Disclaimer: I still don't own zilch. This is getting depressing saying this every time. I wish I owned at least something.

Sorry in advance to anyone who lives in Australia, yours was the first country I thought of

A few more mentions:

Reflekshun: Thanks for all of your reviews, they mean a lot to me and I enjoyed sharing it!

XMillieX: As always thanks for all of you're reviews, you are a Christmas angel :-) Thanks so much and I hope to hear from you again someday!

And to everyone who read and reviewed: thanks for all of your reviews and I'll love to hear from you on any of my future fanfictions :-)

All I want for Christmas is you

Lesson 5: Giving gifts

Christmas day went pretty much how John had expected, h thought as he got up to clear the plates. Mycroft had come to drop off cards in the morning, much to Sherlock's displeasure.

"Hello John, Sherlock" Mycroft had said as he had come in, handing them both gift bags and cards, "Merry Christmas".

"Oh, yeah, hey Mycroft. Same to you. Er, are you staying?" John had said, not expecting the eldest Holmes brother to have invited himself in.

"No, I'm afraid not," Mycroft said glumly, "The Australian ambassador is having trouble again. There's no rest for the wicked I'm afraid."

"You can say that again" Sherlock sulked, "Why are you even here Mycroft, we saw you yesterday!"

"I didn't have time to go home and get stuff yesterday" Mycroft explained coolly. Sherlock folded his arms across his chest defensively.

"Anyway little brother, enjoy your Christmas with Doctor Watson. It's a while since you spent Christmas with anybody" Mycroft smiled debonairly.

"I'd spend more time with you if you weren't so annoying" Sherlock grumbled. Mycroft heaved a sigh. "He's always like this" Mycroft said forlornly to John who shrugged.

"Anyway, merry Christmas Sherlock. You too John, I will see you in the New Year once the Australian counsel have stopped bickering amongst themselves". Sherlock grunted in acknowledgment.

"Oh yeah, you too Mycroft," john said, shaking his hand. He had left at that, and Sherlock perked up as soon as we left, chattering away to John about a killer he had caught in Siberia once while John made the finishing touches to the Christmas dinner.

They spent the morning opening gifts from Mycroft and Lestraude and of course Mrs. Hudson who had knitted them jumpers, a maroon one for Sherlock, and a bottle green one for John, and watching reruns of Christmas Eastenders on the TV. Sherlock didn't mention anything of his efforts at keeping trouble to a minimum for John while they opening presents, so John just smiled and didn't mention it either.

Mrs. Hudson joined them for Christmas dinner at around 1 o' clock and brought trifle. To John's utter amazement, and Sherlock's for that matter, John's turkey didn't burn after all and even the vegetables turned out o.k. Not that Sherlock noticed, as he only ate the carrots and, after much prodding from Mrs. Hudson, a sprout.

"Bad news for brainwork" Sherlock had said, referring to the vegetables. John on the other hand merely felt that it was like, as Lestraude had said on their first case, dealing with a child. Sherlock had, of course, had seconds on his trifle.

John had been pretty amazed that Sherlock had eaten at all in fact. He hadn't eaten since two days ago however, and John guessed that Sherlock was celebrating the end of his last case with food, as was Sherlock's way. Come tomorrow John would be begging him to eat the leftover turkey and Sherlock probably wouldn't touch it for days to come, by which time it would be mouldy. John didn't like to imagine the amount of turkey sandwiches he and Mrs. Hudson would be having. Maybe he would bring them to the police station on the next case? It'd be a tad inappropriate, but the turkey had to go somewhere. Lestraude was probably going to beat him to it though, John thought despondently.

Mrs. Hudson had gone out to her friends soon after and it was getting dark outside. John was in the kitchen, washing up, and Sherlock was sat at the kitchen table that they had eventually managed to clear for the Christmas dinner, stuffing most of the stuff into Sherlock's room, which Sherlock had complained immensely about. John looked over as he heard Sherlock's phone buzzed and he looked over the younger man's shoulder as he flipped up his phone.

Tracked the group of criminals to hideout in central London. They're on the run, they heard about us finding them.

May need help.

Lestraude.

Sherlock sniffed, looking disgruntled, but John felt him looking as he turned around to clean up the dinner plates. Remembering his promise to himself about not bothering John over Christmas, as his own little gift, he sighed and typed:

Having Christmas dinner with John. Can't come. Good Luck with it.

SH

John turned round just in time to see the text as it left for sending. John felt himself smiling. Perhaps now was the time that he should give Sherlock his present.

"Hey, Sherlock" John said, coming to stand in front of the detective, "You probably won't admit it, but I've noticed you know. The tidying up, the missing body parts, the lack of experiments, you not taking that last case". Sherlock opened his mouth to protest but John held up a hand.

"And it was the best thing you could have done for me" he said. Sherlock's ears seemed to turn pink and John grinned.

"But, I'll tell you what. It's going to be my present to you. You don't have any more experiments or dead bodies around till January still and I'd be happy to go with you on the case tonight". Sherlock's face lit up. "Really?" he cried, leaping up.

"Really" John said. Sherlock grinned ecstatically and leapt to grab his coat.

"And a merry Christmas to you too John!" he cried, pulling on his coat. John sighed. So much for the normal Christmas he had planned.


A few moments later, John was chasing criminals once again through the nighttime streets of London.

"Come on John, keep up!" Sherlock cried.

"Easy for you to say, you do this practically every day!" John shouted to him as he ran. John managed a smile. Perhaps it's not exactly how I'd planned, John thought, but I really think there's nothing else I'd much rather do Christmas night. He looked up ahead at Sherlock running down the frost covered lane. Or for that matter, he thought, anyone else I'd rather share it with.


Sherlock contemplated the whole Christmas thing as he led John full speed through the streets of London. It's snowed, and people liked that, right? Sherlock still wasn't keen. Cold, wet and far too bright, Sherlock thought. And visiting Mycroft and mummy had been a nightmare. And cooking Christmas dinner had been more tiring than he'd expected. So why the big deal? It was just another time of the year. He felt John catching up behind him. His eggnog loving, Christmas crazy, ordinary, organized, caring plain old flatmate. Hiseggnog loving, Christmas crazy, ordinary, organized, caring plain old flatmate, Sherlock thought. He thought mildly of the fight over the skull, the snowball fight, John laughing at his Santa hat, falling asleep on the sofa and cooking the turkey together. And strangely enough, Sherlock couldn't wait till next year. Well, Sherlock thought, maybe Christmas wasn't so bad after all.


Final lesson: How to give gifts and hold Christmas close

Complete.

And so I bring us to the end of our angelic lessons my dear ones, and all has been learnt. I hope you keep Christmas I your hearts forever and remember to keep Sherlock somewhere special too! Merry Christmas!

Yours truly,

Storystuff