Sherlock missed his train home. The local police had bungled the case; he would likely be in Chesterfield through Christmas.

John imagined Sherlock was livid. But he couldn't know for sure, because Sherlock was halfway across England, and John was setting up for their Christmas party, alone.

Mrs. Hudson brought up the mince pies half an hour early. "I'll eat them all myself, if I'm not careful," she said.

John remembered himself. "Please, sit down."

She smiled and sat.

"Tea?" he asked. "Sorry, I'm not…"

"That's all right." She took his hand and patted it. "Let's wait for everyone together."