt anything will go wrong this time.”
“I hope so,” Sherlock replied.
--
Joan walked around the exhibit area the next evening. She had to admit, the artist was talented. All the art was for sale, but she couldn’t afford any of it even if she wanted to. But the food was good, and even though she was avoiding the alcohol she had to admit that was well stocked and it made the other people a bit more relaxed.
A late case had come up so she was here by herself at the moment. Lestrade had sent Sally on ahead, so she and John were walking around, taking it in together. It was nearly ten, and she was starting to worry she’d be alone when midnight hit. She took a sip of the sparkling cider that had been offered for those not wanting alcohol. At least the art was lovely.
She heard someone clear their throat behind her and she turned, giving the person doing it a smile. “You look quite nice tonight,” she said to Lestrade, who was in a tuxedo.
“Thank you. I feel like I’m being asphyxiated, but thank you nonetheless,” he said with a grin. “You look absolutely stunning, Joan.”
She chuckled and set her glass down on one of the tables nearby. “It’s probably because it’s too tight,” she said, moving over towards him. “Have you ever tied a bow tie before?”
“I try not to wear anything a suspect can grab and choke me with,” he said with a slight shrug as she undid it.
“Smart move for a cop,” she replied. “If I could get away with not wearing a scarf I would for that exact reason.” She began to fix it, and after a moment she dropped her arms. “Better?”
“Much.” He looked around. “So, what do you think?”
“About you or the art?” she asked with a smile.
“Both?” he asked.
“The art is lovely, and you look dashing.” He offered her his arm and she took it. “But I’ve already viewed everything here. I could probably point you towards the best pieces, if you would like a look.”
“A guided tour?” he asked with a grin. She nodded. “I would like that very much.”
“All right, then. There’s a nice piece just over here,” she said as they began to walk. At least she wasn’t going to spend the evening alone. That pleased her very much.
--
Sherlock looked around. He had never been the type to enjoy New Year’s Eve, not the way other people did. For him, it had usually been the end of one boring year and the beginning of another. He was a bit anxious that this year, while different, would amount to the same thing. But Molly had persuaded him that the street fair would not be a bad thing to go to, and he had to admit that she looked as though she was enjoying herself. That was the most important thing.
Molly took his hand in hers. “Enjoying yourself?”
“As long as you are, that’s the important part,” he said with a shrug. He laced his fingers in between hers. He did not mind this part. He had spent most of his life alone, and while he was still getting used to the fact that Molly liked to be close to him he had to admit he did not loathe the physical side of this relationship as much as he had thought he would.
She chuckled. “We can always go back to my home if you’re bored. I do have a decent view of the Thames for when they set off the fireworks.”
“You do live close by, don’t you?” he asked, turning to look at her.
She nodded. “Just a few blocks away. You know, there’s seating on the roof. I’m sure there will be other people up there, but you get a spectacular view.”
“If that’s what you would like,” he said.
She stopped. “I want to do something you like as well, Sherlock. What do you want to do?”
He thought for a moment, and then looked at her. “I believe I would like to go home.”
“Oh,” she said quietly.
Mentally he slapped himself. This had not come out the way he intended. “I don’t mean for the evening to end. I would like to continue to spend time with you. But I would like to do something for you, and to do that means I need to return home first.”
“Oh,” she said, and he could see her spirits lift immediately. “All right. Let’s go back to your home.”
He gave her a grin. Perhaps this evening might be more enjoyable for him after all…
--
“I’m quite bored,” Sally said with a sigh.
John chuckled. “I thought you were friends with the artist,” he said, putting an arm around her waist.
“I am. But she’s ignoring me. I suppose she has to, to sell her work and all, but she hasn’t even said hello to me and that irritates me to no end.”
“Well, that’s being a bad hostess, I suppose,” he said as Sally leaned her head on his shoulder slightly. “You know, we could always leave.”
“We could,” she said thoughtfully. “Where would you like to go?”
He was quiet. “Knowing Sherlock and his perpetual bad luck he’s probably at Scotland Yard for another disastrous date, or he’s home. And I’m fairly sure most places are filled to capacity or by invitation only. So I’m not sure.”
She lifted her head up to look at him. “We could always go back to my place,” she said slowly.
“We could,” he said with a nod. “I haven’t been there yet.”
“Good thing I cleaned it yesterday,” she said with a chuckle. She pulled away from him and offered him her hand. “Come on. Let’s go back and do something more interesting than this.”
“Define ‘more interesting,’” he said with a grin as she pulled him along.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she said. “But if you’re lucky, you’ll have a very interesting night.”
“I like interesting.”
“I thought you might.”
--
It wasn’t until a quarter till midnight that Greg took a good look around. “I see we’ve been abandoned,” he replied.
“Oh?” Joan asked, pulling her attention away from the painting she’d been looking at.
“John and Sally have left,” he said.
Joan looked around. “I didn’t even notice,” she said.
“I didn’t either. This is some exquisite art.”
Joan grinned at him. “If our first date hadn’t been at the National Gallery I’d be surprised you liked art.”
“So that was our first date?” he asked with a chuckle.
“I like to think of it that way.” She reached over for his hand. “There’s only fifteen minutes left in the year. Do you really want to spend them here?”
