Chapter 14: All I Want for Christmas is You
A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry this took so long, it took ages to type this all out! This chapter is dedicated to Succi, who was the first reviewer to correctly guess the identity of the kidnapper in the last chapter! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and feel free to leave any suggestions or comments for the story. I love you all and hope you enjoy the holiday break!
I rose up on my toes, trying to keep my balance, as I struggled to add the final piece to the time consuming and festive puzzle I was working on.
"There we go." I exclaimed triumphantly, standing back to admire the fruits of my labor. I put my hands on my hips, looking up in satisfaction at my accomplished goal.
Iridescent blue lights twinkled brightly against the pure white tree, reflecting off the room in an unearthly glow, stealing my breath for a moment at the sheer beauty of it.
"It's brilliant." An astonished voice gasped behind me. I smiled at the compliment, not having to turn around to know who had given it.
"Thank you, John. I'm glad it pleases you." I beamed, unable to take my eyes off of the sapling. I heard the jingling of bells, before John came into my view.
"It very much pleases me. God, it's been ages since we had a proper tree in this apartment. In fact, I can't remember any time when we've celebrated this holiday, let alone a holiday." John said, shooting an accusing glare at the mute detective. I chuckled at John's not so subtle condemnatory statement and at his obvious holiday spirit.
He wore a bright red and green Christmas sweater, while on his head, a Santa hat covered his hair, the fluffy ball of it, dangling in front of his face, partially covering his left eye.
"I take it, you enjoy the season of Christmas?" I smirked, lifting the obstructing object, to flick it to its proper place.
"Just a bit." John shrugged, his hands full of presents. I raised an amused eyebrow at his copious amount of gifts, and deduced that most of them, if not all, were for his wife, who had been stationed in Peru for months on a dire medical mission.
"And are none of these for me?" I teased, leaning on the fireplace, which had yet to be lit. John knelt to stick the wrapped packages under the bulbous tree, his hat jingling a merry tune.
"Don't be silly. Of course there's one for you." John laughed, standing up and brushing his pants. He glanced over at Sherlock, before leaning in to whisper in my ear.
"Might even be one for that git over there," he said jokingly. I shook my head at John's attempt to get a reaction from the pouting man and rolled my eyes.
"Be nice." I hissed, lightly hitting John on the chest, as I made my way to the kitchen. The tantalizing aroma of ginger bread met my nostrils, alerting me that the cookies were done baking. A ding sounded then, confirming my inward thought, and with a flourish, I scooped the delicacies from their prison and placed them on a plate to cool. The smell of Christmas perfumed the air now, filling the tiny flat with a warm jubilant feeling.
"Is that gingerbread I smell?" John asked, rounding the corner. I nodded giddily, his high spirits being infectious.
"Yup." I answered, popping the p sound, at the end of the word. John reached for a cookie, but I quickly smacked his hand away and wagged my finger at him.
"Tsk tsk, John Watson. You can't have any until the guests have arrived." I scolded, standing in front of the baked goods.
"And why is that?" John demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. I smiled at his attempt to look threatening, and only patted him on the head.
"Because, little hobbit, you'll eat them all, before anyone else gets the chance to try one." I chuckled, seeing the look of displeasure on his features.
"I told you not to call me that." John grumbled, huffing in annoyance.
"Well you shouldn't be so short then." I teased, smirking at my height advantage due to the heels I was wearing.
"You're one to talk." John retorted, reaching over me to snag a cookie.
"Why you little-"I began, when there was a knock at the door.
The stolen cookie forgotten, I rushed to the door, excitement bubbling within me. They're finally here. I thought with joy, suppressing the urge to squeal. This would be the first time having friends and family at the flat together, other than for a case. To say I was enthusiastic was an understatement. I quickly unlocked the door and swung it open, my grin widening at the sight of all our guests crammed into the hallway. We're going to need a bigger flat. I mused, as I led them inside.
The apartment filled up quickly, idle chatter soon consuming the silence the flat held before. Soon, the noise became too much for Sherlock, who made his displeasure evident, by leaving the room in a huff, loudly slamming his bedroom door behind him. I pursed my lips at the dramatic display, but put on a smile to try and direct the company's attention elsewhere.
"Tea anyone?" I asked brightly, clapping my hands together loudly.
Once everyone had a cuppa, conversations started up again, various topics floating through my ear, as I passed by trying to make sure everyone was having a good time. And it seemed like everyone was enjoying themselves. Well, almost everyone.
I glanced at the closed bedroom door, concern itching at the back of my mind. I bit my lip in worry, debating on whether or not I should check on the troubled man.
"Are you alright dearie?" Mrs. Hudson wondered sweetly, gently placing a hand on my arm. I smiled warmly at the woman who I thought as a mother, before reassuring her everything was fine.
"I know Sherlock can be difficult at times, but he's a good man, whether he realizes or not." Mrs. Hudson said, giving my arm a squeeze.
"Just... give him time. He'll come around, and then realize what a wonderful thing he's got." She assured me with a nod. "Then you can really show him what he's been missing." She continued, winking at the end of her statement. I blushed slightly, but thanked the elderly woman, before moving to pour Molly and Greg more tea.
"It's lovely what you've done with the place." Molly complimented, gazing at the decorated room.
"Yes, lovely. I can't imagine how you convinced a certain someone to go along with it though." Greg said, shaking his head, while taking a sip of the hot beverage in his hand.
"Thank you guys. I'm quite proud of how it all turned out. And you wouldn't believe how much of a fight Sherlock put up. He was adamant on not having this party. But I won in the end. I find that happening more than usual lately." I explained a bit triumphantly.
"You don't hear me complaining." Greg chimed, taking a bite out of a gingerbread cookie.
"Now only if I can do the same for all holid-" I was cut off abruptly, by the shrill sound of a violin.
The noise pierced the air, causing the room to go silent almost instantly.
"Excuse me for a moment." I whispered, making my way to Sherlock's door. I quickly opened the door and shut it behind me quietly, though I wanted to do the opposite.
"One night Sherlock. That's all I'm asking for. For just one night, I would like to have a normal evening with loved ones. Is that so much to ask of you?" I seethed, gritting my teeth in barely contained rage. Sherlock paused in his playing and turned toward me, with an expression I'd seen before. It was a look of boredom.
"No one is stopping you from leaving. If you had wanted normal, you shouldn't have moved in with me." He replied coolly.
"If I recall correctly, I didn't move in with you, you forced me to. Remember?" I hissed, crossing my arms over my chest. Sherlock regarded me for a moment before speaking once more.
"Clenched fists, elevated breathing and increased blood pressure. I'm getting the impression that you are angry with me." Sherlock said sarcastically, his voice mocking.
"You're damn right I'm angry with you. How can you just treat the people you love like that? Like they aren't worth your time?!" I exclaimed, raising my voice.
"Love is a chemical defect, and an obstacle from what really matters." Sherlock droned, rolling his eyes like a child who didn't want to listen.
"And what's that, O knowledgable one?!" I yelled, not wanting to hear his answer, but already knowing the words he was going to cut me with.
Sherlock slammed his violin down and spun around, startling me into silence.
"The work. It always has been my work, and it always will be. Why can't you understand that?" Sherlock growled, only inches from my face. I swallowed in shock and in pain, the common phrase reopening wounds I'd repeatedly tried to close up.
Sherlock looked at me for a moment, before scowling and turning away. He snatched his coat off the bed, and proceeded to slip it on.
"Where are you going?" I choked out.
"I have something important that needs to be taken care of." He answered curtly, yanking open the door. It wasn't long before I heard the sound of the front door slamming shut. Always subtle. I thought forlornly, shaking my head.
"No time to worry about him at the moment. I have a party to conduct." I said, composing my features. I took a deep measured breath, and straightened my dress, before walking back out to spend time with my family.
It was around twelve am when the all the guests started to filter out, most of them too drunk or tired to stay any longer. Mary was the only exception, since I had insisted she spend the night at the flat with John, who had missed her terribly. Needless to say, neither of them had any objections to this statement.
As the last guest exited the flat, I shut the door behind them, slumping slightly against the wood frame. I blew a strand of hair out of my face, fatigue washing over me.
"Need any help cleaning up?" John asked, sensing my weariness.
"No. You and Mary go on to bed. I'll take care of the mess." I assured him, waving off his offer.
"Are you sure?" He prodded, hesitation in his voice.
"Yes, yes. I'll be up for a while anyway. You and Mary have some catching up to do anyway." I winked; laughing at John's reddening face.
"Right then. Goodnight. And don't worry about Sherlock. He never holds a grudge for long." John smiled, patting me on the shoulder. I smiled back, before bidding him goodnight.
I then started to clean the messy apartment up, throwing all unrecyclable items into a garbage bag, until the place was as spotless as it had been before. I yawned, stretching my arms over my head and was on my way to the couch, when the door opened, a head full of curls peeking inside. I bit my tongue, not knowing how to respond.
He stepped into the flat slowly, never breaking contact, as if unsure of how stable I was. I watched his movements, suspicious of his quick return.
"Finish that 'something important'?" I asked accusingly, glaring up at him. Sherlock merely shut the door behind him, and approached me hesitantly, looking pleadingly at me. Then after what seemed like an hour, he brought his hands from behind his back, and produced a cream box, which was slightly ripped at the edges. I stared at the object, then back at Sherlock, a question on the tip of my tongue.
As if sensing my query, he set the box down and took off the lid, revealing inside a tiny mewling kitten.
I gaped at the animal, stunned that it was actually inside the apartment. Sherlock wasn't particularly fond of animals, especially cats.
I bent down and picked up the small creature, hugging it against my chest fondly. Big blue eyes looked up at me, instantly capturing my heart.
"Sherlock, where did you find it?" I blurted the first question that came to my mind.
"A local shelter. It was going to be put down if it didn't have a home by the end of the week. Thought you might enjoy a company that wouldn't speak." Sherlock declared, the edges of his mouth curling up. I opened my mouth to thank him, when he leaned down to deliver a swift peck to the cheek.
"Merry Christmas." He whispered deeply, his cool breath tickling my skin. I stood speechless for a minute, before I remembered how to breathe. I threw one arm around the detective's neck, careful not to squish the bundle in my arms.
I pressed my lips to his, only pulling back when I needed air. I gazed at him in adoration, playing with a stray curl in front of his face.
"And Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Holmes." I breathed, deciding that this was the best Christmas I'd ever had.