From Wordwielder:
25) Christmas dinner at 221B
Watson sighed as he tiredly shoveled food into his mouth, barely tasting the traditional fare which had become mere sustinance when he and Holmes had dragged themselves into their flat and fell upon the feast which Mrs. Hudson had prepared for them like a pack of ravenous wolves. He was cold, and sore, and bone tired as was his companion. Fortunately, the remedy for each of these ills was around him.
"Happy Christmas Watson." Holmes said tiredly from the opposite end of the table where he had been shoveling in Christmas goose as if it were about to fly away.
"Happy Christmas Holmes." Watson said equally tiredly.
It was an unfortunate fact that crime didn't stop for Christmas, and if one were to catch the criminals that would escape without their intervention, you yourself couldn't stop for Christmas either.