DISCLAIMER:Sherlock and all it's characters, etc. belongs to BBC, Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss and its brilliant cast. I am only playing with them. No money is being from this story!

Author Note: So I carved a few pumpkins today, and as I did I imagined what it would be like if Sherlock was there carving too...and this little nugget was born. I dedicate this to my most wonderful friend and fellow fangirl, Adi, who is Adi Who Is Also Mou. Go read her stuff, she's awesome!


Of Pumpkins and Carving Knives

"Come on Sherlock, we're all doing one! You have to make one too," John ordered the sulky detective who was curled up on the couch in his tattered blue dressing gown and pajama pants. He helped Mrs. Hudson clear away the usual mess of books, beakers and empty take-away dishes from the table and set out some old newspapers in their place.

"Oh Sherlock, why can't you clean this mess now and then? I told you company would be coming later..." Mrs. Hudson fretted, trying to straighten up the disordered kitchen.

"Sorry, Mrs. Husdon," John said sheepishly. He hurried about the kitchen, helping her out the best he could before the company arrived. He threw a glare over at Sherlock, who was staring at the ceiling. "And for heaven's sake, Sherlock, put on some clothes! They'll be here any minute—"

John was interrupted by the tinkling of the doorbell and the sound of people coming up the stairs. He glared once more at Sherlock, who hadn't moved a muscle and hurried to the door.

"Oh hello Mrs. Hudson! Hi John." The bright voice of Molly Hooper filled the kitchen. "I brought the pumpkins, I've got two here, but the rest I had to leave at the bottom of the stairs," she said a little breathlessly.

"I'll get them," said John, jumping into action. "Hello Mary." He smiled warmly at his girlfriend, Miss Mary Mortsan, who was standing behind Molly holding an enormous pumpkin.

"Thank you John," Molly said gratefully.

Mrs. Hudson bustled over. "He's such a thoughtful young man, isn't he? Oh, you can put those right here, dear." She gestured to the newspaper-covered table and counter. The girls set down their pumpkins with a small sigh of relief.

Molly slid a bag off her shoulder. "I brought all my old carving kits," she said excitedly. "I think there are knives enough for all of us, and some scoops for the inside..." she trailed off as Sherlock suddenly appeared in the kitchen. Molly took one look at him in his dressing gown and blushed. "Oh, um, hello Sherlock," she stuttered, studiously avoiding looking at his bare chest.

Sherlock ignored her stutter and nodded. "Miss Hooper, Miss Mortsan." He then addressed Mrs. Hudson, who was busy separating the carving knives. "Tea, Mrs. Hudson?"

She pursed her lips and tutted. "I'm not your housekeeper, Sherlock! And anyway, we are carving pumpkins. And that includes you, young man! We can have tea and biscuits afterwards." Molly's eyes widened at the sight of the older woman scolding Sherlock like a little boy. Mary stifled a giggle.

Sherlock frowned. "I think not, Mrs. Husdon."

"Is he still refusing?" asked John, who chose that moment to re-enter the kitchen carrying the last two pumpkins. All the women nodded. John gave him a look. "Oh come on, Sherlock, how bad can it be? It's not as if you have anything better to do."

"I can think of many better things," said Sherlock petulantly.

John rolled his eyes, but surprisingly it was Molly who burst out, "But it's Halloween, Sherlock! It will b-be fun." She blinked her large brown eyes at him imploringly.

"I see no point in cutting silly images in the side of a large fruit in "celebration" of All Hallows Eve, which is a senseless holiday in any case," Sherlock deadpanned.

Molly visibly deflated, but Mary cut in. "It's not senseless! It's all for a bit of good fun. You do know what "fun" is, don't you Sherlock?" John grinned at her fiery retort. She had been around Sherlock long enough to know not to take any crap from him.

Sherlock snorted. "Of course I do. But carving pumpkins is not what I'd consider "fun." Besides, why should why should I get my hands sticky merely for the sake of something that is only last a week at most?"

At this John immediately scoffed. "Seriously, Sherlock? You're whining about getting your hands sticky? You experiment with dead things, yet you complain about a bit of pumpkin seeds and juice?"

Sherlock looked indignant. "Hardly, John. Besides, my experiments have a purpose. Carving pumpkins does not."

"Does too!" said Molly, gaining her voice back. "They're lovely decorations and the kids love to see them when they go out trick-or-treating!"

