Watson stared moodily into the fire, remembering Mary's words from a Christmas many years ago. Nobody should be alone on Christmas, she had said, with her soft, sweet smile. Not even Mr Holmes. That year, and every year following, Mary had insisted that Holmes come to join them for dinner on Christmas Day. Christmasses with Holmes and Mary were always amusing, and a time Watson had looked forward to every year.

When Holmes had died at Reichenbach, Christmas was very different. He and Mary celebrated the day together, but attended the Scotland Yard Christmas Party on Christmas Eve.

Then Mary had died, and Watson's world had been destroyed again. Now, he was spending his Christmas alone, the one thing Mary had hated for anyone to do.

Watson's musings were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. "Come in!" He called.

Lestrade looked hesitantly around the door frame. "Good evening, Doctor, and a Merry Christmas."

"Is it?" Watson said in a low biting tone. He continued more loudly. "Merry Christmas to you too, Lestrade. Please, take a seat."

"No thank you, Doctor." Lestrade gripped his hat, nervously twisting it between his hands. "I just came to extend an invitation to spend Christmas with my family."

"I really couldn't impose, Lestrade," Watson said, touched by the offer.

"It's no imposition at all, Doctor," Lestrade replied firmly. "I insist."

Watson looked directly at him. "Thank you."

As Lestrade called a cab, Watson thought, 'Merry Christmas, Mary. Now neither of us are alone.'