From Madam'zelleG: Lestrade and Watson have a grim assignment: putting up the Yard's Christmas tree

My dear Madam'zelleG, I have just realised that I misread or at least failed to process your prompt. I apologise! However, this does give the opportunity to use David's idea...

"You're doing a fine job, Doctor," Gregory says, ignoring Lestrade completely. "But I think the tree might be listing a bit to the left."

"Well, come 'n' give us a hand then!" the shorter man grumbles from beneath the tree.

Gregory merely walks away without another word, leaving me to rectify the angle of the tree myself, while Lestrade secures it in its stand.

"Looks great!" Inspector Hopkins says, as he hurries by a little later. "Are you going to hang any bells on it? I like the merry sound of sleigh bells."

"You'll have to go and buy some, then," Lestrade says, but Hopkins is already out of earshot.

"Haven't you got any tinsel?" Bradstreet asks of us, after stopping for a moment to watch us work. We are now decorating with ribbons and coloured glass balls. "That old ribbon is a bit dog-eared."

"Don't you think we'd use it, if we had it?" Lestrade snaps. "Anyway, it'll look all right, once we've finished."

We are just about to add candles when Holmes strides in. He stands for some moments and then decides to poke a few sprigs of holly and a poinsettia flower into the tree from a nearby arrangement.

"Oi!" Lestrade removes them again and hands them back. "You said you were too busy to help, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, so don't you start interfering now! Put these back where they came from - I don't want them dying on the tree, thank you."

Holmes shrugs his shoulders but does as instructed without a word of argument.

"What about some gold candles?" he asks, as I am reaching for the box of white candles, purchased with money from the Yard's petty cash.

"We couldn't afford fancy candles," Lestrade snaps at him, losing the remainder of his patience. "What do you think this is? Buckingham Palace?"

Holmes shrugs a second time. "Well, if you do not want them, perhaps Mrs. Watson would like them."

This said, he hands me a box of expensive candles with a small smile.

Lestrade gasps at him. "Is that what you were up to, this morning?"

My companion chuckles. "I thought I might surprise you. Is there anything else that you might need?"

The inspector grins at him. "Well, someone did mention sleigh bells..."

"I am not traipsing through London, carrying noise makers," Holmes informs him sharply. "Here, Watson, you can purchase them. This should be sufficient."

Lestrade laughs merrily. "I was only joking, Mr. Holmes. Thank you for the candles. Would you like to help us with them?"

We work together to finish decorating the tree and then share some mince pies and mulled wine, which Mrs. Lestrade has kindly packed her husband off with, along with cinnamon biscuits, supplied by my wife. I wonder if that is the reason for Holmes to conveniently appear to help, for he is not usually inclined to trim a tree.

Original response:

December is always a busy month - for me, it is a month in the dreaded influenza season and the ice and snow also provide ample sprains and fractures. For Holmes and Scotland Yard, it is a month of crime; most commonly, a month of robberies and thefts. As Holmes has told me more than once, even the honest (poor) man is tempted to turn to crime at this time of year, if only to provide his loved ones with a little extra food and perhaps a small gift.

December 1896 was a particularly trying one for our friends at the yard, though Holmes was mostly spared - petty thefts rarely involved him. However, when I happened to pass Lestrade on the street, he looked so bone weary that I feared he might be nearing a point of collapse.

"He looked dreadful," I informed Holmes over dinner. "I should like to help in some way - even if we can only share a little Christmas cheer."

My companion frowned at me. "If our friends at the yard are wearing themselves out, what good will 'Christmas cheer' do for them?"

"Oh, Holmes!" said I with a groan. "Have you learnt nothing from your time spent with me? It will... provide something for them to draw from - something to hold onto. Surely, you can understand that?"

He shrugged and cast his eyes down to his empty plate. "I suppose you are right. What do you suggest?"

So it was that we found ourselves in the Scotland Yard mess hall - or, what-ever it is that they call the police equivalent of the place in which the official force gather to eat, anyway - erecting a Christmas tree and setting up a present distribution list.

"What are you doing?" I asked, when my companion started to check the list.

"Ensuring that nobody was missed, naturally. Oh, Watson! You are not included. There. That remedies that."

I glared at his turned back. "I quite intentionally kept us off of that list."

Holmes shrugged and grinned at me from over his shoulder. "Well, then, this is not going to be much of a surprise, is it? They will know who it was that erected this tree if we are not mentioned, surely? Lestrade would have listed your name. Oh! Don't look like that! I have written with my left hand and you got Billy to write the other names - that should keep them guessing!"

I snorted. "In that case, Holmes, you should also add your own name. And then get back here - I cannot hold this tree up like this for very much longer!"

Holmes tutted and returned to securing the tree in the base which we had purchased for it. The base was fashioned from cast iron, brightly painted in red and green.

When at last the tree was secure, we set about decorating it with ribbons and glass balls of various colours and patterns. Then came the candles, which we clipped on and left to be lit.

We were just leaving with our empty boxes when Lestrade stepped out of a cab, looking as weary as he had when I had passed him on the street.

"Before he sees us! Quick!" Holmes hissed, grabbing me by the elbow and dragging me into the shadows.

We watched Lestrade approach the building at a plod, his head down, his steps weary. I doubt very much that he would have seen us had we not moved from the path before him.

Holmes heaved a sigh of relief, his breath a plume of steam in the frigid air. "Let us go, before anyone else arrives."

I nodded in agreement and we strode in the direction of the nearest cab stand together. Despite the chill in the air, I felt somewhat warmed by the small kindness that we had done and one glance at my companion told me that it was the same with him.

"It was the queerest thing," Lestrade told us, that evening. ""The writing on the list of names looked like that of a child, but that tree...!"

""Would you like me to look into it?" Holmes asked, loading his pipe.

Lestrade shook his head. "I wouldn't waste your time on it, Mr. Holmes," said he. "But you must agree that it is a queer thing. Why would anyone break in at Scotland Yard, only to trim up for us?"

"Perhaps someone felt that you all needed to be reminded of the promise of peace and goodwill for all men," said I. "Even for the official police force."

The inspector considered this and then smiled. "Perhaps..."

Paul and David found it difficult to agree upon this one. Paul wanted the tree and decorations to be a surprise, while David wanted me to write a piece in which Holmes and Watson are decorating with numerous interruptions/unwelcome advice. I feel that this works the better, however.