John flicked absentmindedly through the morning paper, his eyes skimming over the photos and headlines but unable to make his brain focus long enough to read an entire article. He picked up his mug to take a swig of tea only to be met with air. Damn, empty already. He sighed and went back to his paper, turning the page only to be met by a large, full colour Marks and Spencer's Christmas advert. Ugh, he thought. His eyes flitted up to the date in the top corner...December 24th...he sighed again. It wasn't that John disliked Christmas, he actually did enjoy it. He had fond memories of those early Christmases when he and Harry were so young, so innocent-before the troubles of adolescence and young adulthood had crept in. A loud clang, followed by a swift thud echoed through the flat, originating from the kitchen. John smiled to himself, this year had the potential to become another Christmas to remember, because after all, this year he had Sherlock-all of Sherlock. His eyes again rested on the advert and his smile faded. There was just one problem. He had no idea what gift to get him. In years past he hadn't had any trouble-a new scarf, a new set of beakers and test tubes, but this year, this year it meant so much more. It was their first Christmas together, as more than friends, and the gift needed to be perfect and he was running out of time.

He set the paper down on the end table and picked up his mug, maybe another cuppa would bring an idea. Just as he was about to stand another noise erupted from the kitchen. This time it sounded like a small explosion. John left the mug on the table and hurried over. There stood Sherlock in front of the microwave which was billowing dark, thick smoke. A curious scent reminiscent of burnt rubber hung in the air. 'Christ, Sherlock.' John exclaimed. The tall, lanky detective turned towards his boyfriend, his eyes watering from the smoke which was still coming. Before he could say anything the fire alarm began to screech. John grabbed a tea towel and began fanning the smoke away as Sherlock opened the window. 'What was it this time?' John inquired, and Sherlock thought he detected a hint of annoyance in his tone.

'Experiment.' He answered as the alarm blared on. He grabbed a second tea towel and began directing the smoke towards the open window. They heard the door to the flat open and then a familiar voice called out.

'Experiment or actual emergency?'

'Experiment.' They both called out at the same time. Smiling they met each others eyes for a brief moment.

'Then take the batteries out dears. Do you want to annoy the entire street?'

'Sorry Mrs. Hudson.' John called as he stepped out of Sherlock's way, letting the taller man reach up and remove the batteries. The screeching stopped and the flat fell quiet again.

'Well that's better.' announced. 'Merry Christmas, boys!'

'Merry Christmas.' They both replied as Mrs. Hudson saw herself out.

Most of the smoke had left via the window and Sherlock could now feel the chilled air coming in. That peculiar smell still lingered though, it might be awhile before that cleared out. He was about to offer a better explanation to John, but before he could John cleared his throat and announced 'I'm going out.' Without another word the sandy haired doctor grabbed his coat and headed out the door. Sherlock sighed as he heard the door shut. He had upset John. He knew it. And on their first real Christmas. He knew John wasn't overly fond of Sherlock's doing experiments in the flat, but he thought he had come to tolerate them. Maybe he had gone too far this time, although he would have assumed the severed fingers in the custard to be worse than a small microwave explosion. Was it because it was Christmas? Or had he just caused his patience to wear out? This Christmas was supposed to be perfect and now he had wrecked it. He ran his fingers through his curls and briefly considered grabbing a cigarette from his stash. No, he thought. It was bad enough that he still had the stash, taking one from it would most definitely ruin Christmas. So instead he rolled up his sleeves and set himself to the task of attempting to repair the microwave.

It was dark by the time John came home. The microwave had been repaired, or mostly repaired anyway. He spent the rest of the evening trying not to offend John any further. They ate their Christmas Eve dinner of Chinese take-away in relative silence, Sherlock careful to not say anything about the earlier incident. He agreed with a smile when John suggested watching Home Alone when they found it on the telly, even though he found the premise absolutely ridiculous. John liked it, and so they would watch. He relaxed slightly when John brought him a mug of hot chocolate and handed it to him with a smile. They sat quietly for awhile, John's attention on the film, and Sherlock's on John. Half an hour into the movie John noticed that Sherlock was staring.

'What?' he asked.

'Nothing.'

'You okay? You've been awfully quiet tonight.'

'Fine.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes.'

John cautiously scooted over towards Sherlock. Sherlock reclined into the couch and extended his arms. John leaned his back against Sherlock's chest Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist. Relaxing even more as the weight and warmth of his boyfriend made him feel light and giddy, almost like he was drunk. Maybe all was forgiven.

They stayed like that for hours, long after the film had ended, both drifting in and out of sleep. Around one am John announced that it was time for bed and Sherlock followed half awake. When he awoke the next morning he noticed immediately that John's side of the bed was empty. How long had he slept for? John never usually woke up first.

'John?' he called, his mind beginning to spin horrible what-ifs.

'In the kitchen.' Came the immediate reply, to his relief. 'Stay there. Don't come out here yet.' John's voice had a hint of mischief that made Sherlock's heart flutter. Obediently he sat perched on the edge of the bed until John came in a few minutes later.

'Ready?'

'For what?' He asked with an impish grin on his face. John rolled his eyes and smiled.

'Eyes shut.' Sherlock obeyed. He felt John's hand grab his and his heart leapt. John pulled him up and lead him towards the kitchen. The desire to open his eyes was so strong,but he had to keep them shut, he had to let John have his moment. He could tell John had stopped him in front of the counter. Now he was positioning Sherlock in a precise spot. 'You ready?'

'Yes.'

'Okay, open.' Sherlock did as he was told and opened his eyes. When he saw what greeted them, he immediately began to laugh. Next to yesterday's offending microwave was a brand new, identical one wrapped in a red bow. Tears of laughter sprang to his eyes when he saw that they had been labeled. The one he thought had ruined Christmas was now labeled 'Food Only' and the brand new one was 'Science Only'. He turned towards John, laughter still rumbling through him.

'Is it okay?' John asked, not quite sure how to take the laughter.

'I thought I'd ruined Christmas.' Sherlock wiped his eyes with his sleeve. John's face registered a moment of confusion and then he too began to laugh.

'Oh Sherlock. You actually saved it. I had no idea what to get you.'

Sherlock began to laugh even harder at this admission. 'Just a minute.' Sherlock said after finally gaining his composure. 'Wait here.' He disappeared to the spare bedroom for a moment and returned holding a square, navy box. 'For you.' He held it out to John.

John opened the box and inside was a brand new watch. The face was a gunmetal grey with bronze hands, the band was a mesh of the same colour. 'It's gorgeous. Thank you' John said, immediately putting it on.

'I wasn't sure which one would be best.' Sherlock offered. 'I bought seven. Then of course tested them all for durability. The sixth one failed yesterday.'

'Wait a minute.' John looked up at Sherlock. 'Is that what you were doing with the microwave yesterday?'

'Yes.' he admitted sheepishly, a blush spreading across his face. A smile began in John's dark blue eyes that soon spread over his entire face.

'Oh you utterly ridiculous man. Come here you.' He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, buried his hands in his dark curls and stared into his light blue eyes. 'It's perfect. And this Christmas is perfect. And you are perfect.' Then he kissed him, long and deep and slow. Yup, John thought as they melted in to one another, definitely a Christmas to remember.