A/N: Just a little something for the holidays: A Christmas 221b. Enjoy!
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the flat
Not a creature was stirring; what do you think of that?
Well, I, for one, was worried and therefore couldn't sleep
So down and down the stairs I did creep
Just to see if something was the matter
(And hoping Sherlock didn't make some strange "Christmas batter")
As I got to the sitting room, what should appear
But a small box with wrapping paper - patterned with reindeer.
A bright crimson bow was tied round the thing
I was rather impressed and... is that singing?
I peeked out the window, to see whence it came
And there were some carolers... which I knew by name.
Out there were Greg, Mike Stamford and Sally
Even poor Anderson, and dear sweet ol' Molly.
All of them singing to their hearts' content
Kinda makes one wonder what it all meant?
Sherlock wouldn't tolerate this sort of ploy
So, where is he now? Asleep, or... Oi!
To think I'd see him standing right there
Behind all the others, with nary a care
And now that I know it, I can pick his voice out
That bright baritone, with no messing about.
Singing some tune I've already forgot.
Which I start humming along to without any thought.
...You'll never know the joy that this sight has brought.
