A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has been reviewing this story. Please continue, and all those of you who are enjoying it but have not yet reviewed. Go on, do it, you know you want to ;-P

So just two more chapters to go after this. :-D

As ever, I don't own this (shame). Please enjoy. :-)

On the 10th day of Christmas my true love gave to me ...

4th January

The blue light from the police car in the street below was casting strange shadows on the walls of 221B Baker Street. DI Lestrade stood in the doorway, his hands resting on his hips as he looked down at the young man-child who was currently lying on the sofa with his back to the room. Sighing wearily, Greg repeated the words he had already spoken three times since climbing the stairs to the flat. 'Sherlock, I really don't have time to play games. There is a murderer running loose around London. Will you help?'

Sherlock huffed in response, reminding Lestrade of a toddler who is seconds away from jamming his thumb in his mouth and demanding his 'blankie' The DI groaned, and turned to walk back down the stairs, saying as he left, 'I'll text you the address of the victim, I would appreciate your input!'

Seeing Mrs. Hudson standing at the bottom of the stairs, Greg stopped and turning to her, he asked, 'What is his problem? He was fine, well, fine for Sherlock, the last time I saw him a few days ago.'

Mrs. Hudson sighed as she answered 'his brother came over earlier, I heard them arguing about that jigsaw puzzle Sherlock's been doing. There's a clue in it apparently, and Mycroft has worked it out, but Sherlock hasn't managed to as yet. Mycroft was winding him up about it, so Sherlock's sulking. Though a nice murder should put him right, there's nothing that young boy likes more than a nice juicy murder, inspector. Though, of course, he's also missing John. I hope he comes back soon, the place just isn't the same without him.'

Greg looked a little shocked when he heard Mrs. Hudson's comment about a 'nice juicy murder', but considering she rented a flat to the young consulting genius, he decided to just ignore it in favour of her other observations. 'So he still doesn't know who his mystery admirer is then? That must be galling for him, he hates not knowing.' Lestrade replied. 'Well anyway, I'd better go, the crime isn't going to solve itself. Take care of yourself, Mrs. Hudson, and don't let Sherlock get too demanding.'

Opening the outer door, Greg paused as he looked down and saw a familiar brown parcel. Bending down, he picked it up and moved back into the hallway of 221, calling out to Mrs. Hudson as he did so.

'There's been another delivery, Mrs. Hudson.'

'Oh, I'll take it up to him, I'll make him a nice cup of tea, and take him up some of those biscuits he likes, I made a fresh batch a few days ago, I should have a few left. You run along, inspector, you don't want to keep the others waiting, dear.' said Mrs. Hudson.

'Well ... if you're making tea? Have you got any of those chocolate biscuits with the oaty bits in them? Maybe it will be fourth time lucky with a cup of tea inside him, I can try to talk Sherlock around, get him to visit the crime scene' replied Greg, a soft pleading smile crossing his face, his warm brown eyes showing a remarkable resemblance to a lost puppy.

'Oh, very well, just this once mind, I'm Sherlock's landlady, not the housekeeper.' stated Mrs. Hudson, trying, and failing, to sound angry at being taken for granted in such a manner.

Greg's mouth widened into a grin as he pulled out his mobile to send a text to Sergeant Donovan informing her that he would be delayed.

A short time later, the detective inspector carrying a tray of tea, and biscuits, followed Mrs. Hudson who was carrying the neatly wrapped package up the stairs to flat 221B. The door was opened and they walked in. Sherlock had finally decided to get up from the sofa, and was now sitting at the desk, studying the finished jigsaw. The four songbirds, the stag and the robin all staring up at him mocking his lack of understanding. "What had Mycroft seen, that he had missed." thought Sherlock as his hands gripped his curls in frustration. Hearing the sound of the door opening, he turned in his seat. His eyes narrowing, Sherlock glared at the two visitors.

'I thought you'd gone Lestrade! Didn't you say something about not having time to "play games"?' said Sherlock sarcastically, then noticing the tea tray, he smirked as he continued, ' Oh, but I see that your love of tea overrides any feeling of civic duty you may possess.'

Mrs. Hudson looked disapprovingly across at her young tenant, from her position at the coffee table, where she had been pouring out the tea and filling a plate with biscuits. Sherlock catching the look, which was so similar to John's when he had said something the doctor would not like, in his peripheral vision, grimaced slightly, before standing up, walking over to the table and collecting his cup from his landlady with a small thank you.

'In the interests of keeping the peace, I'll ignore that little dig. You've got another gift from your secret admirer.' replied the inspector, glancing at the package on the table where Mrs. Hudson had placed it when she walked in.

Picking it up, Sherlock checked it as usual, and finding nothing further of interest on the wrapping, he opened it carefully and peered inside. Blinking several times in shock, he reached in and pulled out an odd shaped object using only his index finger and thumb, before dropping it back into the parcel.

In that brief moment, Greg got only a fleeting impression of cardboard and clear plastic. The sort used for packaging purposes. 'Hey! Sherlock, what is it, what did you get this time?' Greg asked, as he reached for the parcel, only to have it pulled away by the young genius. 'Sherlock! What is it?'

Sighing, Sherlock gave in to the inevitable and handed over the package, though he removed the note he had just seen before doing so. Greg looked into the parcel and raised a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter. 'Oh that is good, that is a brilliant gift for ten lords a-leaping.' said Greg as soon as he had calmed himself enough to speak. Removing the gift from the parcel, he turned around to show Mrs. Hudson the action figure of David Tennant as the tenth doctor, complete with sonic screwdriver.

Mrs. Hudson smiled apologetically and said softly, 'I don't get it dear.'

Lestrade smiled in reply as he answered, 'well, he's a timelord, isn't he, the Doctor, and David Tennant was the tenth actor to play him, unless you count John Hurt in the fiftieth anniversary special, but anyway, he's generally accepted to be the tenth incarnation of the character. So ... ten timelords a-leaping.'

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as a frown creased his brow. 'You seem to know an awful lot about all of this inspector? Something you wish to share?' he asked, his gaze piercing in it's intensity.

'What?!' replied Greg incredulously. 'No! I watch it with the kids. There are plenty of people who enjoy Dr. Who, Sherlock, and there are a lot of people who know considerably more than me. Take John for instance, he watches it, and Anderson, he watches it too.'

'Oh how nice, you can start your own little fan club!' remarked Sherlock sarcastically.

'Just read us the note that came with it Sherlock.' said Lestrade as he purposely ignored Sherlock's previous comment.

Sherlock huffed, then realising he was never going to get his own way, (Lestrade had been spending way too long around John), he opened the note in his hand and began reading. 'My dear Sherlock, my gift to you is, as you have seen, the tenth timelord. I know that you do not appreciate the joy that is Doctor Who, but I felt that it was an interesting gift to present to you, my love. Please don't do any experiments on it, I don't want to find that you've melted it in the interests of science. Also if I were to be brutally honest, I couldn't think of anything else. Only two more days until I see you. I am counting the hours. Always, Your True Love.'

Sherlock's hand lowered as he placed the note on the table and turned away plucking the box with the tenth doctor action figure inside from Lestrade's hands as he walked back to the desk and sat down in front of the jigsaw puzzle. Putting the box down, he turned to the inspector and his landlady and said quietly 'go now ... please. I need to think! Oh, and Lestrade? That murder you came to see me about? Check on the neighbour's alibi for the time of the murder.'