Living in London had turned into as much of a dream come true as Laura Phillips had hoped it would be. You loved it here. And as much as she loved London, she equally loved traveling all over the country and visiting the villages and non-touristy bits as well. The whole country was beautiful, and she adored living there. But now, as autumn was coming to an end, she realized that she was feeling a twinge of sadness. She'd been in London less than a year but by virtue of her job for Scotland Yard, she'd made friends—first Inspector Lestrade—Greg—then also by association, the eccentric and highly intelligent Holmes brothers, then had come John Watson, Molly Hooper, and Mrs. Hudson. Christmas was coming, and she looked forward to celebrating the holiday with her new friends at Sherlock's annual Christmas party, but the holiday season was different this year. She sighed as she walked down the street past store fronts, not having ever thought that missing this particular holiday would have such a significant impact on her.
"You're certain this is the way it should look?" Mycroft grumbled as he looked over the table.
"Yes, Mycroft, I'm certain. Now hurry it up, the tracker I put on her says she's on her way home." Sherlock said.
"Have either of you considered just how illegal it is for you to put a tracker on her without her knowing?" Greg Lestrade spoke up.
"Oh, don't act like you weren't in on this from the beginning, Detective!" Molly Hooper spoke up as she adjusted the centerpiece.
Just then, Mrs. Hudson came with a platter covered in a huge turkey. "Here we are! Just in time, too, I think!"
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, that looks amazing!" John said as he bounced Rosie on his hip.
"Thank you, my dear. I hope it gives her a bit of cheer. She's looked so down lately."
"I'm sure she's going to love it, Mrs. Hudson," Molly said as she patted the older woman on the back.
Just then Sherlock's phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket and hopped up and down. "She's here! She's coming up the steps now, everyone hide!"
"This isn't a birthday party, Sherlock!" Mycroft grumbled.
"No, but it is a surprise, so put a sock in it, brother," Sherlock whispered.
Soon they heard the lock on the front door clicking over and the door knob turning. A few moments later, she turned the corner from the entry hall and came in view of the open area that made the main living, dining, and kitchen area of her home.
"Happy Thanksgiving!" everyone yelled out together.
Laura Phillips gasped, almost dropping the bags in her hands. She let out a squeak and looked over the spread of food across the table. "I—wha—what is all this?"
"A Thanksgiving feast… we hope. Is it right?" Molly Hooper was the first to speak up.
"Of course it's right," Sherlock spoke first. "I told you it was right. I did all the research."
"It—it's amazing. But—why? Why would you all do this? You—you don't celebrate Thanksgiving here."
"We all have things to be thankful for, Laura. And this is your first year away from America. We thought you might be needing a taste of home. And—we all wanted to tell you how thankful we are—for you." John Watson answered her questions in the kindest way possible—as John usually did with such things.
Tears glazed her eyes as she looked at all her new closest friends. "I—this is so much. I—thank you— thank you all so much."
"It was my idea," Sherlock stated dryly before Mrs. Hudson shoved him from the side.
Laura chuckled. "Thank you Sherlock," she said as she approached and pulled the man into a hug. "Thank you everyone."
"Well, shall we all sit and enjoy this feast?" Mycroft said, hoping to keep things moving along.
After everyone had settled in and Rosie had been strapped into her booster seat at the table, Mycroft stood back up and tapped his fork against his wine glass. "As John so eloquently put it, we are here to celebrate Thanksgiving. Though in the United States of America it's origins may have begun with a distasteful and ridiculous desire to leave our great nation, in more recent years of history it as become simply a time to gather round with friends and family and remember the things we can be thankful for. This year, we have each come here to this table because we all have something we are all equally thankful for. That is, ten months ago an American stepped off a plane, bravely deciding to make the United Kingdom her home. Deciding to use her incredible technological prowess for good and serve in Scotland Yard. And somewhat foolishly choosing to call each of us 'friend.'" Everyone around the table chuckled. Laura watched in awe. "We are here together because while we have many many things to be thankful for, we find that we are thankful for you, Laura—and your friendship. Something that some of us are still growing accustomed to and comfortable with," he said, smiling at her fondly and knowingly. "And we want you to feel welcome and at home in our country for a very very long time. Happy Thanksgiving Laura, and Happy Thanksgiving everyone."
"Here, here," John said with a smile and everyone echoed the sentiment as they clanked glasses with each other.
Laura then stood, a bit misty eyed and still quite in awe at everything. "Wow, um—I'm not sure how to follow that up, but I feel I should since I've been made the guest of honor in my own house. As you all know, coming to England was a bit of an escape, but also a dream come true. I had no idea when I ran from the tragedy in my life, wildly following this crazy dream of mine, that I'd find such incredibly friendship here—such an incredible family to be a part of. I had never imagined that missing Thanksgiving would create such a sadness in my life, and I'm a bit embarrassed that perhaps it showed—"
"It's difficult to hide anything from the Holmes brothers, deary," Mrs. Hudson said with a smile.
Laura chuckled quietly. "Yes, I suppose so. Well, all that to say—thank you. Thank you all for welcoming me in, despite my American eccentricities and oddities. For accepting my strange way of speaking and eating and behaving sometimes. Thank you for opening yourself up to my friendship, when perhaps it seemed like the last thing you wanted or needed," she said, particularly glancing at Mycroft. "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone."