Sherlock never really understood the point of Christmas. His mother loved it, even going as far as to buying them matching jumpers when he was younger. It was a nuisance, standing next to Mycroft when their parents took pictures, gushing over how 'handsome' and 'sweet' they looked. And when he was old enough to know what he was doing, she made him play Christmas carols on violin.
So that was why, one year, he asked John if they could just stay at their apartment, drinking tea and ignoring everyone else. Sherlock was exhausted then, more so than ever. Being nice – or, how John put it, nicer – to people was hard and he more often than not wanted to just give up on it. But then again, he was Sherlock Holmes. He didn't just simply give up.
Surprisingly, John agreed to it.
So there they were, sitting in their chairs, sipping tea and talking about a new case they just started.
And honestly, it was the best Christmas Sherlock has ever had.
