CHAPTER SIX

John and Sherlock were awoken at 7AM the next morning by the ringing of a cell phone. The bed shifted as Sherlock practically jumped out, like a child on Christmas morning… which it was. He grabbed his phone only to complain when he discovered it wasn't his mobile that had woken them.

"John, your phone is ringing."

Watson stretched and reached for the mobile his sister had given him. Looking at the screen he groaned but answered it all the same. "Morning Harry. – Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too…." He glanced over to Sherlock. "… I already told you Harry I'm on a case with Sherlock. - No, I can't skip it to going out with you. - How many have you had? - I can hear it in your voice. - It's 7AM, I don't want to argue. - I'm hanging up Harry. - Goodbye Harry." He hit the button and ended the called feeling both angry at his sister who had obviously been out all night drink, and at himself for not care anymore. There was only so much a man could take after all. He suddenly felt Sherlock's eyes on him. "She says she's giving up for New Year."

"I find that highly unlikely John."

Watson closed his eyes and took a breath. He didn't need his friend stating the obvious. "Yeah….me to."

John heard a rustling of clothing and opened his eyes to see Sherlock stripping out of his night wear. "Sherlock! – Can't you get changed in the bathroom."

Holmes turned a mystified look on his colleague. "John, you were in the army and you're a doctor, I'm sure you've been a naked man before."

"Yeah, well, not…" unable to argue with that deduction John waved a nonchalant hand and flipped over in the bed, away from the view of Sherlock's naked form.

"Sometimes John you baffle me."

"Why?" John asked from under the covers.

"Because for an educated man with a strong moral compass, you can be rather narrow minded and childish."

John shot up in the bed, ignoring Sherlock's half-dressed state. "Pardon me?"

"Well first there was last night's ridiculous situation with the sleeping arrangements, fussing with the furniture…." He gestured to the chairs that still remained pushed together. "…because he didn't wish to share a bed with me, like you thought I would what, ravish you in your sleep?" he scoffed. "Now this morning you turn over and bury your head beneath the covers like some shy virgin on her wedding night, I expected better of you John Watson, I really did."

"Listen Sherlock, just because I'm a doctor does not mean I wish to watch you strut around the room bollock naked. It's called dignity, obviously a word that was wiped from your hard drive!" John snapped.

"See childish." Sherlock crossed his arms over his bare chest like he'd just single-handedly won the gulf war.

"I'm not being childish Sherlock! – Guys, normal guys, do not go around in their birthday suits in front of other guys." John was growing increasingly agitated with this conversation. The way Sherlock made it sound; John was some ignorant homophobe who was scare of being jumped in his sleep. "…and as for the sleeping arrangements, I'm sorry if I was uncomfortable with the thought of sharing a bed with another man, it's not my area." He said with a slight sneer at Sherlock.

"Obviously John… though let me set your mind at ease, I am not interested in any kind of physical relationship and if I were, it would not be with you!"

John threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. "And what the fucks wrong with me?" what the hell did you say that for?

"Other than your clear homophobic issues…"

"How the hell am I homophobic Sherlock, my sisters' gay for fuck sake…. And I live with you don't I…."

Knock, knock, knock.

"What!" the two men shouted without thinking.

The door opened slightly and a small white head of hair popped around it. For a few moments the men had forgotten where they were and expected it to be Mrs. Hudson. When they saw Mary they both fell silent.

"Sorry to interrupt…" she flushed. "… I just wanted to inform you that we're going down stairs to open presents." Giving them an apologetic smile she closed the door on what she clearly saw as a lovers tiff.

John and Sherlock looked at each other before silently calling a truce and apologizing.

~ SHERLOCK ~

Sherlock sat on the hard uncomfortable couch with John. Though they had called a truce, they were still in the aftermath of there argument that morning.

Sherlock wasn't aware why they'd even been fighting, he'd merely pointed out the hypocritical nature of his flat-mate. Mainly because he'd truly been surprised by the man's attitude.

John had persuaded him to go through with the charade in the first place. He would much rather have stayed at home, shooting holes in Mrs. Hudson's walls. As it was he was stuck miles from London, surrounded by his family and not to mention his ex, feeling like a caged animal with no sign of a case.

