Chapter Two! This was the hardest on for me to twist into a Sherlock/John fic, reviews on my success are greatly appreciated ^.^

Hope you enjoy it,

Love & Hugs, Ari.

Disclaimer: If I owned Sherlock, and by default Benedict Cumberbatch, I would not be in my bedroom writing fan fiction. I would be in my bedroom doing other, more interesting, things.


On the second day of Christmas, My true love sent to me,

Two turtle doves, and a Partridge in a Pear Tree.

He was almost done. The tinsel was hanging around the room, and there were fairy lights in the two large windows of 221b Baker street.

When Sherlock got home all hells would break loose, but John was determined to win this argument. He was almost convinced he would.

There was still the tree to decorate, it had taken him the better part of an hour to put the damn thing up, and make sure it was over the blanket he'd put down to catch the needles. All the better for cleaning up after Christmas.

That was if Sherlock didn't use the little tree for an experiment before then. What was he thinking? Decorations were like a red flag to a bull when it came to the consulting detective. Mycroft's assumption that he'd been preparing to start a trail of gifts, following the twelve days of Christmas would have made John laugh expect it hadn't been a bad idea.

He hadn't got a clue what to get Sherlock for Christmas, so this was going to be it, and whether Mycroft knew he'd given John the idea or not, the doctor had texted his thanks back anyway.

By the time he heard his lovers footsteps on the stairs, John had practically finished. The fairy flights flickered off the bright silver tinsel and made the whole tree sparkle, John had scattered lametta in between the baubles and was about to finish when he heard Sherlock open the living room door and the silence was deafening.

"What have you done to my flat?"

The detectives exclamation had John instantly irritated

"Our flat, Sherlock, and I decorated for Christmas, it can come down after the 26th of December"

There was a beat of silence again as John turned to face Sherlock after he'd finished tying a small feathered bird shaped decoration to the tree.

"Do you mean the room has to be like this for another 23 days? I can't work like this!"

"Then you'd better take a holiday Sherlock" John responded with a scowl of his own

"But John!..."

"No Sherlock! Christmas is important"

"Christmas is just another way for companies to extract money from you"

"That's what it's become, not what it is!"

John didn't say another word, didn't dare breath, but he felt the atmosphere relax. He'd actually won, although he wasn't convinced it was going to be worth the sulking he'd have to put up with for the rest of the month.

Sherlock moved closer to the tree, his sharp grey eyes taking in everything and his face glowing orange in the lights the doctor had scattered around the room.

"Turtle-dove"

John blinked. How had he worked out John's plans from staring at the Christmas tree?

"What?"

The detective pointed to the single bird ornament that John had already tied to the tree and nodded "A turtle dove, not very festive is it John?"

John let a small smile slip over his face as he tied the second bird to the tree "more festive than anything else in the room Sherlock.

The detective raised an eyebrow and John felt that rare flush that he usually associated with working something out before his partner

"They're an old symbol for love, because turtle doves mate for life, and since that's what Christmas is really supposed to be about... love, friendship, companionship, trust... you know, not all the shopping, and the food, and the waste..."

Sherlock pulled Johns hands from the trees and cut off his speech with a soft kiss

"Christmas is about love, is it John?"

"Yes..."

Their conversation was stilled by another tender kiss, and both men's breathing picked up as slowly as their touches. Eventually, John pulled back enough to speak, and found himself pressed against wall with no knowledge of getting there

"I haven't put the star on the top"

"Does it matter? It's about love, after all, not stars on top of tree's"

John found he didn't have a valid argument for that, and proceeded to follow Sherlock's example and celebrate the season in a very traditional way, like turtle doves. After all, they really were made for each other.

A few hours later, Sherlock agreed. The tree could stay.