A/N Thank you to everyone who helped me work out what "period's" are, in a literary sense, for all you Americans, in England they're called "Full Stops". I believe that the problem caused in chapter 6 was when I used them like this "..."
I took literature as an A-Level, so if I'm right, and that was what was causing the trouble, I'd like to let all you Americans know that when used like that it's referred to as an "ellipsis", it's used to signify a pause or hesitation in the writing, more often then not in speech. If that wasn't the problem, Anon reviewer from chapter 6 has stumped me, and I admit to giving up :p
Moving on, this one should be a sweet one, let's hope I pull it off ;)
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 Ninth day of Christmas, My true love sent to me,
Nine ladies dancing, Eight Maids a-milking,
Seven Swans a-swimming, Six Geese a-laying,
Five Gold Rings,
Four Calling Birds, Three French Hens,
Two Turtle Doves, and a Partridge in a Pear Tree.
"We need to go a buy suits."
John blinked with his jacket half off, and frowned at Sherlock as the taller man laid stretched out on the sofa with his fingers pressed together under his chin.
"Umm... why?"
"For Mycroft's Christmas dinner."
John was silent as he finished removing his coat and gloves, and carried the shopping into the kitchen as he thought.
"What Christmas dinner?"
"The one he invited us to last month."
John frowned, and noticed that Sherlock hadn't once looked at him.
"Why don't I remember this invitation?"
The consulting detective didn't reply and John sighed as he made his way into the living room and scowled down at Sherlock with his arms folded.
"I may have deleted the text message he sent you, I thought I could talk him out of us having to go."
"I take it, since we now have to buy suits, that you failed?"
"Sherlock glared at him, but John could see the signs of a sulk starting "I didn't fail! He merely mentioned mother would be there... she'd be upset if I missed it."
"So, why do I need to go?"
"Mother wants to meet you."
John sighed and sank into his chair. He didn't really mind going, but he'd not met Mrs Holmes before, and that did make him a bit nervous. But honestly, how bad could a Christmas dinner party be?
"So when it is then?"
"Next week."
The snow had melted days ago, but the temperature was still barely above freezing by the time John had managed to motivate Sherlock into helping him find an appropriate suit for Mycroft's dinner. They'd been through a number of shops, starting with John's choices, at reasonable prices, and they were now in store's Sherlock had chosen where they had been given a starting price and everything that was adjusted to fit the customer was added onto the bill.
John felt ill at the thought of how much these suits were going to cost, and usually he'd have put his foot down at the extravagance, but he did want to make a good impression on Mrs Holmes after all. The whole shopping trip had taken nearly four hours, and most of that time had been spent having John fitted for a suit, the tailor seemed to already know Sherlock's sizes, and the doctor had a sneaking suspicion that this was the Holmes family tailor.
When the shop assistant brought over a selection of shoes, John was ready to throw them at the man, and from Sherlock's grin, he knew it too.
"No, none of them, they need to be soft leather, I'm certain Mycroft will having dancing."
"Dancing?"
The detective blinked at Johns shocked exclamation as the assistant removed the current selection and scurried away to pick out some more for his customer's perusal.
"Well, yes, dancing... What else do people usually do at Christmas dinner parties?"
"Sit down, have dinner, and usually get drunk..."
Sherlock shrugged, suddenly relaxing "Oh, well that happens too."
"Sherlock..." John muttered, as he spotted the shop assistant on his way back, "I can't dance."
He spotted Sherlock tense out of the corner of his eye, but the man covered it quickly, even as John's chest filled with guilt. He wasn't entirely comfortable with public displays of affection, but he knew that Sherlock liked to show him off. He sometimes thought it had something to do with proving that someone could do more than tolerate him, someone did indeed love him with all his eccentricities and quirks, and not despite them.
