25th Dec: From sirensbane - Norbury.

A/N: A cheerier one for you all! Also, I know the barest minimum about chess. The game was originally going to be battleships, but unfortunately that didn't exist in Victorian times...

"Norbury."

Holmes's hand stilled. Watson had whispered the word, feather light, in his ear. "Are you certain?"

Watson whispered something further, indistinguishable to all but Holmes, who nodded thoughtfully.

"Very well." He met his opponent's eyes, and his hand moved again. "Knight to E4. Check."

Mycroft Holmes pursed his lips, watching the move intently. "I believe you will regret that, Sherlock." He moved one of his own pieces. "King to B2. King takes Bishop. Check."

Holmes grinned, shifting his pawn. "Pawn to C3. Check."

They continued in this manner for some time. It had been a long-fought battle, three hours of intense and calculated moves. Watson had only intervened at the very end and now returned to his seat at the dinner table beside Lestrade and Mrs Hudson.

"I've never understood chess myself." Lestrade dug enthusiastically into his second helping of potatoes. "Takes so bloody long to finish a game. I could never see the point."

Watson shrugged easily. "It does take patience, if played right."

"Are they even close to finishing, Doctor?" Mrs Hudson nodded her thanks to the footman who topped up her glass. They had all been invited to Mycroft Holmes's for Christmas and she was not used to being waited on in such a manner. "Why Mr Holmes, our Mr Holmes that is, has hardly even touched his meal!"

"I believe they will finish soon," Watson reassured her and, sure enough, a cry of triumph arose from behind them.

"Aha! Checkmate!" Holmes sat back from the chessboard, (he had before been leaning in so close he had been hunched nearly in half). He looked pleased, and perhaps even a little surprised. Mycroft, who had never been beaten at chess before, was stunned.

"Good game, Sherlock." They shook hands. "We shall have to play again soon."

"Not too soon, I hope," Lestrade quipped. "Or else we shall never get to Christmas pudding."

As he returned to the head of the table, Mycroft scrutinised Watson.

"Do you and Sherlock play chess together often, Doctor?"

"Well..."

"Erm..."

Holmes and Watson trailed off, carefully not looking at one another.

"They did." Mrs Hudson sipped innocently at her second glass of sherry. "Until Mr Holmes grew so frustrated that he broke the chess board in half."

The staff had never heard Mycroft laugh before, and certainly not so vigorously that he was forced to clutch the table for support! It was quite alarming and the head butler hoped privately to himself that this instance of Mr Holmes inviting his brother and companions to Christmas dinner would not become a tradition.