Christmas shopping

A/n: im really sorry about the wait I don't really know what happened to me. Please don't be angry!

So this one was inspired by guest- Ripple, who wanted an extension on John's Christmas shopping experience. It's taken from his blog –

'I'd taken Sherlock out Christmas shopping which, looking back, wasn't the best of ideas. He'd shouted at a Father Christmas that he was bored and wanted a nice juicy murder for Christmas - in front of a bunch of kids and their parents.'

So, I hope I did it justice, and enjoy! Xxx

Overall, the day really wasn't going well for me.

I was traipsing around the shopping centre, tired and generally in a bad mood as I tried to elbow my way through the sea of people, all bustling around trying to get their Christmas shopping in. I had Sherlock with me.

And Sherlock wasn't happy.

2 hours prior to us being in the middle of this light adorned Christmas shopping hell, I had somehow managed to persuade Sherlock to come and join me in my quest to get in everyone's presents, saying that he was the only one who knew what to get Mycroft for Christmas, and thus earning the evils of a lifetime.

But he relented, which I had, at the time, personally taken as an achievement worth being commended for.

But now, I was seriously. Seriously. Regretting it.

Half an hour after we had parked up, Sherlock decided the time was ripe to have a tantrum.

In the middle of the shop.

Had the floor opened up and tried to swallow me whole, I would have gladly allowed it. Instead, however, I had to deal with the world's only 6 foot toddler, and propel him out of the shop before anyone realised that the huge pile of clothes on the floor of the shop had been strategically put there by me to cover up the fact that Sherlock had broken a vase.

Sherlock found it funny.

I didn't.

No less than 5 minutes later, he thought it was a brilliant idea to let the people shopping in Debenhams know that the manager was having an affair.

God bloody help me, for I was left to deal with the very red, very angry manager, who demanded to know he had known about that, and refused to let me buy anything from the shop. In the end, I had been towed out the shop, and had yelled at Sherlock for at least 10 minutes before deciding that I needed a drink.

Somewhat 10 minutes after that, seated at the coffee shop with my tea, and my completely insane flat mate, I realised all too late that Sherlock had 'experimented' with my drink. In other words, he thought it was absolutely hilarious to put salt in my drink.

In had me coughing and spluttering and generally making a scene in the café, and left me red, embarrassed and absolutely furious with a certain curly haired idiot.

If I had thought then, that the day couldn't get any worse, I was sadly mistaken. We had entered a book store, and Sherlock had set eyes on a book.

A book about bumblebees.

And from that moment, he refused point blank to let go of it.

I tried desperately to wrestle the huge and heavy book from Sherlock's suddenly vice like grip, while he shouted at me to let go. Honestly, I had thought the worst was over when I had encountered Sherlock's possessiveness with the skull, but this. I mean, the book wasn't even his for god's sake!

Half an hour later, and Sherlock still absolutely refused to put back what he now referred to as 'his' book. It took a lot of effort on my part, and most of the shop supervisors, but eventually, he relented, after making me swear that I would buy it him for Christmas, which I had absolutely no intention of doing, but he believed me anyway. Huh, perhaps my acting skills were better than I thought.

This leads us to now, where I was dragging a ridiculously moody Sherlock along behind me, in a very bad mood.

Father Christmas was in the centre, on a pedestal, with a crowd of children around him, all laughing and smiling and altogether annoying.

Sherlock however, being Sherlock, had stopped, looking fascinated.

"Sherlock," I warned. I really didn't think I could take any more of his ridiculous behaviour.

He groaned, "im bored John, can't I just…"

"No, you cannot," oh lord when did I ever sign up to deal with this?

But we got distracted again in the form of Father Christmas.

"Now, what do you all want for Christmas?" he boomed at the children.

They all started shouting, as children do.

And I honestly didn't see what was coming.

"I want a nice juicy murder for Christmas, can you arrange that?" Sherlock suddenly shouted, so loud that everyone in the vicinity turned to look.

I could have died right there and then of embarrassment.

The silence that fell was the most awkward, icy, dumbfounded silence I had ever experience in my whole life.

And when it broke, I realised that Sherlock had gone, and I was suddenly attacked by a bunch of very angry parents, and there sobbing children. Santa himself looked as though he was about to start laughing, and to be honest, it would have been very funny if I hadn't been part of it. I spent the next hour of my life, apologising again and again to an endless stream of people and their children while trying desperately to explain that no, my lunatic flatmate was not a murderer, and no, he wasn't going to kill them all in the night (though I didn't seem to be fooling anyone) and wondered, not for the first time, why the hell I had ever got involved with Sherlock.

And then, I found Sherlock being escorted out of the building by some bloody policemen, who politely asked me to join them. Sherlock glanced at me, and I shot him a look that should have clearly said 'you're dead'.

It was very easy to say that, after we were dropped off at our flat by the policemen, it had been, and probably would always be, the worst Christmas shopping experience I had ever had, and I made a mental note never to take Sherlock shopping again. Even if my bloody life depended on it. It was never happening again.

Of course, I had been working up a huge yell at Sherlock, which, unfortunately, I never had chance to let loose, as a client was waiting in our flat.

Sherlock had been saved. But I took it out on him later by writing up my 'adventure' on my blog, and making him wear some antlers on Christmas day. If only for an hour, it had definitely been worth it. Mrs Hudson definitely wouldn't let him forget it in a hurry.

A/n: I had fun writing this one XD, but let me know what you think! Reviews and ideas are much welcome! And happy Christmas! Xxx