Sherlock waved a hand. "Another senseless activity. And boring. Hardly worth my time."

"But," Molly started, but John waved her off.

"Never mind him, Molly. Let him sulk. Pumpkin carving is obviously beneath him. He probably wouldn't be very good at it anyway." Molly looked downcast, but nodded and set about getting her pumpkin ready to carve. John watched Sherlock carefully out of the corner of his eye. As predicted, he swelled up indignantly.

"I never said I couldn't carve a pumpkin, John. I merely said it would be a waste of my time."

John shrugged and picked up his own pumpkin and a carving knife. "Semantics. I don't think you can do it, Sherlock. You obviously are afraid of making a fool of yourself." Molly and Mary both hid smiles, immediately catching on to what John was trying to do. Mrs. Hudson clucked and shook her head. She picked up her carving knife and began cutting a hole in the top of her pumpkin.

Sherlock's lips tightened and he turned and left the room without a word. Molly and Mary looked after him in disappointment, but John just went about cutting a hole in the top of his pumpkin, acting as though Sherlock had never left. "Best get to it, girls," he said. Together they shrugged and picked up their knives.

They had barely started scooping out the insides of their pumpkins when Sherlock stormed back into the room wearing jeans and a pain grey t-shirt. "I'll prove it to you, John. And when I'm finished, then you can tell me I'm afraid of making a fool of myself." He snatched up a carving knife and strode over to the last pumpkin, stabbing into its top with unnecessary force.

John put his hands up in a defeated gesture. "Whatever you say, Sherlock." He exchanged a significant look with Mary and Molly, who were both looking on with great amusement. Ms. Hudson simply sighed happily.

For the next hour only the sound of carving knives cutting into pumpkin flesh and the solid "thunk" of chunks of pumpkin being cut out into odd shapes and dropped to the floor was heard in the flat. Of the five of them, Sherlock seemed to be concentrating the most intensely. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was set in a firm line of determination. John kept making faces and shaking his head, Molly was biting her lip, and Mary had her tongue out as she carved. Mrs. Hudson moved in practiced movements that spoke of many years of carving practice.

Finally, with Sherlock finishing up last, the pumpkins were ready to be lit. When the lights went out, there was a collective gasp of "oohs," from all the women. John nodded proudly at their creations, and Sherlock smirked in satisfaction. He turned to John, who was staring at Sherlock's pumpkin with a look of surprise. "What is your conclusion, doctor? Have I made a fool of myself?"

John snorted. "Not yourself, just the rest of us. Have you done this before?" In the last hour, Sherlock had managed to carve an incredibly detailed and honestly frightening demon into the side of his pumpkin. It cast strange shadows on the walls and cabinets in the kitchen.

"That's incredible, Sherlock!" Molly gushed, and Mary agreed.

"A little scary, though, dear," said Mrs. Hudson mildly.

"As it should be, Mrs. Hudson. Halloween is after all, a night of fright," Sherlock said smugly. He realized the rest of them were looking at him expectantly, so he looked at their creations as well. John had made a simple but well-cut face with pointy teeth, a typical Halloween-y type design; Mary had cut a slightly more complicated witch flying on broomstick, Mrs. Hudson had skillfully made a frightened ghost, and Molly had surprisingly made a difficult looking scarecrow. Sherlock nodded. "My deduction is that all of our pumpkins have been carved with skill to achieve satisfying results. They should provide optimum visual stimulation for people passing by our flat."

John rolled his eyes, Molly smiled in amusement and Mary said, "So...they're good?"

Sherlock gave them a small smile. "Indeed, Miss Mortsan. Very good."

John grinned. "I knew you would enjoy it, Sherlock."

Sherlock looked indifferent. "I merely enjoy proving you wrong."

John nodded and his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Sure, whatever you say, Mr. I-can-carve-a-pumpkin-better-than-you." Sherlock didn't dignify that with an answer.

Mrs. Hudson chose this moment to speak up. "Well I think they are all wonderful. They'll look so good on our doorstep for trick-or-treaters. You'll be helping us pass out candy too, right Sherlock?"

The horrified look on Sherlock's face was all it took for John and the girls to dissolve into laughter.


Author Note 2: I'm thinking about continuing this with a few more one-shots of Halloween adventures with Sherlock. What do you think? Should I do it? Tell me in a review!