AN: Normally I wouldn't do a seasonal fic, but this particular plot tribble wouldn't leave me alone. So- in warning, this will be slightly crack!Humor and I may not update frequently, but I'll endeavor to finish this before January *shifty eyes* So, happy holidays! Or whatever you're celebrating.

The Adventure Of The Christmas Cracker

Chapter I

It was the day before Christmas Eve. London was ensnared in the festive season, late Christmas shoppers thronging the streets as carols rang out in a battle for ears, minds and wallets.

Christmas is a time of peace, joy, and goodwill. A time to meet family and friends and put aside grudges, a time of rest and happiness.

So reflected John Watson as he sprinted after Sherlock Holmes down a dark alleyway, ducking bullets as they chased an armed burglar who had decided that Christmas was the season for taking.

When the burglar was safely under arrest and Lestrade had grudgingly thanked the pair, John went straight back to 221b. Sherlock stayed out until that evening, although he didn't say where he was and somehow John didn't think that he was buying Christmas presents.

John occupied himself by wrapping gifts for Mrs Hudson, Sarah and Lestrade. He hadn't bothered to get anything for Sherlock since Sherlock would not have bothered to get anything for him and would probably have thrown away any gifts instantly, and John didn't have enough money to throw it away like that.

John didn't know what he was doing for Christmas, but he didn't think that it would be a normal day. No turkey, tree, presents and dull party games; no family rows and flaming puddings. What there would be, he knew, was Sherlock being either exasperating or irritating or both, and/or running for his life for some reason. He didn't know why he'd ever thought he'd get Christmas off; the criminal community had no sense of seasonality.

DI Lestrade was cleaning up after Sherlock's last arrest. He was more optimistic than John about his Christmas; he had the day off and he intended to spend some time with his family for once. He warned Sherlock, in no uncertain terns, to stay away from trouble on Christmas and that, since the man drew trouble like a magnet, when he did get into it he was to keep Lestrade out of it.

Lestrade had a feeling that even this wouldn't work. Sherlock Holmes was a born troublemaker.

Mycroft Holmes was in the middle of a highly delicate diplomatic negotiation. He was losing his temper fast, although he tried not to show it. This was a problem that cropped up every year. His current predicament took all his skill at manipulation to resolve.

Trying to get Sherlock to come home for Christmas dinners was nigh impossible.

And once again, it would appear that Sherlock was going to hold out. Mycroft knew better than to force him- the last time he'd tried, Sherlock had actually detonated a bomb harmlessly in a deserted office block to get out of it. It just wasn't worth it.

Mycroft had one last try. 'Sherlock. Please? It's for one hour, once a year. It doesn't take a lot from you just to say hello to your parents.'

A burst of violin music- or what passed for it in Mycroft's presence, although he knew his brother was excellent at the instrument when he wanted to- drove him from the flat.

Well, at least he could say that he'd tried. He left the house in self-righteous indignation as his car pulled up. He would spend Christmas day having a pleasant meal with his family; let his brother do what he wished.

In a less salubrious quarter of London, another Christmas was being planned. And this one would derail the plans of every other player in this game and probably most of the rest of London. The plan he had devised months ago was swinging into gear smoothly and all was going on time. A little more work to do, and then Christmas for Sherlock Holmes would truly go with a bang. A delighted giggle escaped his lips. That was a rather good line. Perhaps he should use it when Holmes came looking for him. This season's games would certainly not be boring.

Chapter 2 up soon :)