Christmas with Sherlock (Sherlock BBC Fanfic)

December 30th, 2010

Current Mood: hot

Current Music: shhhhh

Timeline - ambiguous

AN - Dun-dun-dahhh! The mandatory Christmas Fic!


"They're closed?" Sherlock looked astonished, which only confirmed to John that his partner was truly blind to the world around him when there was a case in hand.

"It's Christmas, Sherlock, of course they're closed," John replied, refraining from rolling his eyes, "Come on. I got Mrs Hudson to lay some supplies in for us - I'll make dinner at home."

"But, you're tired," Sherlock whined, "I was going to feed you."

"Never mind," John soothed and led the way down the street, confident that Sherlock would follow him once he realised that John really was leaving. He'd learned several little tricks like this to manage his flatmate, especially when said flatmate had been disappointed in something and liable to sulk. Sherlock's idea of taking care of John was to drag him to various restaurants or to immobilise him on the couch and ply him with tea and biscuits - he didn't react well to being thwarted in those endeavours.

They'd been completely immersed in a rather twisted murder-for-gain case that had so many loose ends and false trails they'd needed to devote their full attention to solving it. Food and sleep had become something of a luxury for the last five days, but today they'd finally completed their case - the criminal was in custody and the evidence turned over to the proper authorities. Sherlock had subjected John to one of his sweeping looks and announced that they were going to dinner before hauling John to the Chinese around the corner from Baker Street.

"But... they're Chinese!" Sherlock protested and John smothered a laugh. Exhaustion was looming rapidly on his personal horizon and with it a fit of silly giggles.

"I'll forgo the lecture on the nature of Christianity and its tendency to span cultures and races indiscriminately," John informed his partner as the man hooked an arm through his, "And mention instead that just about every business in the world shuts down on Christmas Day."

"Ridiculous," Sherlock huffed and surged ahead to unlock the door for them.

Mrs Hudson was in the hall, and Sherlock pulled off the Christmas Greetings routine with aplomb - as if he'd known it was Christmas all along and had hurried back to Baker Street to share the season with his long suffering landlady. He even managed to accept her thanks for her gift without betraying his surprise. John, who had bought the gift and signed the tag from them both, grinned at her in a friendly manner and kissed her cheek.

"I put a little something extra upstairs for you boys," Martha said kindly. John smiled in real affection at their landlady - she put up with a lot from the two of them but was always game for more.

"Thanks, Mrs Hudson," he murmured, "Happy Christmas."


Upstairs in the kitchen, John decided pasta was a quick and easy alternative to nutrition and so started a pot boiling, grabbing a ready-made sauce from the fridge and popping it into the body-parts-free microwave. He turned to check if there was any cheese to add to the meal and bumped into Sherlock, who steadied him with two hands and peered at his face intently.

"I didn't buy you a present," the thin genius said solemnly.

"I didn't buy you one, either," John grinned, pushing Sherlock's hands away gently and rummaging through the fridge, "Are these toes really necessary, Sherlock?"

"Yes they are, and don't change the subject. You bought Mrs Hudson a gift, but not me?" Sherlock sounded faintly outraged by that and John grabbed what he needed and shut the door, turning to look at his partner.

"Mrs Hudson expected one. You didn't even know it was Christmas," John reminded him, "Besides, I didn't think you'd find it relevant or something. You're not religious - or if you are, you've hid it well."

"I'm not religious," Sherlock sniffed, "You're right, I suppose."

"If you're really that upset about it..." John frowned, "We could do Christmas on Boxing Day."

"No, I'm not upset. Your pasta is nearly done. I like mine without cheese," Sherlock reminded him and swept out into the front parlour, where John heard his laptop being booted up. Shaking his head, John moved to drain the pasta and add the sauce to it, making a mental note to stay away from the cupboard under the stairs where he'd hidden Sherlock's birthday present. With the consulting detective unexpectedly upset over a lack of Christmas present, he'd be likely to watch John to see if his birthday had been remembered.


Disclaimer - characters and setting as depicted in BBC series not mine. No money being made. Plot is mine.