Gingerbread
"I don't understand why I have to attend." Sherlock complained.
"Because Sherlock, you're the most important person in my life and I would like my parents to know who you are." John explained, noticing the spark of affection in Sherlock's eyes—contrary to his current attitude.
John's mother had phoned him the other day and had invited John (and by extension Sherlock) that they should (had to) come visit for dinner. Sherlock and John had already planned to spend Christmas alone together, so John decided to visit a couple of weeks before.
Thankfully, Mycroft lent them a car. A half-hour cab ride, or train ride, was not something Sherlock cared for.
"Is it just your parents?" Sherlock asked.
"Well…" John's voiced trailed off.
"How much of your family will be there."
"Undetermined."
"Lovely." Sherlock fumed.
It was dinner time at the Watson household and it was…noisy. Sherlock had never seen such a large congregation of small blonde headed children, much less a group that was so unruly. Initially, it was charming to see a handful of miniature John's running about, but the charm quickly washed away.
Sherlock kept close and quiet next to John, who was genuinely happy to be home. As John chatted with family members, Sherlock saw that all the children were running excitedly into a room. Sherlock looked to John, who was immersed in conversation with his uncle; decided he wasn't needed, and followed the children.
John turned away from his uncle to check up on Sherlock, only to find him not there. He scanned the room and again, no sign of Sherlock.
"Did you see where Sherlock went?" John asked his mum
"I believe he followed all of the children into the spare room." She said, pointing to an open door.
As John approached the room he had expected to hear the loudness of the children, but oddly there wasn't any. John entered the renovated spare room to see his mother's friend's children crowded around the small table, and more importantly crowded around Sherlock.
Sherlock was staring intently at the icing as he spread it on the gingerbread. Carefully, he and a little girl pressed the pieces together, creating a perfect house. She laughed and smiled and the rest of the children cheered. John even saw Sherlock grin a bit.
"Very nice." John commented from the doorway.
"Yes, well, it's simple engineering. Juvenile, really." Sherlock sniffed, but his eyes were bright.
They were finally back at 221b, John was making tea and Sherlock was updating his website. John sat down and smiled at Sherlock.
"What?" Sherlock inquired.
"You were great today." John said.
"I insulted your mother's sister."
"She's easily offended."
"You're not mad?" Sherlock looked confused.
"You were great with the children." John elaborated.
"Ah." Sherlock said, understanding.
Sherlock scooted closer to John and wrapped himself around the doctor's torso. This was their usual way of cuddling, with Sherlock situating himself around John and John dealing with the arrangement of limbs. They both relaxed against each other and John kissed the top of Sherlock's head.
"You smell like gingerbread." John smiled.
"Enjoy it; I will never do that ever again." Sherlock said into John's neck.
"Ever again?" John asked skeptically.
"Maybe one more time." Sherlock said after a minute, making them both laugh.