A/N: I'm not even going to try and make an excuse. Sorry for the wait, hopefully this makes up for it. I'm also going to stop with the disclaimers cause I'm running out of ideas.
Sherlock looked at the two presents he had bought for Mycroft. Things had changed a lot in four years, the last Christmas Mycroft had spent with Sherlock and Mummy. Then he had bought Mycroft a new psychology textbook and a cake he would actually like- red velvet. Now he got a tie and a fruitcake. Sherlock debated adding a card so Mycroft wouldn't feel too bad, and decided a Hallmark card would be fine, though they didn't have "Happy Christmas to the Junior British Government" in their selection. It would be generic then.
Now he looked at the already wrapped present for Mother. It was something he knew she liked. He was proud of his ability to deduce it, what she wanted. He wanted so much to take it out and look at it. It had cost him around 275 pounds, but his mother's expression would be worth it. He looked up as a doorbell rang, and hurried to the living room where he put the presents on the shelf above the fireplace. Emma was already answering the door, which of course was Mycroft. He carried two presents in his left hand, his right leaning on an umbrella for some reason. Emma gave him a hug and let him in.
Even though it wasn't technically Christmas yet (that was tomorrow), everyone felt the need to say Merry Christmas. After a minute, they were all standing around awkwardly. Emma found her brain again and showed Mycroft the couch, where he would sleep for the night. If he actually did sleep. Then she pulled out brandy glasses and the liquid for which they were named, and poured two, one for herself and one for Mycroft. Sherlock had water, because while technically he could have alcohol, it made his head hurt and his brain malfunction.
The two adults sat around talking for an hour, and apparently did not notice Sherlock curled up in the chair against the wall. During that hour, he learned that Mycroft's girlfriend had broken up with him via a mutual acquaintance, and that Mycroft had gone and eaten half of an apple pie afterwards. The crumbs still sat on his collar, and a smidge of whipped cream was on his tie. Next he deduced that he was technically the British government. He had met the Queen as well (a small smile brushed his face whenever they talked about politics). An assistant named Martha had given him her phone number, though if she worked for Mycroft she should have been informed that he thought caring was not an advantage. Small ink smudges that resembled 'Mrta' and a few numbers were on his left thumb. After this Sherlock got bored and left to his room, deciding to get up early next morning for a card for Mycroft.
At precisely seven fifteen, Sherlock swung his feet out of bed and got dressed in a dress shirt and jeans, then left a note for his mother, should she wake up before he returned. It said nothing other than the fact that he had forgotten something and that he would be back in 17 minutes.
Sherlock left the flat and headed towards the corner store two blocks away. They sold cards, candy, drinks, and even had a small liquor section. He made a beeline for the card aisle and looked for a suitable one. Eventually he found one. It was just a plain card that said Merry Christmas, but it had a fat dog eating the remainders of a cake on the front, and Sherlock loved to tease his brother. It was one of the only highlights in his thirteen year old life.
As he waited in line to pay, because he obviously wasn't the only one who had forgotten a present, he looked at the other customers. The one in front of him was having an affair with his desk partner- interestingly enough, also his wife's crush. He was buying a gift card to a fancy restaurant for his partner. The person two away from Sherlock looked boring, so he was passed over. Next was a couple. The girl was pregnant, despite the fact she was around fifteen, and the guy was clueless. He was also twenty-three. That would make for an interesting conversation later. The girl of the couple looked back towards the one Sherlock had skipped over. Doubly interesting conversation later. The baby was the boring man's. Finally, the woman paying was getting a divorce, though her husband didn't know yet, and her child- not a child, a fourteen year old- was planning on telling her about his homosexuality in the parking lot. The things one can learn if they pay attention.
As he got home, Sherlock slammed the door, waking up Mycroft who had been mumbling in his sleep. Sherlock started to snicker, but stopped when his mother looked- no, glared- at him from the kitchen. "You said 17 minutes in your note. Do you know how long it's been? Twenty-three minutes." She paused and sighed. "I'm sorry, it's just stressful to have an absent son and a mumbling one." Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged a shocked look as she went back to cooking breakfast. Mummy never apologized to anyone.
Later, after breakfast (an explosion of yellow eggs and black pepper), they went to go get presents. Mycroft, since he didn't have to go very far, was the first back, then Sherlock, then Mummy. They went in that order. Mycroft gave Mummy some tea from India and Sherlock a small pocket microscope. They thanked him, then it was Sherlock's turn. He gave Mycroft the tie, fruit cake, and card, then turned to his mother and handed over the gift. As she peeled off the wrapping paper (she never did like ripping it), a brown velvet box was revealed. She opened it partially, and a golden chain fell out. Soon it was open all the way, and she gasped. Mycroft's face grew a look of curiosity as she pulled out the object and set the box aside. It was a golden pocket watch, with the Holmes coat of arms on the front of it. It was opened, and inside was a perfectly operating clock, with date and time, and a clear watch face.
Mummy and Mycroft both looked at Sherlock, then said thank you. Then it was Mummy's turn. She handed Sherlock a flat present which was obviously a sheet of paper and Mycroft a box. Inside Mycroft's box was a tie and a dress vest. Sherlock opened his and it was a picture, of a beautiful violin and bow. He smiled and looked up. "Thank you," he whispered. There were no other words.
After that, Christmas was over and Mycroft left. Soon it was just Sherlock and Mummy. She gave him the violin, and he spent the rest of break admiring it, and playing it.
A/N: Since I have been gone so long, I wrote this extra long chapter for you guys. Please review, it makes my day.