His gaze shifted across the room to Jacob, lounging in one of the chairs with that easy smile that had won Sherlock over the moment they'd met.

Jacob Harvelle was just like a lot of the guys he'd know at university, guys like Sebastian. Arrogant and sure of themselves. Sherlock had never quiet been able to deduce why he'd ever begun a relationship with the man. They weren't exactly compatible. The man didn't understand or respect what Sherlock did. The only true bases for their so-called relationship had been sexual attraction. - Which had almost destroyed Sherlock.

Jacob caught Sherlock's gaze and held it. That long remembered flirtatious desire filled those green eyes, sending a shiver down Sherlock's spin. That look had the ability to turn Sherlock Holmes from genius consulting detective to averaged bumbling mess in a breath. It had been that look that had taken him off his chosen path and into the unsavoury world of drug use. After all, what was a fix between lovers.

Jacob had never considered himself an addict and frankly, nor did anyone else, no one but Mycroft. His big brother had been fundamental in getting him clean and back on track and expected Sherlock's eternal gratitude for it.

Of course Sherlock never saw it that way. He hadn't been an addict either. It had been merely an occasional recreational pastime. The fact that it had led to a close gave with Scotland Yard meant nothing. Hell, without said close shave Sherlock would never have been able to help Lestrade on that kidnap case.

Sherlock fidgeted with his phone again. Why couldn't the man call. Had all of London's criminals decide to have an uncharacteristic day off. His foot began to tap at the thick red carpet until John's hand slammed down on his knee with a whispered command to "Stop."

Sherlock sent him a look of annoyance and challenge but stopped none the less. When he turned his head away from John he noted the sly looks coming from his family. - Well, most of his family. Mycroft was sat in a large chair away from the gathering, reading a book and his father sat there just staring at the tree, deep in thought.

"Here you go Sherlock." Anna announced holding out a wrapped gift to her step brother.

Holmes grumbled as he took it. "I didn't…"

"Don't worry Sherlock, I made sure Carter collected the gifts with your luggage. I know how forgetful you two can be." Mycroft announced from across the room. "All the gifts are under the tree."

Sherlock shot his brother a look that was far from thankful. If rather said 'what are you up to?'

Sherlock begrudgingly opened the gift and groaned. "And what am I meant to do it with this?" he asked as he pulled the terribly ugly jumper away from the box.

"Wear it." Anna smirked. "As much as those expensive shirts look good on you, you must be blood freezing this time of year."

"I do not feel the cold Anna, as you are well aware. Which leads me to assume that this monstrosity is some kind of joke."

Sherlock yelped as an elbow connected with his ribs, causing him to shoot a dangerous look at John, who met it with one of his own. A silent 'be nice' in its depths.

Anna laughed. "Of course it's a joke silly. - Have I ever, have any of us ever been able to give you a present you liked." she added, handing her baby one of the toys they'd unwrapped.

"I did." Jacob murmured just load enough to gain Sherlock, John and miraculously Mycroft's attention. His lips twitching and a gleam in his eyes.

Sherlock swallowed and swore he imagined John shifting just a tad closer to him.

~ SHERLOCK ~

More presents were opened, more ugly jumpers and useless things exchanged. Sherlock may never understand the point of buying people gifts that were going to be put in a cupboard and never used.

After almost two hours of pointless family interaction, Mary turned to the Sherlock and John. "Didn't you boys buy any gifts for each other?"

John spoke up seeing Sherlock's uneasy at his step-mothers question. "We left them at home."

"Oh yeah." Anna wiggled her brows. "Like that are they?"

"Anna!" Mary blushed, turning away clearly believing Anna had the right end of the stick.

John blushed scarlet at the idea that he and Sherlock had brought each other gifts that were better given in private. The truth was John hadn't brought Sherlock anything quite as excite. Just a scarf, which the man would probably never wear. He doubted Holmes had brought him anything.

The blush receded the moment he saw the irritated and envious look on Jacobs face. John bit the inside of his lip to stop from laughing. Let Hoary Henry think what he wanted.

A/N: Thanks for reading, reviewing and faving. :D