I know it's nearly February, but Happy New Year!

I hope you're all safe and well.

Thank you to everyone that followed and clicked the favourite button.

A very big thank you to: bored411 (Thank you, and not just for the review),

Guest (romance is coming, I promise),

TimeWarrior42 (Congratulations on graduating from Undergrad! Thank you for sticking with me and Emily through everything. Your review (and you) means the world to me and it's one that I keep going back to read to help keep me going!)

and Ca301 (Your review from the last chapter is also one that I keep going back to. It makes me want to keep going. I can't thank you enough for the encouragement. You and your review mean the world to me as well.)

Please forgive any spelling/punctuation mistakes I've missed.

Snippets from the month of December whilst I try and fix a few issues I have with the next chapter.

Upon reaching the living room of Baker Street, Emily didn't even bother taking her coat and shoes off before falling face first onto the sofa, much to the amusement of John.

"Have fun, did you?" Emily had just come back from a shopping trip with Molly. When her friend had asked her if she had wanted to go with her, Emily had thought it would only take an hour, maybe two at the most. She needed to get a few more things herself, so had figured it would be a good idea. What she hadn't bargained for was using up most of her day off and - now she was home - barely having any down time to herself before she went to bed. She had had a rather nice time with her friend, she couldn't deny that. But did all women take that long shopping?

"Hmm." She grumbled into the cushion her face was currently pressed against.

She heard him chuckle as he approached and jumped a little when he grasped her ankle. "Sorry. Thought you'd want some help." He eased her shoes off, disappearing for a moment before she felt him take her coat from her shoulders. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes please."

"Tea? Coffee?"

"Margarita."

"That bad?" He teased.

"I've never understood why women take so long to go shopping?" Her voice was muffled as she complained into the cushion.

"I'm assuming Molly is the first woman you've been shopping with?"

She nodded. "It's so...so...-"

"Boring?" He supplied for her from the kitchen.

"Yes!"

He laughed again. "Did Molly have a good time? Did she buy much?"

"I think she did. I'm pretty sure she bought enough to open up her own shop. She bought at least two dresses for the gathering you've invited her to because she couldn't decide on which one in the shop?"

"Not buy anything for yourself?" John lent against the door frame as he watched her flop around in an attempt to get comfy.

"Nothing really caught my eye." She shrugged.

"Did you even really look?"

"Not really."

"Have you really never been out for a girl's day before?" He called out as he made their drinks.

"Nope. Shopping has always just been me. In and out. Not that I've ever had much reason to actually go shopping with others. Or even for others."

John came back in, moving carefully so he wouldn't spill any of the drink he'd just made. To the blonde's delight, he had made her hot chocolate. "That's scolding hot, wait a few minutes before you drink it please." It was like he knew her. "Why don't you go and get out of those jeans and put some pyjamas on?" He really did know her. "Have you had anything to eat?" She shook her head a fraction, just enough to inform him of her answer and let him know that she hadn't wanted to give him the answer.

"Maybe that's why I can feel a headache coming on?"

"More than likely. Go and change, I'll make you something."

"Then I won't be able to sleep properly." She whinged.

"Nothing heavy, just a sandwich or something. We can watch something while you eat if you like?"

"Like what?"

"I think there's a new Midsomer Murders on in a bit. Fancy that?"

"Is Sherlock going to come in and solve it before the opening credits have even finished?"

"Well, I can't promise he won't." Emily sighed, maybe she should just go to bed? "You need to eat something. I'm not allowing you to go to bed with an empty stomach." Apparently he could read her mind.

"Alright, fine, but only because you've already made me a hot chocolate."

Emily was getting tired of the Christmas music. If it wasn't Slade asking if she was hanging her stocking on her wall, it was Wizzard telling her he wished it could be Christmas everyday. Emily had to question why someone would want it to be Christmas everyday. Surely it would get boring?

She wouldn't have minded overhearing these two songs, if she had perhaps heard them in a different location. Perhaps that may have even helped her feel a little festive.

As it was, she had heard them every time she walked down the corridor to her office. As if someone was purposely watching for her to arrive at work before pressing play on one of them. Whoever it was, she had decided she did not like them. Why was St Bart's even playing Christmas music? She was fairly certain she had never encountered any kind of music in a hospital before - except perhaps from the reception desk if the receptionist had a radio - but reminded herself she had only ever been to one other hospital that she could remember and that had been when her Gran had been shot and she hadn't exactly been paying attention then.