Something Sherlock still wasn't good at though was reading John's intentions behind his actions. In that brief stiffening, John knew that Sherlock though he'd said he couldn't dance, so that he wouldn't have to dance, and a plan began unwinding through his thoughts even as the taller man shrugged
"That's fine, I don't dance at Mycroft's meals anyway, it won't surprise anyone if I decline to again this year."
John's new plan didn't stop the guilt that statement caused though.
"I'll get a soft pair anyway; they might as well be comfortable."
Sherlock's insecurities were well hidden and deeply buried, but sometimes they dug their way out. When John backed out of dancing at Mycroft's dinner party with the excuse that he couldn't dance, he'd given Sherlock's insecurities a ladder to help them escape with.
'He could be telling the truth, not many people do know how to dance now...'
'No, he's simply ashamed to be seen with the freak...'
'You're being silly; he wouldn't have stayed if that was the case'
'But he's not stayed is he? He's vanishing more and more...'
Every evening since their shopping trip John had been going out, and not returning for around four hours, usually sweating, and sometimes out of breath. If Sherlock hadn't known better, he'd have thought the doctor was cheating on him, but the evidence was inconclusive. John knew how observant Sherlock was, there was no way he'd be able to hide that from the consulting detective.
Sometimes John went missing for a couple of hours in the middle of the day if they didn't have work to do for Lestrade, and returned in the same state. He always took a shower, which was helpful because the smell of sweat really wasn't something that Sherlock found appealing, but the consulting detective was drawing a blank when he tried to work out where John was going.
He'd have already followed his lover, but John had made him promise not to, telling him he was preparing something for Christmas. He wasn't lying, exactly, but Sherlock knew when John wasn't being completely honest either.
Was the man planning on breaking their partnership up on Christmas? No, no John wouldn't be that cruel...
'Wouldn't he? Then why is he lying? He's ashamed to be with you...'
'That's not it, its public displays of affection...'
'He didn't have a problem with Sarah...'
'That was different...'
'Why?'
Sherlock growled before he noticed John standing in the doorway. He'd frozen at Sherlock's frustrated sound, and was now blinking at his lover, as he tried to catch his breath. Sherlock scowled at his flushed heated face.
The consulting detective rolled on the sofa, offering John his back and another huff of irritation
"You all right Sherlock?"
"Perfectly."
Silence reigned for a heartbeat as the taller man listened for his partner's movements. His breath caught and hope spread delicate wings when John took a step towards the sofa. This was right, this was normal; John would demand to know what he was sulking about now...
But hope shattered as the doctor merely sighed, and turned, heading for the stairs and the shower... like he had been for nearly a week. With a growl that had John turning back to Sherlock in surprise the consulting detective launched himself from the sofa towards the sweat covered doctor, and pinned him to the nearest wall as he slammed a harsh kiss against John's lips, drawing blood and a surprised gasp from the shorter man that Sherlock took full advantage of.
His tongue forced it's way into the doctor's mouth and John moaned, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck, and tangling his fingers in the mans hair as Sherlock melted against him, long arms tugging at John's waist possessively. It took less than a moment for John to begin responding to Sherlock's aggressive attack, stroking along the other man's tongue with his own, and swiping steady hands along Sherlock's trembling back, but the detective wouldn't be calmed, and nipped harshly at John's lips, drawing another type of trembling from the doctor.
When firm fingers began tugging harshly at the belt of John's jeans though the doctor growled in frustration, and kissed Sherlock deeply in a way he knew froze his lover's thoughts for a moment. It took less time than that for the doctor to have swapped their positions and to pin the detective's hands against the wall as they both panted, trying to catch their breaths
"Let me go, John!"
A soft, languid kiss stopped Sherlock's rant and made his body melt against John's, and the doctor kept up the smooth brush of lips and tongue until his lover moaned and kept his eyes pressed closed when John moved back slightly
"I love you, Sherlock"
The man in question tensed against John's body and John responded with a firm push of hips, and another tender brush of lips and tongue that calmed the argument Sherlock had been building up to
"Where do you keep going?"
