"Couldn't we simply have an artificial tree, John? The amount of time you spend grousing about the vacuuming is already considerable. With falling needles, that will increase your vacuuming by twenty minutes," Sherlock complained from the passenger seat. John rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored his partner as they drove away from London towards a tree lot Sarah had recommended.
"I cannot believe you made Mycroft loan us a car so you can go buy a conifer," Sherlock commented again a few minutes later. John smirked, but reached his left hand over the console to take Sherlock's.
"It's not just a 'conifer', Sherlock. It's a Christmas tree! Come on, you can't honestly say you don't like Christmas trees," John laughed, giving Sherlock's hand a squeeze. Sherlock's mouth twitched up in smile.
"I've never really seen much of a point in Christmas really," Sherlock admitted, "but I think I'm starting to."
John smiled, and let the last few minutes of the drive pass in silence. They pulled up to the tree lot and parked carefully, minding the ice. "Come along, Sherlock, it's not as cold as you think," John encouraged, half-dragging the detective through the snow to the lot.
"I don't understand this, John, what on earth do we even do?" Sherlock said, finally picking up the pace and walking alongside John.
"You pick one, Sherlock, you know, one you like!" John laughed, leading Sherlock down a path in-between the trees. "What about this one?" John asked, stopping in front of one he knew was too small, just to annoy Sherlock.
Sherlock gave him a long-suffering look. "John, that tree is much too small," he proclaimed. John smiled to himself. Mission accomplished. Sherlock started to fall into the swing of things, tugging John ahead like an excited child when he spotted a tree he liked, and then sprinting off again when he found a better one. Suddenly the detective stopped dead in front of him.
"This one," Sherlock said with a nod, his eyes lighting up as they took in the tree. "Definitely this one." John slid an arm around Sherlock's shoulders and took a solid look at the tree. It did seem rather ideal. John caught sight of the lot owner and waved him over with his free hand. Sherlock looked on in interest as they cut the tree down and hauled it back to the car.
"You know," John said, tying the tree tight to the roof of Mycroft's car, "you could help with this."
"Nonsense, you've clearly got it handled," Sherlock said, turning the heat on in the car while John double-checked the knots. John rolled his eyes but climbed in and started the drive home. Sherlock dozed quietly in the passenger seat, looking absolutely stunning as usual, but John refused to allow it to distract him. They pulled up in front of Baker Street and John leaned over to shake Sherlock awake.
"Sherlock, we're home. Wake up and help me move the tree, you great git," John said, laughing as Sherlock groaned and rolled away before finally coming to.
"I'm not helping with that," Sherlock said, getting out of the car and looking from John to the tree and then back again.
"Oh, yes you are," John said, snagging the detective around the waist and pulling him to back to the car. "I think we can manage it between us, don't you?"
"No, I don't think we can. Thankfully that's Lestrade pulling up. I'll have him help before he gives us the case," Sherlock commented, gesturing to the car that had just parked across the way from them. John waved Greg over and exchanged pleasantries while Sherlock stood apart trying to undo the knots in the rope.
"John! They won't come undone," Sherlock interrupted. John gave Greg a small smile.
"Give us a hand?" he asked. Greg nodded, thankfully, because Lord knows Sherlock wasn't going to be much use. The man couldn't even untie the knots himself. Maybe he should just open the door for them.
In the end, Mrs. Hudson had to open the doors while all three men pushed and pulled the tree up the stairs and into the main room of the flat. Greg passed the case file off to Sherlock and quickly left them alone while Mrs. Hudson merely smiled and mentioned she was going out for the evening.
John kissed Sherlock lightly on the cheek. "Admit it, you like the tree," John teased. Sherlock pouted, but relented finally as John jabbed him lightly in the ribs.
"All right, all right, I like the damn tree," Sherlock said, pushing John's hands away as John moved to poke him again.
"Knew it," John said confidently.
"Well, you're obviously the clever one here," Sherlock conceded sarcastically.
"Oh shut up," John replied, pulling playfully on one end of Sherlock's scarf.
"Never."