She had kept her door firmly closed at all times, so as to avoid the racket. Which meant - she was told by Mike one afternoon - that she had missed Roid dancing down the corridor like a drunk dad at a wedding.

She had gone as far as putting her earphones in so she wouldn't have to hear it. Even if she wasn't actually listening to anything else, at least they muffled the sound.

A knock on her door broke her concentration one cold morning, and she dreaded it being opened though brightened when Mike popped his head in. "Want me to come in?"

"And close the door behind you? Yes please!"

The rest of him followed his head and she noted the gift bag he held in his hand. "Since I'm on holiday after today until the new year, I thought I'd give you these now." He looked rather pleased with himself as she took the bag from him.

"You didn't have to get me anything." She tried to peek into the opening but was only met with the sight of glittery paper.

"Well, I wanted to."

"Well, since I knew today was your last day, you won't mind if I give you this then." She reached down under her desk and retrieved the bag she had bought with her. She too felt rather pleased with herself as his smile dropped.

"Em - "

"I wanted to." She smiled at him. "It's nothing special really." She shrugged. "How come you're off so early?" There was still a couple of weeks left until the big day and Emily would have thought he was working until at least the week before.

"Got some holiday I need to take." He attempted to take a look in his own gift bag but was also met with the sight of wrapping paper.

"No peeking." She chided him playfully. "But really, thank you for whatever this is." She placed it down on the desk and wrapped her arms around her friend.

"Don't be so silly Em." He enveloped her up in a strong cuddle.

"I'll miss you." She informed him, already feeling lost at the idea of him not being in the building.

"It's only for the Christmas period, I'm not actually leaving for good." He chuckled. "But I'll miss you too."

"What if Roid bothers me?" She rested her chin on him to look up at him.

He petted her hair with the hand not holding his gift. "You do know he's off now until the new year as well?"

"I didn't know that?"

"I would have thought he would have told you."

"It is a bit odd that he hasn't. Maybe he's given up?" She asked hopefully.

"I'd like to think he has."

"Has John invited you to the gathering at Baker Street?"

"He has, yes."

"Are you coming? Please say you are?"

"I'm not actually sure. Might be seeing some family. But I'll let you know, alright?" She nodded. "Right then, shall we have lunch today? I'll come and get you at one?"

"I can't wait!" He placed a peck on her forehead and finally let her out of his embrace. "Thank you for my present." He moved back to the door.

"And thank you for mine!" He smiled at her before closing the door behind him.

Later that afternoon, she paid no mind to Slade as Noddy Holder shouted that it was Christmas. Even if she had, with Mike beside her, she found she wouldn't have minded so much anyway.

It had been long enough that there should have been another letter delivered by now (if it was important, like Sherlock had told her) and Emily had asked John to go with her to go and check. They had asked Sherlock if he had wanted to go along as well, but had received no answer from him and had left him in the flat. More than likely he wouldn't have even noticed they had gone out and Emily wondered if he was talking to the empty living room.

Emily unlocked the front door and went to take a step in when she saw a familiar figure standing in the hallway. Eyes widened in shock, she quickly stepped back out again and slammed the door.

John frowned after walking into her back. "I thought you wanted to go inside and pick up the post?"

"This is as close to inside as I like to get."

"Ha ha. Very funny. Come on, let's go in, it's freezing out here." He nodded at the door, indicating for her to open it again.

"Do we have to? Can't we just go home?"

John held her arms gently, his confused smile in place on his face. She felt awful for asking him to come as it was, felt like she was being a bother. She felt even worse now she knew that a certain someone was waiting inside. "There's nothing to be scared of Em. You're not by yourself anymore. It will take us a couple of minutes, if that."

She couldn't really say anything to that, so unlocked the door again and stepped inside slowly. Thankfully, no one was waiting for her this time, though she noted the curtains of the landing window had been closed, informing her of where he'd gone.

She closed the door behind them and bent down to pick up the post.

"Nice place this." John commented as he looked around.

"Do you want to have a look around down here? I might just grab a few more books from my room whilst we're here."

"Do you want me to come up with you?"

"No, no! It's ok!" She answered too quickly and he frowned at her again, obviously wondering why she was fine now but moments before had not wanted to set foot inside. "I'd like to go by myself, you know, prove I'm just overthinking."

He nodded to himself, seemingly thinking her words over. "Yeah, alright. Shout if you need me though." He took the handful of post from her so she could do what she needed.

