The 12 Christmas Riddles

Chapter 13

A/N – Hopefully this will close any loose ends and round the story off. This is the last chapter.

A/N – I would also like to remind people that I use Australia spellings and colour is correct for us while color will get you into trouble in Australian schools.

A/N – I may also keep forgetting the Christmas is in winter in the UK, so if the clothes throughout the story are wrong, my bad. I've only seen snow once when I was ten. (FYI – 16 yrs ago)

John awoke with a start, glaring daggers at the man standing over him. He grabbed his pillow and seeing where this was headed and really not desiring another argument involving pillows to the face, Sherlock made a run for it.

Two hours later, Sherlock tried again, being the more reasonable hour of 7 am, John was less cranky. In all fairness, John hadn't expected the man to let him have this long. Getting up slowly, John followed Sherlock down to the lounge, wrapping his dressing gown around him as he did so.

Sherlock took his token spot on the couch and looked at John expectantly.

"Well?"

"Well what Sherlock?"

"The clue, the puzzle"

"Breakfast"

"What about it? That cannot be the answer John, it makes no sense"

"No, it wouldn't, and I meant I want breakfast"

Sherlock withdrew John's gun from somewhere and aimed at the wall threateningly

"You can not be bored already Sherlock, besides, what did the poor wall ever do to you?"

"It mocks me with its walliness"

"Right… breakfast, toast Sherlock?

"Yes, yes, you and your needs for food, you really shouldn't let your body control you John"

"As opposed to you who collapse from lack of food, its fuel Sherlock. Even cars need fuel"

"The toast and tea John!"

After ten minutes of Sherlock glaring at the eating blogger, Sherlock jumped from his seat, grabbed John's tea and sculled it.

"There, your done, puzzle!"

Sighing and knowing it was useless to argue further and deeply concerned about his lack of tea intake. John stood and looked up at the again bouncing detective.

"Alright, did you work out what the riddle meant?"

Still thinking about it, Sherlock went over it again in his head.

Are you saying that you mouth is making promises that your body cannot keep?

You once said on case, that balance was the key

Now's your change to prove it

On this wheel of doom?

"We had a case at a county fair not the long ago, you liked the unicycle tricks, it's a unicycle challenge, but what exactly does that entail john"

Sherlock had no intention of mentioning that he had only just figured it out.

"Simple really, you have to preform a basic trick on a unicycle. You'll find everything you need in the attic room of the building. Mrs. Hudson kindly let me store the equipment there until needed. When you've perfected a trick, and I don't include getting on and going a few meters a trick, come get me, show me, and if it is good enough, you'll get the key."

Sherlock went down the stairs and past Mrs. Hudsons door, continuing down to the lower level. Upon opening the door he found a chocolate coloured unicycle with dark brown spokes and seat. He also found a helmet, knee and elbow pads and a first aid kit. Inside the first aid kit was a 'teach yourself to unicycle' book, pfft, useless decided Sherlock tossing it over his shoulder, and voucher for lessons. Also useless decided Sherlock.

Standing and walking over to the unicycle, Sherlock removed his coat and turned up the heating in the flat. He was not going to risk it being damaged in the spokes and he certainly was not going to freeze.

On his first attempt to mount the cycle, it fell over. On his second attempt, he went right over the top of it. On his third attempt he managed to use the wall to balance. It was then he decided he'd better adjust the damned thing to his height.

After the initial adjustment and then a few more, he final managed to get his balance. Now he just had to work out how to move. Like riding a bike he figured he'd just pedal. Nope, wrong. Off he came. And again. And again. Thank heavens John was letting him embarrass himself alone. And on that thought he got up and did a sweep of the room for planted cameras.

Finally managing to get across the room, admit wobbly and uncoordinated, Sherlock decided to practice away form the wall. It was 11 o'clock before he made it across the room with no problems. He'd told John it was simple. Smugness' does come to bite you in the gut though and it was at 2pm when John came down to copious amounts of profanity and loud banging to give Sherlock some lunch and tea that he found the man, a bit battered and bruised for his own good. John Laughed. Hard.

Shaking with mirth he silently handed the grumpy detective his lunch and tea, then started to tidy up, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

"You never told me how you knew about my wants, not to mention how you had those 'connections' Sherlock asked swallowing a bite of his sandwich.

"What, you can't you deduce it Sherlock?"

"John…"

"Alright, alright, I found your diary, I read some and realized… you certainly had an interesting childhood by the way. And I'm on your side with the Mycroft thing. He's a jerk."

Sherlock stared, just stared.

"Before you go on about privacy I would remind you about previous occurrences of you invading mine…."

Sherlock continued to stare

"Anyway… I realized you'd had little playtime as a kid, I still cannot believe you never went to or had a single birthday party. I figured I'd help a few childhood dreams come alive, so to speak. As for the shooting range, I figured you needed to learn to shoot properly, in a supervised situation"

Sherlock looked back down at what little remained of his story, John was on his side against Mycroft. Best. Present. Ever.

Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade knew what I was up to because I asked them for help. Mycroft bullied me into letting him help and as for my friends, well… I do keep up some of my other friendships and Mandy was one of my favorite girlfriends of Harry and Private Samuels explained it himself basically. We are army buddies. As for Mr. White, he was one of my patients when I worked at the asylum. No. I will not give you a tour of the place; they might not let you out again. They were happy to help, friends help each other."

"And the money, you always complain we are short…" Sherlock asked

"Easy, the wall fund"

"And what prey tell is the wall fund?"

"A fund I started to pay for damages, I take a bit of each of our incomes each week to pay for damages to the apartment, since the wall cops it worst, I named it the wall fund. Decided this was more worth while though, don't you agree?"

Smiling Sherlock agreed whole-heartedly.

"You going to show my that trick Sherlock?"

"No, I need more practice."

"Fair enough, you want the key anyway?"

"Normally I would say no, but in this instance I suspect waiting for the tricks will prove a rather long wait, so yes."

John pulled out album from under the floorboards.

"This has pictures of all your adventures over the last few days. I got everyone to help, the key Sherlock, was, is and will always be to have fun, you need to have more, preferably less violet, fun"

Sherlock looked at each page carefully, he had never seen himself smiling in any picture before, yet here was proof, John was right, he'd had fun. Real fun.

Sherlock suddenly grabbed John into a tight hug.

"Thank you John, no-one has ever done so much for me before that didn't directly help them! Thank you John, Thank you!"

"That's all right mate, your happiness this festive season is the best gift a friend could ask for, but I still want to see those tricks at some point"

"Of course, I'd never pass up a challenge"

John and Sherlock laughed as Sherlock looked through the book again.

"Best Christmas ever! Maybe it wasn't such a horrible time of year after all"

The End