John didn't think he'd ever heard Sherlock quite that vulnerable, and he nearly told the man everything but he couldn't. Not yet. There was only a couple of day's left to Mycroft's Christmas party, and then he'd surprise Sherlock.
"Wait three more days, and I'll tell you ... I'll do better, I'll show you, but it's a surprise Sherlock..." He released the detective's hands and they immediately found their way under his jumper and John pressed his forehead to Sherlock's as the taller man sighed
"Fine..." he grumbled after a moment, and a couple more slow kisses, "Now go and get that shower, you absolutely stink"
John was nervous, and it had very little to do with the new suit he was standing in front of the mirror staring at.
The suit looked good, he had to admit, and the fit was exquisite, even the new shoes were comfortable and oh gods, he was going to be sick.
It was the night of Mycroft's dinner party, and he was going to be introduced to Mrs Holmes as Sherlock's partner. He hadn't dared to ask Sherlock how many people were going to be there, especially not after his show of possessive dominance a few days previous.
With a terrified, resigned sigh, John brushed down the front of the jacket one last time before heading down to where he knew Sherlock was pacing the living room.
"Ready, Sherlock?"
Silence was his answer, and e glanced up from straightening a cuff link to find Sherlock staring at him with a look he recognised instantly
"Let's stay home..."
"Oh no! You didn't fork out a small fortune on this suit so that we'd stay in and it never got used" John smirked, feeling more comfortable with the heated gaze of his lover on him than he had all day, his nerves over Mycroft's Christmas dinner party had vanished and he merely grinned at his lover
"Why don't you hold that though, and we'll leave the party early?"
Sherlock scowled, and didn't answer, settling for a brief brush of lips and a soft "You look amazing", before the waiting taxi hit his horn and summoned them swiftly out of the flat and on their way.
The actual meal had gone without a problem. Soup, followed by a pheasant dish, and concluded with some kind of alcoholic chocolate mouse. Mostly, John asked Sherlock which cutlery to use, and by the time they'd finished the meals provided most of it was still unused. John didn't understand it, and Sherlock promised to explain it later.
The problems didn't start until after dinner, when everyone moved into a huge hall for dancing, a scattering of tables around the room suggested that nobody was expected to sit still for very long, but Sherlock immediately led John to a table in the far corner, muttering briefly that it was his table, and that he'd be back in a few moments with "mother"
"Dr Watson, how are you?"
Mycroft stood next to the table, and John managed to hide a scowl. He must have been waiting for Sherlock to leave. He noticed that the mans usual umbrella had been replaced with an elegant and clearly decorative cane, and John managed to smile at the smooth image the older Holmes brother presented
"Well, thank you Mycroft... It's uh, a lovely party"
Mycroft stared at John for a moment before he sighed and sat down "How much warning did Sherlock give you?"
The doctor grimaced and nodded. There was no point arguing with a Holmes.
"Just under a week"
"For someone as smart as my brother..."John looked back at Mycroft to see him staring across the room, his eyes narrowed in a calculating manner before he shook the look away, "I see that you're still fixing my brothers Christmas present?"
"I'm not sure how, but it seems to be coming together"
"I've been having my surveillance team take some appropriate photographs John, if you'd like copies for some kind of ... memento?"
"That, would be perfect Mycroft, I've been trying to think of some way to put everything together as an actual present for Sherlock"
"I wasn't certain you'd appreciate the interference, John... ah, here comes Mummy"
Mrs Holmes was stunning. Long black hair, that held only a sprinkling of grey here and there, and John half wondered why she didn't simply pluck them. She'd look more like Sherlock and Mycroft's sister if it wasn't for those singular age distinguishing marks.
She glided towards the table, moving a few steps ahead of the now scowling Sherlock when she laid eyes on John and her smile was Sherlock's; The same bright grin that the detective gave only to John. The doctor stood without conscious thought, and smiled, kissing the older woman's offered hand and greeting her softly.
