The Christmas Gift
Day one: December 6th
Sherlock glanced at John, who had been staring out the window ever since they got into the car. "Are you going to be like that all month?" he asked. "I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?"
John sighed. "Don't you see that this is something else than simply... saying something wrong or creating smelly smoke with an experiment? It's our home. Mrs. Hudson had to go to her sister. Who knows when we can return to the flat." He shook his head.
"30 days," Sherlock said, promptly. "31 if the beam proves to be compromised."
"30 days," John repeated, "including Christmas and New Year."
Sherlock frowned. "Yes. That part is unfortunate. I still say we should have gotten a room somewhere. I really do not think your solution is... advisable..."
"I think it's very kind of Mycroft that he even wants to do this. It saves us a lot of money," John said.
"Yes, very nice," Sherlock sneered. "And he will not at all be smug about finally getting us to come to his place for Christmas..."
"If you get over you pride, you'll see it was the best solution," John said with a small shrug.
Sherlock studied him for a moment. "How about we give it a day or two and see if you still think it was the best solution?"
"Sure," John answered, looking out the window again.
Sherlock watched him for a moment, then got out his phone and began texting.
John glanced at his hands. "What are you up to?"
"Keeping in touch," Sherlock said casually, not looking up from his phone.
"With your many friends?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Acquaintances," Sherlock replied, smiling a little.
"Right. Listen, don't ruin this before we even get to his house, okay?"
"Ruin what?" Sherlock asked, making his best innocent eyes.
John glared at him. "Don't let us be kicked out of the house by tonight just because you are so stubborn."
"He won't kick us out," Sherlock said. "He's even more stubborn than me."
"Yeah, but he can make things rather unpleasant. I'd like a quiet Christmas for once," John said, already feeling a little exasperated.
Sherlock reached over and took his hand. "John... If you wanted a quiet Christmas, you wouldn't be with me, would you?"
...
When they arrived at Mycroft's mansion, they simply dumped their bags (which contained pretty much everything they had been able to save from the flat) in their room and went back down for dinner.
Mycroft was waiting by the table, indeed looking smug. John wished he wouldn't, as he knew well enough it would make things worse.
Sherlock glared and greeted him with a curt, "Brother," before sitting down, unfurling his napkin with a snap of his wrist and placing it in his lap.
John attempted a smile at Mycroft.
"Is everything in the room to your liking?" Mycroft inquired.
"Everything but its location," Sherlock replied, reaching for the water and pouring himself a large glass.
"Sherlock," John mumbled. "It's fantastic," he told Mycroft. "Thank you."
Mycroft sent his brother a disturbed look, before he smiled back at John and sat down. "I'm glad to hear that."
Sherlock reached over and took Mycroft's glass. He held both glasses up in front of him and began pouring water from one to the other.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" John asked wearily.
"Not that again." Mycroft rolled his eyes.
"Training," Sherlock said. "Hand to eye coordination. Very effective. Should prevent today's setback from recurring."
"If all this... training... didn't help you in the past, I'd give up, brother dear," Mycroft said, while a steaming plate of stew was being put in front of him.
"It did help me," Sherlock said calmly. "But I was distracted." He glanced over at John, smiling.
John huffed and mumbled something that sounded like 'not my fault'.
"Then you should have been more focused. Enjoy your meal," Mycroft said smoothly.
Sherlock didn't respond. Having successfully poured all the water into Mycroft's glass without spilling a drop, he held the glasses further away from him and then repeated the process.
"In fact, I would like some water, and your food is getting cold," Mycroft pointed out.
Sherlock shrugged, finished pouring the water slowly and then handed Mycroft the empty glass. "I'm not hungry," he said.
"And you're not on a case either. Eat," John said, right before stuffing his own mouth.
Sherlock send him a petulant glare but then picked up his fork and began eating slowly.
"Thank you," John said softly.
"So... How did you actually make your flat explode this time?" Mycroft asked, looking interested.
"John," Sherlock said, smiling a little.
"Sherlock was mixing explosives," John said quickly.
"But Sherlock has been mixing explosives since he was seven," Mycroft frowned. "You'd think you'd have gotten the hang of it by now, Sherlock."
Sherlock nodded. "Yes, one would think so. But then again, I did not have such a charming flatmate back then. Quite the contrary, actually."
"It sounds like we should mark John as a chemical hazard on our lists," Mycroft said earnestly.
John rolled his eyes. "It really wasn't my fault. I didn't know Sherlock had suddenly started performing an experiment."
"And I didn't know you had other plans," Sherlock countered. "I thought you were going to take care of things in the shower. You always do that on Fridays."
John raised an eyebrow at him and Mycroft cleared his throat.
Sherlock seemed completely unfazed and continued eating.
The rest of dinner passed relatively uneventful and John almost dared to feel at ease.
Suddenly Sherlock put down his fork and stood up. "I'm done," he said, and turned to leave.
John looked up at him and sighed. "I'm not. If you're going, at least start unpacking our stuff, will you?"
Sherlock smiled at him. "You're so cute," he said before disappearing out the door. A moment later he could be heard running up the stairs.
John gave Mycroft a very sharp 'that never happened'-look and got up as well. "I'd better go make sure he doesn't do anything... Sherlocky."
Mycroft nodded. "Goodnight, John."
John entered the room just after Sherlock had closed the door behind himself.
Sherlock had already jumped on the bed, all his attention focused on his phone on which he was eagerly typing something.
"Really, who are you texting?" John asked, bending to pick up the bags.
Sherlock looked up at him and smiled. "Jealous?" he asked, teasingly.
"Curious and a little cautious," John corrected.
"I'm just answering old mail," Sherlock said. "You know, cases I never bothered to take, old 'friends' wanting a favour."
"Right. Of course you couldn't do that in an unexploded flat, so you have to do it now. I see," John said.
"Well, I can't work on my experiments, can I? And I'm going to need something to do if I'm not going to go insane in this place."
John put one of the bags down on a chair and the other on the table. "You did have unfinished business..." he said.
Sherlock looked up at him and smiled. "I suppose I did," he said. "But I wasn't sure if I would get to see to that today or not. Considering..."
John snorted. "I did all the... preparations. You're simply not getting out of it."
Sherlock nodded. "Fair enough," he said and opened the top button of his shirt. "Where do you want me to start?"
John smirked. "Just stay where you are, but put your phone away."
With a grin, Sherlock leaned over to put his phone on the small side table. Then he looked up at John expectantly.
John smirked and opened his trousers. "It really was a shame you were busy."
"Next time you change your habits, you really should let me know," Sherlock said, removing his jacket.
"I wanted to surprise you," John answered, pulling his jumper over his head.
Sherlock laughed. "You did."
John snorted and stepped out of his trousers. "I didn't want to literally take the roof off our bedroom."
"Then you obviously underestimated the effect you have on me," Sherlock said, barely suppressing a giggle.
John laughed. "Get naked and sit up against the wall, you idiot," he ordered with a fond smile.
"Yes, Sir," Sherlock said and quickly undressed. As he leaned against the wall he held out his hands. "Like this?"
"Yes." John licked his lips and took off his pants, then sat down in Sherlock's lap and kissed him.
Sherlock immediately wrapped his arms around him, returning the kiss eagerly.