"Sherlock," Scarlett spoke his name, "your brother wasn't lying when he said he would send a car for you this morning."
"I am well aware he wasn't lying," Sherlock informed Scarlett as he lie on the sofa, wearing a normal white shirt and jacket like usual. "But if he thinks I am willingly going to go and help him with some case in Botswana then he is quite mistaken."
"Botswana?" Scarlett's eyes went wide and Sherlock rolled his.
"I was just using that country as an example Scarlett," Sherlock told her. "He could want me to go to any number of places in the world."
"Even though it is Christmas in a few days?" she checked and Sherlock sat up and looked over at her.
"Why does everyone have a perception that the world comes to a standstill on that particular day? Things still happen and life goes on...I fail to understand why some people celebrate it." He informed her and she simply just shook her head.
"Regardless of your beliefs," Scarlett told him. "You're still coming to the Christmas Party with me tomorrow night and we are still celebrating Christmas and I'm going to cook a Christmas dinner and you're going to sit and watch crappy Christmas TV with me all afternoon."
"I can barely contain my excitement," Sherlock murmured.
"Look...I have to be off to work...just...go and see what your brother wants," she told him and Sherlock simply just shook his head.
"I shall not be the one to give into his requests," Sherlock said and he stood up, walking over to the window and looking onto the street where a black car was sat across the road. Scarlett looked around the living room and managed to locate her coat and bag before she looked back at Sherlock.
"I'll see you tonight!" she called over to him and he nodded once, his eyes still trained on the outside world.
"Bye then," Scarlett murmured and she moved out of the flat. Sherlock watched as her blonde hair bobbed along the pavement and how she managed to stay upright on some of the ice before managing to hail a cab. As much as she begrudged the fare, there was no way she was going to risk slipping and hurting the baby. The car across the road had been there for approximately eighty two minutes and there was no sign of letting up. Sherlock took a deep breath and thought of the thrill of the case which could be involved and then the thought of Mycroft put him off and resumed his spot on the sofa.
...
"Miss Jenson," a voice spoke when Scarlett left work that evening. She was walking out onto the pavement in search of a cab when she saw a man stood to her left. She looked up and then groaned silently.
"Mr Holmes," she returned the pleasantries. "What can I do for you?"
"My brother...I'd like to know if he is well," Mycroft informed her. "It seems he isn't picking up his phone and I would hate for him to be unwell."
"Sherlock was perfectly fine when I left him this morning," Scarlett told Mycroft. "Maybe he is just trying to hint something?"
"And what could that be Miss Jenson?"
"That he doesn't really want to take your case?" she suggested and Mycroft chuckled lightly and hailed a cab for Scarlett, opening the door for the young woman to climb into.
"Make sure you remind him his child's education could depend on this," Mycroft told her before setting the cab on its way.
...
"You cannot be serious," Sherlock snapped at Scarlett as she stood in the bedroom on Christmas Eve in her white lace dress and nude heels as she looked at Sherlock with a pleading face.
"I'm begging you Sherlock," she told him. "The entire firm from all over London is going to be there and it's a fancy reception."
"Are you saying that I don't look presentable now?" he motioned to his purple shirt with the blazer pulled over it as Scarlett sighed loudly.
"You look like you normally do Sherlock...just put the tie on and then we can go...I don't want to be late and I don't want to turn up on my own." She told him dangerously as she grabbed her clutch and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Sherlock to his own leisure as she saw John in the living room.
"Bloody hell," John whispered when he saw Sherlock appear a few seconds after Scarlett, his hands moving a tie around his collar as he buttoned up his blazer and then looked at Scarlett.
"Is that more to your satisfaction?" he snapped at the young woman and she rolled her eyes.
"Yes Sherlock," she said. "It was like dressing a child," she informed John.
"Well I've certainly never seen him wear a tie before," John informed her. "Are you feeling alright Sherlock?"
"Now is not the time for your witty remarks John," Sherlock told his friend.
"I actually can't think of a better time," John replied with a sly smile on his face.
"How about you use them tomorrow, when Sarah comes round for dinner?" Sherlock suggested and Scarlett's mouth fell open and she looked over at Dr Watson.
"You never told me," she accused him and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"He was going to," Sherlock told her. "He just didn't know the best way to tell a hormonal pregnant woman that she was going to need more food in."
"John," Scarlett complained. "Nowhere will be open tomorrow...it's Christmas."
"I'll go and get some more food tonight," John told her.
"Fine," she said. "I suppose I should meet the elusive Sarah."
"You're really not missing out," Sherlock told her in a whisper.
...
"Well," Sherlock said. "They've certainly lashed out on your client's money." He took in the sight of the room; large round tables for eight lined the room, dressed in crisp white tablecloths. The bar was bustling with people ordering martinis and champagne. At one end there was a dance floor and it looked like a string quartet was about to strike up as other people walked into the room.
"Do you think you can play nice?" Scarlett asked Sherlock as she ordered two orange juices.
"I know that I can fake it," Sherlock told her and she rolled her eyes.
"Just...don't...do anything brash or insult anyone because a dress doesn't suit them or complain about the food because the meat isn't fully cooked or-"
"I get the message," Sherlock told her. "So I don't have permission to go over and tell that woman that the dress she is wearing does nothing for her figure?"
