AS A DISCLAIMER: Both Sherlock AND Anne are OOC, so it's pure fluff and yah. :P.

I APOLOGIZE, KELLY. I WAS ANGSTING AND NEEDED TO WRITE FLUFF. -hides under a couch-

December 25th again. The cold air was tinged with the holly-bearing spirit that always permeated Christmastime. Anne had made herself a present this year, a black dress with little rhinestones dancing along the edges of the frills. She pulled some of her hair back with her rose pin, and even decided to wear her mother's ring. It was her sixth year at the flat, and she was going all out for this year. She baked some apple tarts for the orphanage, and even made some eggnog, however much she hated the stuff. She glanced at her silver pocket watch; it was late enough in the day for Sherlock to be awake, sober and reasonable. All of which occur at different times of day, you know.

Ivan was taking another vacation, so he wasn't at the flat. Aside from the fact that he wasn't at the flat nine days out of ten, that is. Everything was in a bit of a hush, which was unusual for Christmas morning. Likely because it was a record breaking low outside, so everyone was busy tending to fires and staying indoors. A few brave souls trudged to church. Anne was softly singing Christmas carols, she was always in a good mood today. "What star is this…" carried softly through the building as she walked up the staircase.

Galileo; his gold eyes nearly as bright and cheery as the children on this day, wound around her legs, threatening to trip Anne. "Mroooow…" he purred, rubbing against her shin with his unconditional affection. The female smiled, and gave him a tin of kippers, a much adored gift. Indeed, his face lit up as he greedily munched at the fish "So easy to make a cat happy." Anne chuckled to herself as she stroked the feline twice, and then continued to Sherlock's room. "Not so easy to make this one, however." She said with a touch of a groan.

The detective was smoking his pipe thoughtfully, staring out the window in a nearly otherworldly trance. He always acted weird around the 25th, but this time it was even weirder than usual. And considering that this is Sherlock's weird, plus Christmas weird, plus more weird. This level of weird would freak Anne out slightly is it was any other day, but this was her favorite time of year, and she wasn't going to let Sherlock ruin it. Not this time.

"Merry Chriiiiiiiiistmaaaas, Sheeeeer-looock!" Anne warbled in a high F. He had asked that she always announce her entry before barging in, and she invented a way to be the most annoying. She poked her head in the room, smiling brightly.

"You were out last night?" he asked, turning to face his accomplice in justice.

She blinked. "You…weren't here last night…you just got here a few hours ago…" she then remembered just who she was talking to. "Alright, go ahead, what gave it away?" She leaned against the wall, holding her gift behind her back.

"You're wearing heels. You only wear heels, which you hate, after an instance where you felt self-conscious about your height. You only feel conscious about your height when you're out with Roxanna. She didn't stay here, or there would be a tinge of her perfume. Therefore, you two went out last night."

Anne clapped sarcastically. "Bravo, bravo, encore, encore." She cheered with the same tone. "Vous êtes un génie." He was a genius, but anything said between them in French usually had far more emotion it it's words than English could ever manage.

"Aren't I though?" Sherlock said with a wicked smile. He hopped off of his perch; brown eyes analyzing Anne further. He looked behind her; where she held something behind her back. "What do you have there?"

"Oh, it's just a little something for Christmas." Anne said humbly, bringing it out into his view. It had a festive red ribbon on it with silver details, her personal trademark. "It's a twelve year old bottle of scotch. My father's Scottish side of the family owns a small business, no finer liquor this side of Istanbul."

Galileo waltzed into the room, licking his chops and crawled up Holmes's leg, much to his chagrin. After the cat had ceased digging his claws into the man's clothes and flesh, and was happily perching on his shoulder, Sherlock picked up the bottle and looked at it closely, his dark eyes wide with excitement. "So, you're saying that if I go to the other side of Istanbul, I'll find better scotch?" he never missed a chance to taunt his apprentice.

Anne grinned a little. "Holmes, if you are going to be mean today I'll banish you to the snowy wonderlandy hell outside, because it's at least twenty below and you'll be freezing cold within three minutes." she said, not really wanting to hear his crap.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." he said. "Thank you; I do love a good scotch. And, if I remember correctly, so do you." He motioned to Anne with the neck of the bottle with a mischievous smirk. thought for a second. "I had something for you, now where did I put it….." He walked behind Anne, who was about to turn around. "Don't look!" he reprimanded, as he rummaged through things, looking for the gift.

"That's okay, you don't have to pretend you got me something…" she said tiredly. But dutiful to her boss, she kept her eyes closed. She also folded her arms, trying to decipher what he was doing by audio alone. It was sincere tinkering around, so she started guessing what he could possibly give her. Last year was the pocket watch, the year before…..he was unconscious…..year before that….they were locked in a tool shed for a week…..the year before that he gave her the necklace to replace the one snatched off in a fight. What could he possibly conjure up this time?

Sherlock looked underneath papers and all the mess that was on the various pieces of furniture in the sitting room. Equations, diagrams, chemical formulas, a few sketches he had complied when he had a fling with art, inventions, compositions, everything thrown together, and now he couldn't find it. He was beginning to grow incredibly frustrated, where the hell was it? He looked back at Anne, and was a little amazed.

God, she looked stunning. He could tell she had worked really hard on the dress, and that she definitely put in an effort today to look beautiful. Not that she didn't always have that captivating spark, but she really shone today. Galileo took leave from his shoulders, and now took to watching a bird from the window with fascination. Sherlock got a crazy idea. Maybe, just maybe…

He snuck up behind her, quiet as a shadow. Closely he stood behind her, still timid of what this thought could mean. Carefully, he slid his hands underneath her arms, drawing her into an embrace. The moment where everything changes, that one second where the massive shift occurs, nothing can prepare you for the mental shockwave.

Anne gasped lightly, abdominal muscles tightened for a second; unsure of what Sherlock was doing. This was extremely different from what she knew him to be. Had he finally deciphered the web of her mind to see the things she thought? Was this just another taunt, messing with her psyche even more? Or…was this…

Sincere….?

Anne whispered in a voice that was both feared and hoped at the same time. "Holmes, I-"

"Shh." He hushed. Sherlock turned her around and held her close. "Don't talk." He murmured. "Don't!" he said firmly when she opened her mouth.

Anne obeyed, and instead returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist too. "Is this my present, Sherlock?" she spoke softly. "Because if it is, I don't want us to throw our lives away for one happy day."

He kissed her chastely, and murmured "Non, mon chaton, por la vie."

So, now you've read my ridiculously cheesy, Mary-Suey, ridiculousy fluff fic.

Sue me, love me, whatever.

By the way, Sherlock found what he was looking for a few hours of serious searching later. It was a new ring for her mother's diamond, the one they had to- well, that's for another fanfic...

I'M SOOOORRRRYYYYY KELLYYYYYYYYYYYYY...