"Yeah, ok." She ascended, opening the curtains back up as she went past them.

"I like what you've done with the place." Jim commented as she entered her old room. He was sitting on her bed facing the door, waiting for her to come in. "It's very...you. Almost as nice as your room at Baker Street."

"What are you doing here?" She whispered and closed the door behind her, afraid John would hear them.

"I came by to drop off your Christmas present." He lifted a red envelope from the pillow and waved it around madly. "Figured you'd be back eventually. Did Sherlock know I'd visited?" He grinned hopefully at her.

While John had not seen through her lie, she was certain Sherlock knew differently. Every now and then she watched him eye his chair as if he no longer trusted it though she had managed to avoid being questioned about that particular day. "Look, I can't talk now, John's downstairs."

"That doesn't mean we don't have time."

"Yes, it does."

"I'd say we have a couple of minutes before the good Doctor comes upstairs to find you. Talk to me Emmy. The way you used to, not you asking me questions all the time." He whined.

"I haven't got you anything for Christmas." It was probably the dumbest thing she could have said at that moment, but it was all that came to mind.

He laughed to himself, shaking his head a little. "I don't want anything."

"Why is this house so clean?"

He tutted at her, wagging a finger at her as he stood and approached her. "No questions." He tucked her hair behind her ear, leaving no space between them.

"Em?" John called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Eugh," The man before her rolled his eyes. "What did you have to bring him for?"

She couldn't help the slight amused smirk that lifted the corner of her mouth. "Yeah?" She called out in reply to John as she grabbed Jim's arm and shoved him behind the door just as John knocked. She opened it with a book in her hand, making it seem as if she was about to leave.

"What took you so long?"

"Couldn't find what I was looking for. Got it now though. Let's head back."

"Don't forget about the post." She had forgotten about the post.

"Where did you put it? You did take it from me, didn't you?"

"It's on the kitchen counter."

"Oh. Thanks."

As the pair left her old house, it took all of Emily's willpower not to glance up at the upstairs window, wondering if Jim was watching them leave. She never even thought of the envelope he had waved around in his hand until long after she had arrived home.

Flicking through the post later that afternoon, none of them caught her eye the way the previous one had done. Mainly because it was all fast food leaflets and one letter inviting her to make an appointment at the opticians. What a waste of time that had been.

"Do you think maybe we've gone a bit overboard with the lights?" Emily asked as she took a step back to admire their handy work.

The three flatmates had that afternoon, been out decoration shopping and Emily, always distracted by the fairy lights, had ended up buying a few sets. John had found the other bits he'd wanted as Sherlock hadn't been remotely interested and had followed Emily around as she inspected every set of lights the shop had to offer. At every set she had picked up to purchase, he had asked her where she would put them and only when she had run out of answers did she ask him to take her away from the displays so she wouldn't buy them all.

"Not at all." John wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Looks lovely."

This was her first Christmas since she was a child that she had not been by herself and while she had made some effort in her old home, it had always just been the basics. While the three of them (or more John and Emily) had agreed there was no room for a tree, it didn't feel any less special.

She turned just in time to watch Sherlock place a Santa hat on the skull on the mantelpiece. When he spun to face his flatmates, looking pleased with himself, Emily had to stifle a giggle as John groaned and mumbled something under his breath.

As Emily attempted to leave the kitchen, Sherlock wanted to enter it. The two almost bumped into one another before doing the awkward side step twice before Sherlock gently grabbed onto Emily's arms and maneuvered himself around her.

"Thanks." She giggled to him, receiving a a smirk in return.

John and Mrs Hudson, who had been watching from the table tutted that neither of their flatmates had taken any notice of the mistletoe that had been strategically placed on the door frame in the hopes that the two would - finally - share a kiss.

Or a snog - Mrs Hudson wasn't fussed.

"What?" Sherlock questioned upon hearing the noises from them.

"Nothing." John answered with a roll of his eyes. "Consulting Detective my arse." He mumbled to the woman sat beside him.

"I don't think he even saw it dear, let alone observed it." Mrs Hudson added, causing John to almost choke on his coffee.

"Sorry?" Sherlock asked, having not listened to a word either of them had said. Thankfully.

"Oh, nothing love." She waved it away.

John and Mrs Hudson had a bet going. Well, actually, they had a few going.

