3. From Riandra - Christmas cards
Watson neatly organized their various cards on the mantle. One from Mrs. Hudson; one from the Lestrades; one from the Gregsons; the Hopkins'; the MacPhersons; Stamford; Murray; Mary's distant cousins in America; Mrs. Forester; even a handmade illustration and note from those "dear little ragamuffins" (as Mary called them fondly) that he had found pinned to their door early one morning.
"Does Holmes ever send a card, dear?" Mary asked, slipping beside him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"I don't believe so," he answered. "I've never known him to. Hm," he said thoughtfully. Mary eyed him. "Looks like you've had an idea."
"I might have," he said vaguely. "I've got to run an errand, love. I'll be home in a bit."
It took a predictable twelve hours before Holmes was banging on his door.
"What are you up to?" Holmes demanded before Watson even finished opening the door. "I've had dozens of messages thanking me for the card I sent! I sent no card!"
"Hm, how mysterious," Watson said, feigning surprise.
Holmes glared.
"Here's the one you sent me," Watson added, grabbing a card from the mantle. "Here, examine it. For clues, as it were."
Grudgingly, Holmes said, "You could have done worse. It's not too frivolous. Plain stationery, short message. If I were inclined to indulge, it would do."
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Scrooge," Watson grinned.
Thereafter, Holmes sent a plain card to his closest circle for Christmas- if only to prevent Watson from sending one anyway.
Sorry I'm behind! My birthday is December 3, and that and the end of classes got me a bit behind.