A/N: It's getting close to Christmas, and I just know that Sherlock would be the worst at trying to wait for presents to be opened. So here we have Sherlock acting (as usual) like a pouting 5 year old. Yaaay!
DISCLAIMER: I only own Lizzie, unfortunately. Not Sherlock, nor John. Please don't sue me then!
"Daddy? What are you doing?" Sherlock startled so badly he fell forward and smacked his head on the dresser in his and John's bedroom. "Ouch," he hissed. "Oops," Lizzie said from the doorway. "Sorry, Daddy." She darted in and kissed his forehead. When he looked at her in confusion, she rolled her eyes. "It's to make it better," she told him as if it were obvious. "What are you doing?" Sherlock glared at her. He'd sort of been hoping she'd let that line of questioning go. "Looking for something," he muttered dismissively.
He'd almost forgotten about the morning's activities, until Lizzie decided to speak up at dinner time. "Daddy was looking for something in your room today, Papa," John turned one of his Looks on Sherlock, who slouched lower in his chair in a clear admission of guilt. "Interesting," the doctor said, sounding like he found the whole thing amusing, if a little irritating.
After the dishes were done and Lizzie was busy playing in the sitting room, John decided to strike up a conversation about It.
"Sherlock," he began. "Darling, love of my life...why would you try to ruin your Christmas surprises?" His voice was calm, he wasn't yelling, not even snapping. And it made Sherlock feel even worse. He mumbled something unintelligible.
"What was that?" John asked. "I said," snapped Sherlock. "That I was curious and impatient." Sitting back on his heels, John regarded his partner with amazement. "Did you just admit a fault?" The detective snorted. "Don't get used to it," John smiled. "I won't."
"Papa!" Lizzie called from the next room. "Can I have some biscuits?"
A/N: Fluffy fluff fluff! I love fluff, just saying. Please review and...
DFTBA darlings, :)