Months went by and Céline was feeling a lot better about everything. Her PTSD had been under control with her new prescription and weekly therapist visit and her and Sherlock had gotten very close. Céline had moved into 221b Baker Street in late November. The move had helped her triggers because she no longer had to see little signs that reminded her of the kidnapping. Now it was Christmas Eve. It had been a busy day for Céline. She had to wrap up some things at Scotland Yard in the morning and then had to drop by the store to get a gift for Mrs. Hudson and Watson. The stores were full of people scrambling for last minute gifts. Céline quickly purchased a new tea set for Mrs. Hudson and a tablet for Watson so he could work on the blog on the go. In the days before Christmas, Sherlock and Céline decided to not get each other anything for the holiday. But Céline had broken the decision to get him some odds and ends for his violin. When she got home to 221b Baker Street she quickly rushed up the stairs and hid the presents in her and Sherlock's bedroom before sneaking into the front room to borrow some wrapping paper from Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock and Watson were both out. They had gone to pick up a jumper for Watson to wear at the little Christmas get together they were having that evening. Mrs. Hudson was cooking. When Céline was finished with the wrapping she put the presents under the tree and got ready.
That evening everyone was sitting around in the flat talking. Snow had begun to fall. Sherlock was playing Christmas jingles for the group. Watson, Sherlock, Céline, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Watson's new girlfriend were all sitting around the living room. Céline got a text as he played. It was from Lestrade.
Merry Christmas.
She sadly replied, hoping that he was having a good time with his family. The previous week Watson had invited him to come over for the party but Lestrade had declined. Sherlock finished playing and everyone clapped. He set his violin down and sat beside Céline.
"Lovely! Sherlock, that was lovely!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, hiccuping. "I wish you could have worn the antlers!" Céline giggled at this. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock responded. Molly was nervous. Her eyes wandered to Sherlock and Céline as they shared a look. Céline offered him a sip of her cup of tea and he drank some. Molly couldn't help but notice that Sherlock and Céline were matching. Sherlock was wearing a red silk tie that matched Céline's red silk turtleneck dress. Watson walked over to Mrs. Hudson and took away her wine glass, passing her a cup of tea.
"Mrs. H…" Watson laughed as she took the cup. Watson's girlfriend passed over a tray of mince pies to Sherlock and Céline.
"No thank you, Sarah," Sherlock spoke, calling her the name of Watson's previous girlfriend. Céline turned bright red and smacked Sherlock's knee. The woman tensed up and sat back in her chair angrily.
"Uh…He's not good with names." Watson spoke, rushing over to comfort her. Sherlock frowned.
"No, no wait. I know this." Sherlock spoke. Céline tugged on his sleeve in protest. But Sherlock was determined to get the name right, "No, Sarah was the doctor, and then there was the one with the spots, and then the one with the nose; and then ... who was after the boring teacher?"
"Nobody." The woman snapped. She was the teacher. Céline cleared her throat awkwardly.
"Jeanette!" Sherlock exclaimed. He looked at Céline with a look of triumph. "Ah, the process of elimination." Watson glared at Sherlock and ushered Jeanette away to sit by the fireplace. Sherlock's phone beeped and he took it out. It was a text from Irene that said,
Mantelpiece
Sherlock and Céline exchanged a glance. They both looked over to the mantelpiece, there was a small red box sitting on it. Sherlock stuck his phone in his pocket.
"Let's ignore it," Sherlock spoke. Céline rubbed his knee before getting up.
"No, it's alright," Céline spoke before walking over to grab the package. It was wrapped in red paper with a black string. She returned to the couch and passed it to him. "You should open it." Sherlock sigh and nodded. He unwrapped the paper to reveal a small silk box. Inside the box was a cell phone. Irene's cell phone. Sherlock frowned. He stood up and took Céline's hand.
"Céline and I are going to step out," Sherlock spoke before heading for the door, pulling Céline along with him. She grabbed her jacket as they went downstairs and outside.
"Sherlock, what is it?" Céline asked as Sherlock called Mycroft.