"Mrs Holmes, it's a pleasure to meet you"
"Please, Doctor Watson, call me Ariadne" she smiled softly, and John got the distinct impression he'd just passed some sort of test. This was confirmed when Sherlock relaxed behind his mother, and moved to stand next to John, linking their fingers together.
"Mummy..."
"Mycroft, you've outdone yourself this year"
John had never seen Mycroft at a loss for words but he simply smiled at her. She seemed to have the same affect on everyone she met, not just John and even Sherlock seemed content to simply be in her presence
"It's interesting to meet the man who's managed to get through to Sherlock, he's always been suck an introvert, John"
"Mother..."
John could hear the warning in his lovers voice, but Aridne either didn't or ignored it, from the widening grin on her features John would have put money on the second option
"You must come for tea one day in the New Year and tell me all about how you met, Sherlock has been irritatingly vague, and Mycroft tells me it's confidential, which probably means it's an incredibly interesting story... what do you say?"
John couldn't help but laugh as the two brothers glared at their mother, and after a moment he managed to choke out a "sure, Ariadne, I'd love to" and the two men on either side of him, transferred their glares to him but John didn't mind, as Ariadne laughed lightly
"Wonderful! I can tell I'm going to like you Doctor Watson"
She glanced at Sherlock, and a glint that John recognised from his lover entered her bright blue eyes causing a chill to run the length of his spine, before she spoke again
"Are you going to enjoy the dancing this evening, John?"
This was another test, and from Sherlock's suddenly tense form, he didn't think they would get out of this one, but John smiled softly, and squeezed Sherlock's hand to shut the mans mouth
"I intend to Ariadne, Sherlock insisted on introducing us before we began the evening properly though"
He could feel Sherlock's eyes on him, before they flicked to Mycroft who was purposefully staring at the cane in his hand. It took moments for the consulting detective to bend his mind to the problem, and Ariadne winked at John while her younger son was distracted
"How irresponsible of him, I suggest you boys go and have fun, Mycroft, weren't you going to introduce me to that assistant of yours?"
John grinned and tugged a shocked Sherlock into the crowds of people without a sound of protest till they stood near the centre of the room
"You said you couldn't dance"
"You didn't believe me"
They began moving round the room after a few false starts, but eventually they joined the crowds of people in a smooth waltz
"I was right"
"You were wrong Sherlock, that's what I've been doing all week, taking a crash course in dance lessons"
Sherlock missed a step and John stumbled
"You... what?"
"Don't do that, it's hard enough when you're doing it right, Sherlock" John muttered, his face flushed as he avoided his lovers questions.
They began moving smoothly around the hall again and it took a while before Sherlock spoke again, his mind turning over the events of the last week
"You... went and took dance lessons"
"Yes... You didn't think I wanted to dance, and I did, not that you left me much time..." John sighed before continuing, his tone softening "I'm not always comfortable with public displays of affection Sherlock, but it's not because I'm ashamed to be seen with you, or because I don't want you"
He felt Sherlock stiffen, and tugged the taller man closer, almost too close for the dance
"I simply don't want to share you or your reactions with anyone else" the doctor whispered and Sherlock flushed
"So that's why you took over when I..."
John waited to see if Sherlock would finish, but he didn't so John sighed "When I wouldn't let you pin me to a wall and have you wicked way with me? Yes, because it was unnecessary, and for the wrong reasons"
The dance continued to something slow that John didn't know, and Sherlock pulled the doctor flush against his body and pressed their foreheads together, watching the man in amazement as John began grinning
"It was very hot though Sherlock" he whispered, "If you wanted to keep that in mind for when we get home, I promise to be surprised"
Sherlock laughed softly, and when he finished that glowing smile he shared with his mother stayed on his face, and John pointedly didn't mention the dampness to the other man's eyes. He knew how much this simple dance in public, had meant to Sherlock. He didn't need to mention it, Sherlock did it for him
"I love you, John"
