This is my first time writing for this AMAZING fandom so I'm sorry that Sherlock is a *little* out of character. I'm still trying to figure out how to write him. And as much as I love the pairing, this doesn't have any slashiness in it, but you could read it that way if you wanted to :P
THIS SHOW IS SO AMAZING OMG I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT SEASON. *FLAILS*
Special thanks to Jenn1984 for giving me that little extra push to finally sit down and watch it (read: demanding I watch it xD) the other day and for being there for me to flail with about its awesomeness once I did. And sharing all her favorite fics and vids. And for writing AMAZING Sherlock fics. (Go check her out. Now. You won't regret it.) *glomps her*
And special thanks to Hutchster for being the John to my Sherlock :) (in the non-slashy way :P) *glomps her*
Disclaimer: Not mine. I am sooooo not clever enough to make a show THIS amazing :P
It was a bitter mid December day in London and much to Sherlock's disappointment, it seemed the intelligent criminals of the UK had taken a holiday. There hadn't been an interesting case in almost two weeks and Sherlock was going mad with boredom.
"Why don't you come Christmas shopping with me, Sherlock? John offered as he buttoned up his coat over his festive reindeer jumper.
"Christmas shopping?" Sherlock repeated, nose wrinkling in disgust.
"It can't be any more boring to you than sitting around the flat all day," John reasoned.
"True," Sherlock nodded. He leapt from his seat and retrieved his coat and scarf from the closet, throwing them on quickly. "Let's go."
John just grinned and shook his head, leading the way down the stairs.
They strolled along the street in a comfortable silence, John window shopping and Sherlock people watching.
"Affair, affair, lost his job and hasn't told his wife, affair," Sherlock said in a bored tone, naming off all the things he deduced about the passers-by. "Why do people even marry anymore? They're just going to cheat on one another and divorce."
"You're not even looking for gifts?" John asked, stopping them in front of a store.
"Why would I?" Sherlock asked, honestly curious as to why John would think he'd do that.
"Because it's Christmas," said John, sounding as though he were growing tired of explaining to Sherlock what normal people do. "At least get something for Mrs. Hudson, she gave us gifts."
Sherlock sighed. "Fine."
"Why are you such a scrooge?" John asked curiously as they started walking again.
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly religious."
"Yes, but it's still the season of giving."
"I've never had anyone to give to. Nor have I ever received."
"What about your brother? You've don't exchange gifts?"
Sherlock scoffed.
"What about when you were younger?"
"What about when I was younger?"
"Did you ever make Christmas gifts for Mycroft or your parents?" asked John, watching Sherlock for his reaction. For one fleeting moment Sherlock's eyes turned sad. Anyone else would have missed it, but not John. "Didn't you at least get a visit from Santa?"
"We never celebrated the holidays," he said, putting on a casual tone that John knew was fake.
As they passed a toy store, John watched as stopped Sherlock and glanced into the window. He stopped beside him and followed his gaze, taking in the window display that was nothing short of magical. Trains charged on, weaving in between dolls and bears and every other kind of toy imaginable. And they were all classic, not one modern toy in sight. Just the simple ones that required imagination. John smiled when he looked into the store behind the toys and saw a man dressed as Santa with a little girl in pigtails on his lap. He glanced at Sherlock and was surprised to see a look that was similar to longing in his eyes that he had never seen before. But before it was gone in a flash, just like every other emotion the man showed, John was able to catch him staring at something in particular in the window and followed his gaze. He looked back up in time to see Sherlock turn and start back down the street, leaving him standing there watching his friend walk away.
Then an idea struck him and he grinned.
A few minutes later he ran to catch up with Sherlock down the street. Sherlock looked at John as he slowed back down to a walk beside him.
"Where were you?" he asked.
John just smiled as he caught his breath and held up a non-descript shopping bag. "Found a gift for someone."
"And that makes you happy? Giving?"
"Giving gives you a wonderful feeling, Sherlock. You should try it one day."
Sherlock just scoffed again and turned back to look ahead as they continued to walk, another comfortable silence falling over the pair.
When Sherlock stepped out of his room on Christmas morning, the first thing that caught his eye was the snow falling heavily outside the windows lit by a string of colored lights. The next thing was the Christmas tree that John had insisted they put up. It was actually quite beautiful.
John had spent two hours putting the thing up and decorating it, he had even gotten Sherlock to help. He would never admit it to anyone, but Sherlock had actually liked untangling lights and hanging brightly colored ornaments from the branches. Perhaps it was the company he had enjoyed, but either way at least he hadn't been bored that night.
And finally, he noticed it. Sitting on the floor beneath the tree was a small box wrapped in shiny green paper with a red ribbon wrapped around it. The wrapping was neat, a professional job. He would have known that without any deduction skills, John was a terrible gift-wrapper. Curious, he walked over and bent to peer at the tag.
Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, Sherlock! - Santa
Sherlock's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment until it clicked in his mind. John's question about his getting a visit from Santa, John disappearing for a few minutes after that conversation, the fact that John lived there and would be able to slip a gift under the tree in the middle of the night. It was quite obvious who had left it here.
Before he knew it, he was smiling.
He sat down in his chair and loosened the ribbon carefully, letting it fall to the floor. Slowly, savoring every moment, he lifted the lid and pulled back the red tissue paper. Lying there in the box was a simple blue yoyo. Not just a yoyo but the one he had seen in the store window. It was a simple toy but he had found it greatly entertaining as a child. No matter how much he played with it, there were always new tricks to figure out and learn. He pulled it free of the paper and sat the box on the table beside him, looking the toy over.
John slowly made his way down the stairs, a robe over his pajamas. As he reached the bottom of the stairs and was about to step into the living room something caught his eye and he stepped back behind the wall quickly so not to be seen. He peered around the corner, his brows raising to his hairline at the sight before him. Standing in the middle of the living room with a goofy, excited grin on his face that he only wore when he had an exceptionally exciting case, was Sherlock, doing all kinds of tricks with his new yoyo. John just smiled, pleased that he had made his friend so happy. He truly loved giving.
~The End~