"JOHN!"
John popped out of the kitchen with a mug of tea. "Oh good you're home!"
"What's the meaning of this?" Sherlock shifted two-year-old Margo and Cynric in his arms to better face John. They were dressed in identical Christmas-green jumpers smiling up at their Poppa who was acting terribly silly.
"We are taking a family photo today." John said nonplused drinking his tea and making faces at the smiling pair.
"What for?" Sherlock's eyebrows creased to match his pout.
"They are going to want pictures when they're older!"
"We don't have any baby pictures and it hardly effects our life."
"Well I'm sure we do somewhere." John waved a hand at Sherlock. "Besides I'm thinking about sending out a Christmas card this year."
"No."
"Oh come on! I even made sure your jumper was tasteful!" John stooped to pick up a folded hunter green turtleneck on the coffee table. Sherlock's eyes went wide as saucers and the children squealed with laughter.
"Absolutely not"
"But Sherlock-"
"John, I am fond of you surely, but nothing is worth that sort of humiliation."
John pouted hugging the rejected jumper to his chest. "Sherlock-"
"Nothing."
….
Mycroft strode to his awaiting car, 'Athena' as John still habitually called her, at his side.
"What of the post this morning dear?"
"Summery typed of replied letters in your e-mail, post from the Prime Minister personally attended to and something else." Mycroft turned to his 'right hand' with a raised eyebrow. She smirked before handing over a glossed postcard. "It's in John Watson's handwriting."
Mycroft's step faltered as he stared at the family photo framed in a cheesy Christmas boarder. John sat smiling like he'd caught the canary with a distracted Cynric on his knee. Sherlock was holding a content Margo with a slight scowl on his face. John and the twins in matching jumpers of course and Sherlock in a tasteful red button up. Mycroft smiled wickedly, flipping the card over to read. 'Couldn't get him in the jumper. But I think the agreement was 20?' Mycroft let out a low chuckle before pulling his phone from his pocket. He dialed one Harry Watson, the phone picked up to hysterical laughter.
" I think I may have underestimated John Watson." Myrcroft said into the laughter as he tucked the photo carefully into his pocket.