A/N: Ok, I know I should be finishing Free Will House and Every Hunter Needs An Angel but I wanted to do a seasonal story and Sherlock is the only one that's messing around in my head. I just hope I can actually finished before the new year. (fingers crossed)
Anyway, I hope this doesn't suck too much, its my first Sherlock story. I love Sherlock and can't wait for the new season to begin. :D
Warning: Slight spoiler for The Great Game. Not BetaRead, will have spelling and Grammar mistakes so you have been pre-warned.
"Sherlock? - What's this?"
Holmes didn't look up from his computer, there was no real need, he knew just what his flat-mate was referring to, having heard him lift the thick card off the mantelpiece. He should have thrown it always the moment he saw it, or better yet burned it. But he couldn't be bothered to waste his time with trivial things like burning scraps of paper. – Unless it had some scientific use, of course. Which that certainly did not. He already knew how long it would take to burn to ash and what would be left behind. So he'd just left it where Mrs. Hudson had placed it. "What does it look like John." he sigh at such a ridiculously, pointless question.
John Watson was already reading the invitation with a mix of surprise and curiosity. The gold and white embossed invitation scream posh and well-to-do. Below the beautiful scribed 'would like to invite you to the annual Christmas gathering.' was written Sherlock and Partner. John ground his teeth, praying that didn't mean him. He was become more and more irritated by people's assumptions that he and Sherlock were 'together'. It had all started with Mrs. Hudson, who still after six month was convinced they were a couple.
At the top of the invite John noted the names of the sender. Percival and Mary Holmes. John frowned; he knew Sherlock only had one sibling, Mycroft, and that his mother had died years ago. So who was Mary?
"So what do you deduce?" Sherlock murmured with a smirk. If Watson couldn't figure this one out there was no hope for him what-so-ever.
"Well done. There is hope for you yet Doctor." Suddenly announced the rather smug, conceding voice of Mycroft.
"It was hardly the ripper case, Mycroft. – Mrs. Hudson could have figured that out." Holmes sighed, his gaze still not leaving the computer screen, his slim agile fingers taping away at the keys.
John wasn't sure if he should be thanking Holmes or slapping him. So chose to throw himself down in his armchair and sit back to watch the always amusing scene between the brothers… no, arch enemies.
Nothing was said. Mycroft just hovered around the apartment taking in his surroundings. It always made John think he was looking for something, though he couldn't think what. Sherlock did what he always did when his brother was present and frankly even when he wasn't, he sat in silence updating his website or researching something and ignored them.
Feeling the strain and boredom of the silence, John decided to speak. Even though he was more than sure he'd regret it. "Your step-mother, huh?" John looked between the two men. "You have a step mother?"
"Obviously." The men said in unison, causing John to have to fight back a smirk of his own. They were so alike sometimes that he wondered why he hadn't realised straight away that they were related.
"Poor woman." He laughed absently.
Holmes turned sharp eyes on his flat-mate. "I do not see why you would feel sympathy for a woman you have never met, John."
"Because I've known you six months Sherlock and you drive me crazy, Lestrade's known you five years and you drive him crazy, Mycroft's know you your whole life and you…" he looked to Mycroft who gave a smiling nod of consent. "…and you drive him crazy…basically Sherlock, I have great sympathy and respect for any woman who willing entered your family after meeting you." He laughed again, ignoring the narrowed glare he received from the slightly younger man.
"Sherlock was off at school when she met our father, so she wasn't fully aware of his… eccentricities." Mycroft added.
"My eccentricities?" Sherlock gasped.
Mycroft took a deep breath and looked at Watson. "He didn't meet her until the wedding."
"I'm surprised she didn't call it off immediately." John laughed.
It was so good to get one over on the great Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective. - And going by the increasing redness on the man's neck, he was getting really agitated by this conversation. Good. Watson thought.
"No… strangely she finds Sherlock adorable."
Sherlock returned to his website while John stared open mouthed at him.
"Adorable? – You sure she met him? – It wasn't another relative?" John asked.
"Mary is a lovely woman… if a little… overbearing." Sherlock grumbled.
