Sherlock returns home for Christmas Break. Father greets him formally, as if it's been four hours since they last saw each other instead of four months. The first question he asks is whether or not Sherlock has heard anything from Oxford.
"Yes. Rejected," Sherlock says, staring defiantly at Father.
Father nods. "I expected as much."
Sherlock stalks upstairs to put away his luggage. As he unzips one of his bags, he hears Mycroft come in. Father sounds excited (well, as excited as he ever is) to see Mycroft. Sherlock lets out an angry sigh. (Really, Father, must your favouritism be so blatant?)
Sherlock decides there's no point in trying to talk to either of them. He silently pecks at his Christmas dinner while Father pontificates. Mycroft gorges himself and provides the occasional interjection. (Disgusting.)
Back in his bedroom, Sherlock breathes a sigh of relief. (No more awkward family meals until next Christmas... oh, stupid, stupid, stupid!) Sherlock's greatest fear is repeating this whole debacle at his graduation this spring.
A/N: Next update won't be for a few days - headed out of town for American Thanksgiving!