A week before Christmas, Sherlock had grudgingly accepted his mother's eighth consecutive invitation to spend Christmas day with the family after coming home to find all the furniture in the flat had been rearranged, in an annoying but rather impressive way, to spell out 'come home Sherlock' which wouldn't have moved Sherlock at all if it hadn't been coupled with a rather alarming phone call that John conveniently had to leave in the middle of to visit Harry.

After receiving several invitations from various important people from the different stages of his life, John was all set to spend Christmas bouncing from place to place between his friends from the army, the Yard and Harry that he hadn't been able to decide between.

Since Mrs Hudson would be visiting her sister and Sherlock had been either blackmailed or guilted into visiting his family, John knew that being a Grinch and spending Christmas alone in the peace and quiet he'd long since forgotten how to enjoy, probably wouldn't be an acceptable or healthy way to spend his holidays.

So John had mapped out a game plan.

He would spend Christmas morning relaxing then head to Harry's before she got the chance to get on the booze. Next he would meet up with his army mates at a pub one of them now owned and opened up on Christmas day for Orphans Christmas as a place for people who had nowhere else to go. From there he would go to Lestrade's place where a few mates from the Yard and Molly would be taking a break from their families festivities to spend a bit of time celebrating at Greg's.

After all that would probably check back in on Harry to make sure she was tucked into bed and not in an alcoholic heap or at least a danger to herself before going home and crashing, perhaps literally, for a good night's sleep in his own bed, all the while trying to be social around Sherlock's, no doubt, incessant complaints he would receive via text.

That had been the plan.

Had being the operative word.

Less than ten minutes after forming his Christmas day strategy he had been abducted off the street, sadly before getting milk, and informed by a very smug Mycroft that he would be accompanying his little brother to the Holmes's festivities, no negotiations.

Not that John didn't try. He wasn't really opposed to spending Christmas with the Holmes's, though the thought terrified him, he was actually a little curious, but he didn't appreciate being ordered what to do. Especially by Mycroft.

But all the elder Holmes did was smile, in his vaguely reptilian way, and stop the car right outside 221B, signalling John's dismissal, much to his irritation at being ignored.

Now to head up to the comfort of his flat to be ignored by his equally annoying flatmate.

When had his life turned into this? Really.

Still John was no pushover; he had absolutely no intention of blindly following Mycroft's orders about this whole Christmas fiasco until he at least checked in with Sherlock.

His incredibly lazy git of a flatmate was lying sprawled out over the couch in his usual sweatpants and dressing gown combination, groaning about being bored and sentimental murderers not striking so close to Christmas.

He didn't even look at John before stating flatly "Mycroft invited you to Christmas."

"Well yes, but-" John started only to be cut off.

"The idiot didn't know you were already accompanying me to mummy's for this pointless holiday" Sherlock said matter-of-factly, standing up suddenly and stepped over the coffee table, ignoring John's confusion, and slumping annoyingly gracefully into his armchair, whipping out his phone at the same time, no doubt to send some childish text to his brother.

John shook his head "I'm sorry" he said not feeling sorry at all "but when did I agree to go to your house with you for Christmas?"

Sherlock sighed dramatically and turned his best 'you're being deliberately obtuse' look, that John had got unnervingly used to, on him "I asked you yesterday after my phone call with mummy." He said as though every word of explanation was a favour to John.

"I left to visit Harry halfway through that phone call! I wasn't even here for Christ's sake!" John growled through his teeth.

"Did you?" Sherlock looked blankly up at him for a moment before shrugging noncommittally "Must have deleted it."

John rolled his eyes and moved to the kitchen to make himself a well-deserved cup of tea, pulling out two cups unconsciously, a habit that had proved to be quite painful during Sherlock's 'death' that he had broken then had to relearn upon his friend's return.

The cups had barely touched the surface of the bench top when Sherlock called out monotonously to him.

"You forgot the milk."

Given a choice, John wasn't sure which Holmes he'd like to throttle more.

Stop trying to tell John what to do. He's my friend. – SH

Learn to share Sherlock. – MH

No. – SH

Oh brother dear, when will you stop acting like such a child? – MH

Maybe when you lose some weight. - SH

A/N: I got the idea for Orphan's Christmas through one of my good friends who was nice enough to invite me to her family's version of it last year when most of my family were split up for Christmas. So I guess I will dedicate this to Ashley, thanks heaps my wiatch.

Yeah I know, bit late for Christmas, but hey who says I do things the conventional way. Thanks for reading. :)