"Irene Adler said this phone was her life. I have a feeling that her giving it up is a sign." Sherlock explained. Céline frowned.
"Does that mean that she's…" Céline asked, worried. Sherlock shrugged.
"Probably," Sherlock replied. Mycroft answered. He had been sitting in an armchair in his office. Sherlock put it on speaker so Céline could hear.
"Oh dear Lord. We're not going to have Christmas phone calls now, are we? Haven't they passed a new law?" Mycroft exclaimed.
"I think you're going to find Irene Adler tonight," Sherlock spoke. Mycroft scoffed. Suddenly Céline's phone rang. It was Lestrade. She exchanged a glance with Sherlock before answering.
"Hello?" Céline asked into the phone, stepping away from Sherlock.
"I'm so sorry to call this late. There's been a body found. You're much closer than I am to Scotland Yard, can you drop by the scene?" Lestrade asked.
"Of course I can," Céline replied before Lestrade thanked her and hung up. Sherlock had gotten off the phone with Mycroft. "Sherlock…I think she just turned up."
It was a couple of hours later and Céline was standing around Irene's body with Sherlock and Mycroft at the hospital. A sheet was over her body. Molly had joined them. Céline felt sick.
"Thank you for coming in Molly," Céline spoke, breaking the silence. Molly nodded.
"That's okay. Everyone else was busy with...Christmas." Molly shrugged. Céline shifted uncomfortably. Sherlock had not gone to the crime scene with her, he had joined her here to identify the body. Céline touched his arm.
"Sherlock…shes a bit…beaten up, her face…" Céline began. "It'll be difficult…" Sherlock nodded.
"That's alright." He replied. Céline nodded and pulled the sheet off of Irene. Sherlock studied it. "It's her." Céline nodded and covered the body back up. Molly watched Sherlock and Céline.
"Thank you, Molly," Céline spoke. Sherlock wandered outside to wait for Céline to finish up the crime scene paperwork to drop off at Scotland Yard. Mycroft joined him. Molly began to put the body away. As they stood there Mycroft watched his brother. Sherlock was watching a family of three who were grieving a family member who had passed away in the lobby of the hospital. All three were sobbing and holding each other. Mycroft followed his gaze.
"Look at them. They all care so much. Do you ever wonder if there's something wrong with us?" Sherlock spoke. Mycroft watched him.
"All lives end. All hearts are broken...I must say I didn't expect the two of you to last this long." Mycroft began. Sherlock didn't look at him or say anything. "I really like her, I do. But, perhaps it was a mistake of mine to advocate it so much..."
"You didn't make the decision for me. I made the decision the moment I saw her." Sherlock admitted. Mycroft nodded.
"It's getting serious, isn't it? That row you two had about Irene before she moved in with you. My sources say that you two spend a lot of time together in your bedroom, with the curtains drawn and the lights out..." Mycroft observed. "Irene even couldn't stop talking about how much she hated Céline. She mentioned it quite a bit to us in the last few months."
"I could care less what anyone thinks of Céline, I think she's..." Sherlock began but stopped himself. He had already given away too much of how deep his feelings for her had become. Mycroft observed him. His brother was in love. There was no doubt in Mycroft's mind.
"You think she's...what?" Mycroft pressed. Sherlock looked at him, he didn't answer. "Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock," Mycroft spoke. Céline joined the two men outside. Sherlock and Mycroft were starting at each other and Sherlock went to Céline, taking her hand.
"Merry Christmas, Mycroft," Sherlock spoke. Mycroft looked from Sherlock to Céline and smiled.
"And a happy New Year," Mycroft replied
Their bedroom was dark except for the moonlight that shined through the small space between the window and the curtain. The floor was littered with their Christmas Eve clothes. They had just finished making love. The bed was messy and their heavy breathing filled the room. Sherlock laid in Céline's arms, his face was buried in her neck. Céline's chin was resting on top of his head as she held him. As their bodies cooled down he softly kissed her neck. He didn't care what Mycroft had to say. She was his heart.
