Sherlock heaved a large box up the stairs to his apartment. Mrs. Hudson followed the commotion.

"What could he possibly give eleven of?" Mrs. Hudson grumbled.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Sherlock said, opening the box he had set on the couch. Sherlock stifled a snicker as he pulled out the first of the eleven. It was a book.

"What is it?" Mrs. Hudson.

"The Encyclopedia of Murder and Mystery," he looked back into the box. "An eleven volume set." Sherlock removed all of the encyclopedias from the box and laid them out on the table behind him.

"Read that note on the bottom of the box for me, would you Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock requested. Mrs. Hudson discovered the note and read it for him.

"You probably already know all this,

But honestly, this is not a diss.

Enjoy some reading to keep you afloat,

Although they might be books you wrote."

Sherlock smiled at Mrs. Hudson when she finished. Mrs. Hudson looked up at Sherlock.

"Well, have you figured it out yet?" she asked the detective.

"Who it is?" Sherlock sat in his chair with the first volume of the encyclopedias. "I am almost certain."

"Well, then? Spit it out!" Mrs. Hudson said impatiently.

"This person has to be close to me, they had to know what I needed or would see as a joke. It couldn't be a fan; fans wouldn't be so considerate or have the mind capacity to plan the whole thing out.

"The note was in a male's handwriting, but that is almost insignificant, considering one could easily get someone else to write it out for them. It can't be Lestrade, he was much too clueless when he delivered the cases last week."

Sherlock paused, collecting his own thoughts. "Most of the gifts are fairly open ended, anyone could have given them with a fair knowledge of my background. But with the cases and corpses…for those you would need a more intimate knowledge of Scotland Yard. You'd have to have been there often and be capable of pulling some strings. There are only two people in Scotland Yard who know and like me well enough to do all this. Lestrade, who we've already ruled out, and…"

"Yes?" Mrs. Hudson pushed.

Sherlock cracked open the first encyclopedia. "Molly Hooper."


Now before those of you who were begging for it to be John stab me in the chest, please don't... Just hear it out for tomorrow :D

Wow it's Christmas Eve already. Seems weird to me.

Hope you all enjoy lovely times with friends/family over the next few days :3 I'll see you back here tomorrow for the finale!