Christmas at 221B
"Sherlock, can you give me a hand?"
The clash of Sherlock's bow scraping against violin strings interrupted the quiet of 221B Baker Street. He removed the violin from under his chin and looked up to glare at John Watson.
"No," he pouted.
"Oh, come on, Sherlock! Don't be such a child." John rolled his eyes. He shook the string of Christmas lights held tight in his fist. "I could really use some help."
"I'm busy," Sherlock said flatly. John climbed down from his tiny step ladder. Just as Sherlock raised the violin to his chin, John reached out and placed his hand on the fingerboard.
"Surely you're not too busy to help a friend," John smirked. "You've been playing for ages and you need a break. Besides, the flat won't decorate itself."
John knew that his argument wasn't great. That's why he smiled so broadly when Sherlock stood from the couch and stretched his bony limbs.
"What can I do?" The consulting detective asked with a sigh.
An hour later, 221B was a whole different world. Snow fell softly outside the window that was framed in lights. An artificial Christmas tree sat in the corner, covered in metallic tinsel that John loved but Sherlock thought to be tacky. A fire roared in the fireplace and just above it, two stockings hung warmly. They bore the initials S.H. and J.W. Sherlock first disliked them when John had them made, but now, as he stood back and admired the flat, he noticed that the cozy fixings had grown on him.
He turned his attention to John, who was adding the final touches around the living room. He held a shopping bag filled with Christmas decorations and, upon noticing Sherlock watching him, he reached into the bag and fished out a Santa hat. He turned to the skull on the mantelpiece and placed the hat squarely on top of it. Sherlock couldn't help but giggle.
"Oh, I nearly forgot!" John grinned, still chuckling. "I bought this earlier today," he said as he walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and scanned its contents until he found a bottle of eggnog. "I thought it would make the decorating more fun."
"How did you know I'd help you decorate?" Sherlock watched him pour the milky drink into two glasses.
"I know you, Sherlock Holmes," John smiled. "Probably a little too well."
He carried the glasses to where Sherlock stood in the middle of the living room. Together, they sat down on the couch. Watson handed a glass to Sherlock.
"Cheers," he laughed, clinking his glass with Sherlock's. They drank in unison and when the pulled back, Sherlock noticed that John had eggnog just above his upper lip. Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed John, licking off the eggnog.
"Oh," John mumbled as Sherlock pulled away. "Um, what… what was that for?" He was obviously shaken, which pleased Sherlock.
"You had eggnog on your lip," Sherlock smiled. "I was just helping a friend."
The two men sat smiling at each other in the warm silence as the snow fell on London around them. Neither one really cared about Christmas, but they both knew one thing.
This Christmas was going to be fun for both of them.