“Where would you like to go?” he asked.
“I heard there are fireworks over the Thames at midnight,” she said.
He nodded. “Most of the good spots are taken, though.”
“Well, maybe we can get a not so good spot and see what we can see.”
He thought for a moment. “I have an idea. Come with me.”
“What is this idea?” she asked, letting him guide her through the crowd.
“I think I’m going to abuse my authority for a moment,” he said with a grin. “I just need to find the gallery owner.”
“This should be interesting,” Joan said.
“I’m hoping.”
--
Molly clapped when Sherlock put down his violin. “You actually composed that yourself?” she asked, wide smile on her face.
He nodded. “I’ve been working on it the last month. I just finished it last night.”
“That was brilliant.” She picked up her glass and took a sip as Sherlock sat next to her on the sofa. “Has anyone else heard it?”
“John and Joan have heard bits and pieces, but you are the first to hear it completed.”
“I’m honored.” She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened. “It’s almost midnight!”
“How much longer?” Sherlock asked.
“Three minutes,” she replied.
He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it, a quizzical look in her eye. “Grab your coat.”
“All right,” she said after he helped her up. She went to the coat rack and got her coat and scarf, putting them on quickly.
Sherlock did the same, and then he took her to the back part of the flat. He went to one of the windows and opened it. “Climb out onto the fire escape.”
“You want to go up to the roof,” she said, realization dawning on her.
“You wanted to see the fireworks. We won’t get a spectacular view, but we should be able to see something.”
“All right.” They quickly made their way out, Sherlock pausing briefly to close the window, and then they made their way up to the roof. Molly turned around. “Where should we face?”
Sherlock went behind her and turned her towards the river. “That way.”
Molly leaned against him, and he put his arms around her slightly. She lifted up her wrist with her watch and looked at it. “Ten,” she said, beginning to count down. “Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” She turned and looked at him as the first firework lit up the sky. “Happy New Year, Sherlock.”
“Happy New Year, Molly,” he replied.
She looked at him and leaned in, kissing him softly, and all at once the fireworks were forgotten completely as he pulled her close and deepened the kiss. For the first time he had done something a normal person would do on this holiday, and it turned out well after all.
--
Sally opened up the door to her flat. “So. This is my place,” she said, moving out of the way so John could come in.
John looked around. “Very nice,” he said with a nod. “Very you.”
“Yeah, now that you know me better,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m fairly sure if you had come here before we started dating you would have been surprised that I had a place that looked like this.”
“You’re probably right,” he said.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, slipping her coat off as John shrugged out of his.
“No, that’s all right,” he said as he shook his head. When he got done he looked at his watch. “It’s a few minutes before midnight.”
“Ah,” she said, laying her coat on the back of her sofa. “Am I going to get a kiss at midnight?” she asked when she turned back to him, giving him a smile.
“I had planned on it,” he said. He moved closer to her. “Would you be too upset if I started early?”
“I wouldn’t be upset at all,” she said as he stepped in front of her. She put her arms around his neck and he settled a hand on each side of her waist. “Frankly, I wouldn’t be upset if it was more than just a kiss.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, though he still wore a grin. “Is that an invitation?”
“Yes, that is very much an invitation,” she said with a slight nod.
He leaned in closer. “In case I forget…happy New Year, Sally.”
“Happy New Year, John,” she murmured before leaning in and kissing him. When midnight stuck and the cheers went on outside, she began to lead him to her bedroom. This was a good start to a new year, she decided. At least, it was a better start then the year before, and for that, she was thankful.
--
Joan chuckled slightly as they finally got up to the roof. “I can’t believe you pulled out your badge.”
“I just can’t believe it worked,” he said with a chuckle of his own. “I thought for sure we’d have to watch from the street.”
“The threat to have an inspector come on the next business day was probably enough,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“A bit.” He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and settled it on her shoulders. “Now you’re going to be cold.”
“I can endure a bit of this chilly weather,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been in worse.”
“That’s a story I’d like to hear sometime,” she said.
“I can tell you now, if you’d like.”
She nodded. “Well, first, how long to midnight?”
He glanced at his watch. “Just about a minute.”
“Maybe we can watch the fireworks first. That’s why we’re up here, right?”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. He came up behind her and settled his hands on her shoulders. “If I don’t get a New Year’s kiss, I won’t be upset,” he said.
“I don’t know. I was kind of thinking it might be nice,” she said, turning to face him.
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
“It’s not like this is our first date. I mean, I’ve pretty much spent every night of the last two and a half weeks with you. You’ve been patient, and tonight is kind of special.” She smiled at him. “I think it’s a good time, at least.”
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” he said with a grin. She reached up and slipped her arms around his neck, letting his jacket fall down to the rooftop. “That’s a rental,” he said quietly.
“I’ll pay for any extra charges,” she said quietly as the people below began to count down to the end of the year.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, leaning in as the people below got to five. “Happy New Year, Joan.”
“Happy New Year, Greg,” she whispered before the revelers got to one. He kissed her softly, and for a moment she wondered what on earth had caused her to wait so long. This moment…this was a perfect way to bring in the new year. She just hoped that now that they’d done this she could get more kisses before she returned home because really, she’d been missing out.