Mycroft laughed. "You are just upset Sherlock because at every available opportunity she tries to matchmake, usually with disastrous results."
John saw Sherlock's jaw clench with a force his medical opinion would not advice. "She tries to set him up?"
Mycroft nodded and Sherlock growled deep in his throat, hitting the keys harder and harder.
"You date?" John gasped. "I thought you were 'married to your work'?"
"I am. – She tries. – That does not mean I go along with it."
John glanced at Mycroft and saw something soft pass over his features as he stared at his younger brother. To John it looked strangely like sympathy. – Of course that wasn't actually that strange. Mycroft Holmes was always looking out for his brother, whether said brother wanted it or not. Hell, he'd tried to bribe John to be a spy, just so he'd know how Sherlock was doing, though John doubted Mycroft actually needed a spy. – He had enough of those on his payroll.
Mycroft cleared his throat, breaking the tension in the room. "Well, you will not have to deal with that this year…"
"I know, because I'm not going. - I have a case to be working on."
"No Sherlock, you do not."
The brothers locked gazes.
"And how do you know?"
Mycroft shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and fiddled with his umbrella.
"You've got your minions hacking my system again, don't you?" Sherlock shouted furiously.
Mycroft simply shrugged once more and walked to the window.
"Well, case or not, I'm not going." Sherlock announced rather childishly.
"You cannot miss another Christmas Sherlock; you've missed the past three years, they are beginning to worry. - I realised you do not wish to be subjected to anymore of Mary's matchmaking, especially after…Which is why I made sure to tell Mary that you will not be attending alone."
John shifted in his seat. "What!"
Sherlock growled again, his gaze burning into his brothers. "Why did you tell her that?"
Mycroft glanced between the two men. "Obviously to insure that our loving step-mother does not try to set you up with anymore of her…" Mycroft took a deep breath. "…unsuitable relations."
"Wait… you told your step mother that Sherlock has a partner…" John glanced at the invitation and his gut tightened. "Who?" Don't say it, don't say it, and don't say it.
"Why you of course." Mycroft said plainly.
John dropped his head into his hands and groaned. "Why? – Why?" he looked up and fix Mycroft with a stare. "Why? – We're not in a relationship Mycroft and you damn well know it, we're just flat-mate."
The older Holmes brother laughed but didn't reply. He simply turned towards the door and started to leave pausing only long enough to inform them that a car would be sent for them in three days' time.
John groaned again and fell back into the chair. He'd had plans for Christmas. – Well, he said plans when what he really meant was sitting around watching Telly, avoiding his sister and maybe popping down the pub. He did not want to play 'boyfriend' for his flat-mates family.
"There is no need to look so distraught John. I have no intention of attending, no matter what Mycroft say."
John looked up at the strange edge to Sherlock's voice. You didn't need to be a consulting detective to know there was more to this case than met the eye. John suddenly realised he knew absolutely nothing about his flat-mate but that he was a genius who was married to his work and that women weren't his area, which obviously meant men were.
When they'd first meet, Sherlock had spouted the whole married to his work jazz and John had just accepted it. He never questioned Sherlock about his love-life. He'd just assumed he'd never had one. Though nothing about Sherlock Holmes cried virgin. Now he found himself wondering if maybe he should have asked a few questions, then maybe he'd understand what it was Sherlock was avoiding and what Mycroft had meant with that overly protective manner when reference to his step-mothers 'unsuitable relations'.
Sherlock got out of his chair and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"A walk." Sherlock grumbled.
John stared open mouthed as Sherlock left the flat; he flinched at the sound of the door slamming. Usually when that door slammed it was him desperately trying to escape Sherlock's chaos. It was unnerving having it being Sherlock who needed escape. John lifted the invitation and stared at it. He knew they'd end up attending the party. Mycroft wouldn't allow Sherlock not to, and Sherlock would obviously drag John along. So resigned to his fate John decided to take the opportunity to find out just who his flat-mate and friend really was and who it was he didn't want to see.
'The Case of Sherlock Holmes and the Mysterious Ex.' his mind titled it.
A/N: Thanks for reading :D I would love to hear what you think, as it'll help me with the story.