A Very Merry Johnlock Christmas

Chapter 1

A/N: So here's my first attempt at writing Johnlock fanfiction. It may fail miserably but fingers crossed. (Just a warning, if I say anything stupid and American sounding I'm sorry and you can leave a comment and I'll fix it).

John's P.O.V.

"December."

After not speaking for hours, Sherlock got up and put on his coat.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"December, John!"

With that, he rushed down the stairs and a second later I heard the door slam behind him.

It's not like this was new behavior for Sherlock. After a year of being flat mates, I've gotten used to him storming off in a rush and leaving me confused. At first I was annoyed by his hours of silence, but I now use them as the only time I'm able to get anything done.

"The...?"

Why am I so rubbish at coming up with names? I'm at a complete loss for what to name the blog post about our latest case involving the seemingly unrelated murders of an esteemed journalist and a slob of a shop owner. Defeated, I walk to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

~later~

No sign of Sherlock. It's been 6 hours since he left and I'm not expecting him to get back anytime soon. I also know he's not expecting me to wait up for him to get back. Although it gives me a change to have some peace and quiet, I do worry when Sherlock leaves like this...

~the next morning~

When I got up, I checked Sherlock's room. He still hasn't been home. I sit in my chair and decide to watch crap telly while I'm still waking up. I end up getting sucked into the over-acted drama and it's nearly noon by the time I go to get dressed.

"What? No! I can't believe it he just broke up with Cassandra because he cheated on her with Alison! He can't start dating Alison to make her jealous! How could he do that?"

I angrily turn off the bad show and walk upstairs to my room.

"John!"

"Sherlock? Is that you?"

"No John, it's Mrs. Hudson. Don't be stupid of course it's me."

I stomp down the stairs and start to yell at Sherlock.

"You left without a word yesterday and don't come back until early afternoon? You could have said where you were going or when you would be back or..."

"I never tell you where I'm going."

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. I really was worried about him. Whenever he stays out all night is when he gets into trouble.

"A text would have been nice, Sherlock."

"I am sorry, John. I seem to have upset you more than usual."

Sherlock reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box that was poorly wrapped in newspaper. It had a shoe string tied around it in a bow. I started at it bewildered.

"Who are you and what have you done with Sherlock Holmes?"

"I wanted to do something to make up for last Christmas with Molly... It was a bit not good on my part and I want this year to be better."

"I think she's the one who should get an apology present, not me."

"John just take the present."

Sherlock Holmes had given me a Christmas present. In all this time, I'd never seen him get a gift for anyone. I started to feel bad when I realized that I hadn't bought him anything yet. I just shake my head and laugh.

"Do you not like it?"

"No it's not that, it's just... I never expected you to buy me a Christmas present."

This proves that he cares. Other people say that he's a psychopath and doesn't care about anyone, but he really does pay attention. Maybe, just maybe... No. You do not have feelings for him, John. Besides, this is all completely platonic friend stuff. Friends buy each other Christmas gifts. That's it. Sherlock wouldn't be interested in anything more than the friendship we have now.

I push those thoughts out of my head and place the gift on the mantle next to a few others from Mrs. Hudson, Greg, and even one from Mycroft that Sherlock will probably refuse to open.