The first one being; How long would it take Sherlock and Emily to spot the mistletoe John had placed on the door frame to the kitchen?

For this, John had chosen a matter of hours for Sherlock and a week for Emily. Whilst Mrs Hudson had guessed immediately for Sherlock, and Emily a couple of days.

They had both lost this particular bet, because the pair had yet to discover it and they only had a week left until Christmas.

Other bets included: Who would notice it first? How long could John hold off kissing Jeanette under it for? (Both he and Mrs Hudson wanted Sherlock and Emily to be the first ones to kiss under it) And the one they hadn't wanted to make; Would the pair even notice at all? As the list grew longer, the more John realised they were just turning into questions, rather than bets.

At the rate they were going, John was certain neither of them would pay it any attention and both he and his landlady felt a certain amount of frustration . It wouldn't be long before they would start planning on how to get the pair of them to notice it. Even if it did mean they wouldn't be the first pair to kiss underneath it.

Emily's phone was vibrating in her coat pocket and it took her longer than usual to retrieve it. Not that that stopped whoever was calling her. She had hoped that if she took her time then she wouldn't have to answer at all, that the person on the other end would give up and get on with their day. But she was surprised to find it was John calling her.

"Helloooo." She answered.

"Em, I was wondering what you wanted for Christmas. Or that you could just give me a hint at what to get you? We've gone shopping and getting everything today. I hope."

"You've left it until today? But we bought Mrs Hudson's laptop ages ago."

"Well, yes. But we've been busy and now has been the first time we could actually go shopping. What can I get you please?"

"You could just get me a Waterstones voucher?"

"Bit impersonal, you're my best friend, I can't just get you a voucher."

"Well, then a book?"

"Yes, but which books?"

"I only said book. As in one."

"Well, I'm saying books, as in plural."

"Well, anything from the crime section is fine."

"Right. Ok, that's a good idea – Sherlock where are you going? Sherlock? Just a minute Em." She decided not to reply since she figured John would no longer be holding the phone up to his ear anyway. She heard the rustle of clothing and the slight panting of the Doctor, which meant he was more than likely running.

She wondered if she should hang up, but he had told her to hang on. So, hang on she would.

"What are you doing? That's for the actual children not grown men who act like them." Emily frowned. What on earth was she missing? She cursed Roid for putting her down to work. "Oh, for Christ's sake."

"I'm bored!" The unmistakable voice of Sherlock sounded. And he was shouting. With every second that passed, his voice grew louder. Emily could picture John storming ever closer to try and sort out the situation. "So, for Christmas, I want a nice, juicy murder!"

"It's OK, he's with me. We'll be leaving now." John sounded infuriated.

"Yes Sir. Yes, you will." A new voice could be heard and Emily reasoned it was probably security. Or even the Police.

"John?" She tried and was thankful that he came back straight away.

"Yeah, Em, can I call you back?"

"What's going on?"

"I suppose you heard all that?"

"Well, yes. Couldn't not really. Who was he talking to?"

"Father Christmas." He answered as if it should have been obvious.

"WHAT?"

"Yep. Right in front of a line of kids and their parents. Next time, you can take him shopping."

"No thanks."

"Can I call you back?"

"Yeah, I should probably do some work. I stopped to listen to what was happening."

"Wonderful. Speak soon then."

"Bye." Despite what had just occurred sounding rather embarrassing and awful, Emily couldn't help but wish she had been there to witness it first-hand. Oh well, she had no doubt she'd hear all about it when she got home. She wondered if the shopping centre would let her watch the security footage.

"Isn't there some sort of tradition we have to follow now?" Sherlock looked down at her, still dressed in her pyjamas.

"Tradition? After bumping into one another whilst trying to do two totally different things?" He flicked his gaze upwards to the frame above them and Emily glanced up, doing a double take when she realised what they were standing under. "Oh...I'm pretty sure that wasn't there this morning?"

"It was actually. It's been there since you and John decorated."

Her gaze flicked back to the man before her and she found herself frowning at the sight of him standing closer than he had been moments before. She watched his hands reach forwards to place them on her elbows, or at least that's what she supposed he was going to do. Maybe he was going for her waist?

The noise of Sherlock's text alert - Irene's text alert - made her freeze in her tracks before taking a step backwards away from him and towards the sofa. She pushed away the hurt she felt and completely missed the way his face conveyed his own hurt at her moving away. "Sounds like you've got a message."

Please do leave me your thoughts.

FB