221c - A Sherlock Fanfiction

John

Over 300 reads in less than a day? OMG, you guys are the best!

Cheers!

-Lai

"Hello, Mrs. Hudson!" I chirped, beaming at the elderly woman. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas, John! Happy Christmas, Mary!" The woman showed us inside and up the stairs to 221b, opening the door. Mary and I stepped inside, her with the baby, and me with the bag of presents Mary and I had brought.

Allison and Sherlock were sitting on the sofa, holding hands. I gave a little gasp of surprise, and quickly covered it up with quite a bit of coughing. I knew however, that coughing wouldn't fool two geniuses.

They both gave me curious looks, before Allison started laughing. Sherlock elbowed her, and she quickly changed her laughing into coughing, before letting go of Sherlock's hand and standing up.

"Hello John, hello Mary, Happy Christmas!" she chirped. "John, would you like a little help with those presents?"

"Sure, that'd be great!" I grunted, under the weight of the bag. Together we pulled the presents out and arranged them under the tree of 221b.

"There we are," she said, straightening up and putting a hand on her back, wincing. "All done."

I smiled at her. "Happy Christmas, Allison. And to you as well, Sherlock." The detective just sort of grimaced, not saying anything. I set my jaw. I hoped he wouldn't be like this all evening.

The doorbell rang. "That'd be Lestrade and Molly, most like." Sherlock called. Mrs. Hudson got up and answered the door. Soon, I could hear the Detective Inspector and the pathologist on the stairs, talking.

THey came in through the door, and Allison and I chirped at the same time, "Happy Christmas, Greg! Happy Christmas, Molly!"

Molly chuckled at our unison. "Happy Christmas to you two as well." She set a couple of presents down by the tree, and Greg followed suit.

"Happy Christmas John," he said, and then called louder over his shoulder (quite passive aggressively, if I might add), "Happy Christmas, Sherlock, thanks!"

"Whatever." was the Consulting Detective's only response.

Allison rolled her eyes, and walked over to the sofa where he was lying. Putting her hands on her hips, she gave him a look and said, "C'mon, Sher, that's not very much in the Holiday spirit!"

He gave her a look, sitting up. "Do I have to be? I feel like there's enough cheer around for all of us. I don't need to be spirited as well."

She plopped down next to him. "Fine." was her only response.

After we had opened presents, we sat around talking and drinking. Allison had gotten me and Mary a cute framed picture of me, Mary, and the baby that we had taken a little while ago. I got a book from Greg and a cool fountain pen from Molly. From Mrs. Hudson, both Sherlock and I had received gallons of milk. I found it quite humourous, Sherlock did not. From Sherlock I had received a book on botany. Not exactly sure why. Everyone else had received presents of similar kind, yet I could not help but notice that Sherlock and Allison had not gotten each other anything.

A little bit later, I asked Allison about it. "So, did Sherlock get you anything? I didn't see you give him anything either."

She looked down with a small smile on her lips. "He got me these," she said, twirling a pair of emerald stud earrings she was wearing. "He also got me a deerstalker, which was quite funny, and a song."

I cocked my head, a bit puzzled. "A song?"

"Yeah, he wrote me an apology. Through music."

"Oh." I said simply, but inside I had a million conflicting emotions. Since when does Sherlock formally apologize? Since when does he write people songs? Okay, there was that one time where he wrote that one song about Irene Adler- oh.

Oh.

Oh.

I should have known.

He was in love with Allison. There was no other explanation for this bizarre behaviour. Well, he wasn't acting quite odd at the moment, but giving people presents was not his thing.

"I got him a scarf." she said, interrupting my train of thought.

"Nice." I responded, absentmindedly.

We were soon absorbed in the drinking game Never Have I Ever. It was quite fun, even Sherlock played.

I could tell, however, that Greg was trying to get Sherlock to take a shot. The DI kept giving us random and bizarre things, but Sherlock seemed to have done every one of them. Finally, Greg resorted to one about romance. "Never have I ever.... Had a real girlfriend." Now of course, this was a total lie, seeing as Greg was married, but he was hoping to get Sherlock to take a shot, and was resorting to cheap shots.

All the women reached for their shot glasses, knocking them back. Sherlock's remained untouched. Greg's eyes bugged, and then he thought for a moment. "Sherlock, Janine doesn't count. You used her to break into Magnussen's office."

"I know she doesn't count, Lestrade." Sherlock said cooly.

I grinned. Was Greg really this thick? I cleared my throat. "Greg, Sherlock has a girlfriend." the effects of the alcohol were slurring my words. I really needed to stop playing this game.

Greg's eyes bugged again. "Whaaaa?" Okay, it was definitely the alcohol impeding his ability to reason clearly.

"I think that my husband's talking 'bout Allison," my wife offered. Greg's eyes widened and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Mrs. Hudson, who was holding the baby, interjected.

"Y'know, you all should really stop this foolish game. Of course Sherlock and Allison are boyfriend and girlfriend! Really, Greg, of all people, you should have seen that."

"What? Why me of all people?"

Mrs. Hudson gave him a look and left the room.

I coughed. "Y'know, maybe we should stop playing this game. I don't want to have that horrible of a hangover tomorrow."