"Sherlock," Scarlett scolded him but a smile went onto her lips as she sipped her orange juice and hit him lightly on the chest with her bag as he couldn't help but grin down at her, ceases forming in his cheeks as he then sipped on his orange juice.
"Scarlett!" a sudden voice boomed and she looked to the side to see Daniel Fisher walking up to them. He was a new solicitor in the building and liked to pride himself on being a ladies' man. Of course, Scarlett knew he was just desperate but she didn't speak out against him. Mr High seemed to have taken a liking to him for some reason. As he walked over, a young brunette was plastered to his arm as she wobbled around in heels.
"I think someone has taken advantage of the free bar," Sherlock said as they turned their bodies to face the other young couple.
"Daniel," Scarlett greeted him. "This is Sherlock Holmes...Sherlock, this is Daniel Fisher, and he is a new solicitor for the firm."
Sherlock managed to extend a hand to the man and he took it, shaking it hard as Sherlock inclined his head.
"Nice to meet you," he managed to spit out.
"And you too Mr Holmes...I didn't even know Scarlett had a boyfriend...but now that she does I shan't make a move," he winked at Scarlett and she watched how his date never even flinched.
"Oh," he said, suddenly remembering his arm candy. "This is...Lucy...she's...well...she's a model..."
"Hi," she smiled and simply just raised an awkward hand in acknowledgement.
"So...what is it you do Mr Holmes?" Daniel asked and Scarlett simply just wrapped a hand around Sherlock's arm, begging silently for him not to say anything bad.
"I'm a consulting detective," Sherlock told him and he raised a brow.
"Is that a bloody made up job?" he chuckled and his date wrapped an arm over his shoulders.
"Well, yes," Sherlock said. "I suppose you could say so, considering I am the one who made it up."
"So...what is it you do?"
"I assist people when they need help...I deduce things about them and can read people and then help solve crimes because of it," Sherlock told him simply.
"You're psychic then?" he asked and Sherlock shook his head. "Read me," he demanded.
"I think we'd best be getting to our seats Sherlock," Scarlett said eagerly but Sherlock remained stuck in his spot as he looked over at Daniel.
"I can tell that because you have some form of model draped all over that you that the only way you could have won a girl so good looking is if you managed to impress her with your fancy lifestyle, however, considering you're only a trainee due to your young age I would say that is unlikely and she does look a few years older than you. Twenty seven I would say?" he looked at the model and she nodded to confirm. "Anyway, that means that she isn't willingly here because she could possibly do much better than some male who's voice has just broken and so that means that you paid her to accompany you tonight. You also made that obvious when you stumbled when trying to remember her name and so you really do not know who she is, and she didn't even make a move when you mentioned flirting with Scarlett which means it isn't serious. You just wanted a good looking girl with you tonight to impress your co-workers because you have confidence issues. Now why do you have confidence issues?" Sherlock mused for a moment. "Either you were the class geek at school and wanted to prove you're not a nobody now by bringing along an expensive escort, or you want to try and impress your boss, hope of promotion by showing off your imaginary wonderful life. Or you could have confidence issues because you have a small-"
"And that's enough," Scarlett said loudly whilst Daniel and Lucy remained silent.
"I wasn't finished," Sherlock told her and Scarlett grabbed onto his arm and began to lead him over to the table where she sat down and he sat next to her.
"I was going to say he had a small personality," Sherlock told her. "You really do need to pick your mind out the gutter."
"What I do need," she said, "is a stiff drink."
"In your state I wouldn't say that is wise," Sherlock told her and he suddenly felt his phone vibrate. Quickly, he pulled it out and answered it, talking to Lestrade which could only mean one thing.
"You have to go, don't you?" she asked him and he stood up, removing his tie and placing it into his jacket pocket.
"Lestrade needs me," he told her and she nodded.
"I'll walk you out," she said. "You can call me a cab out there too."
"Aren't you staying?" he asked and she shook her head.
"No," she replied. "Not alone."
"Come on then," he said and grabbed onto her hand as they dashed out into the cold night of London.
"Will you be back for Christmas?" she asked him and he shrugged.
"I don't know," he said. "If it is any conciliation then these cases Lestrade has called me on have been very easy."
"Just...be careful...okay?" she checked with him and he smirked to the side.
"I think our time of being careful has passed," he told her and she shook her head but smiled.
"You know what I mean," she told him and he wrapped an arm around her waist as he hailed a cab for her and it drew to a halt.
"I'm always careful," he said and Scarlett nodded as he opened the cab door for her.
"Sherlock..." she began but then she found herself suddenly leaning up and kissing him forcefully, her hands wrapping themselves into his black hair as he allowed his body to relax around her and his arms held her waist before he broke it off and looked down onto her as she smiled, her forehead still resting against his.
"Put her down!" the cabbie yelled.
Scarlett chuckled and Sherlock simply nodded at her as she climbed into the cab.
"Merry Christmas Sherlock," she said, before he shut the door. He watched her drive off in the cab before he muttered;
"Merry Christmas Scarlett."
...
A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews my story! More to come later and leave your opinion!