"Neatly done, wrapping it up in time for Christmas," Lestrade said, giving Sherlock a nod as he finished analysing a case. Sherlock brushed off the compliment lightly.
"There was no reason to wait around, besides, John said we have plans," the detective said with a smile in the doctor's direction. John glanced up from his conversation with Donovan to return the smile.
Lestrade nodded again, approvingly and clapped a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "He's good for you, you know," he began gruffly. Sherlock remained silent; clearly Lestrade had more to say. "Even –ahem- even Mycroft thinks so," he finished, lowering his voice as he brought up the elder Holmes. Sherlock smirked.
"Pillow talk with my brother, Lestrade?" he began. Suddenly John appeared at his elbow, somehow sensing that Sherlock was about to find a line and cross it.
"Sherlock, remember, plans tonight," John said, taking his partner's arm firmly. Lestrade gave John a grateful look and then seemed to recall something.
"Just a second," he said, ducking under his desk and coming back up with a bottle of champagne. "Molly sent this over to give to you, she thought I'd see you before she did. Wanted me to tell you happy Christmas."
John smiled and said thank you before urging Sherlock out the door and into a cab. Sherlock turned. "Do we actually have plans tonight?" he asked. John hadn't glanced at his watch once; when they had plans he'd check it every few minutes to ensure Sherlock didn't make them late. John shook his head.
"We've got plans to not have plans," he replied. Sherlock considered asking for elaboration, but deemed it unimportant. John was pleased at the idea, and that was enough to keep Sherlock from questioning things until they were home.
They popped in on Mrs. Hudson for a few moments on their way in, wishing her a happy Christmas as she was leaving the next morning to spend Christmas day with her sister. She insisted they take a plate of biscuits up with them, "to leave out for Saint Nick, of course," she'd said with a wink. Sherlock had nearly fallen for that one, opening his mouth to argue the improbability of Santa before catching the twinkle in John's eye that usually meant someone was having him on. Instead, he thanked her for the treats and headed up to the flat with John in tow.
"Put on some music, would you?" John asked, stepping immediately into the kitchen with the champagne and biscuits. Sherlock pulled a face but went over to the cheap CD player he'd bought and hit play. The score of the Nutcracker began where they'd left off earlier, the music familiar as it washed over the flat. Sherlock sank comfortably onto the couch, and John joined him a moment later with a glass of champagne and a biscuit for each of them.
"Mmm," Sherlock hummed as he sipped the drink. "These are our not-plans for the evening then?"
John gave him a playfully disapproving look. "There are no plans, that's the point," John said, drinking from his own glass. Sherlock smiled softly at his partner, admiring how nice he looked in the gentle light of the flat. The new clothes suited him much better than his old ones had; there was one experiment that ended with a better result than anticipated. Although he still had several unanswered questions about moths.
Almost absentmindedly Sherlock bent and kissed John, simply because he could. John set his glass aside, took Sherlock's and did the same, before snuggling closer to Sherlock and kissing him back.
Sherlock snaked his arms around John, tugging the doctor closer until there wasn't any space between them. He could feel John's smile under his own lips, and the answering grin he gave. Very gently he scattered kisses over John's face, mapping out the man's features with the gentle brush of his lips. Time paused and stretched, making the evening last at the same time forever and not nearly long enough. John pulled back.
"We've got to go to sleep soon, if we expect presents in the morning," John teased.
"You just want to get me in bed," Sherlock shot back with a grin, nipping playfully at John's earlobe. The doctor laughed lightly.
"I don't see why they both can't be true," he replied, standing up and drawing the detective after him. Sherlock gave a nearly predatory grin. Both it was then.