Gifting
Sherlock Holmes was never one inclined to sentimentality, and yet buying Christmas gifts had always been a bit of a pet interest of his. It was like a personalized scavenger hunt with the reward of his loved ones putting up with him another year.
Mycroft was easy; cigars and a new pocket watch. After all, it was Holmes's fault his old one barely worked, and his brother detested selecting ornaments like that (the detective knew for a fact that when he had bought his wife's engagement ring, he had paid one of his employees to pick it out).
A trip to a very reputable bookstore yielded two first edition antique anatomy texts for Watson and one on early chemical theories for Mother. He also got her a shawl; it was an old stand-by. Mrs. Hudson always got half a month's rent and Indian tea.
But there was someone extra this year... What on earth would the girl want? He would say pens, but she was never particular about what she wrote with. He had no idea what she read in her spare time besides romance, and he would not lower himself to buying romance novels. He did not dare buy her jewellery; that send the wrong message.
An idea finally flickered into his mind, and he smiled softly. I suppose that will do...