"Sherlock! I've got you a birthday present!"
"Is it a book?" he asked without looking up from his current project.
"I don't always give books!" she protested, giving him a quick hug. She knew how he felt about hugs, but insisted that it was appropriate on his birthday. He didn't even bother complaining anymore.
"Yes you do, and then you take them back and read them before I get a chance."
"Well, I would read them first if you wouldn't say anything about it."
"Why does that matter?"
"I don't know. It just seems rude when you point it out. It's not a book, anyway."
Sherlock examined his younger cousin carefully. She smelled of espresso and second-hand lavender perfume, so she had been on a coffee date, and with one of her girlfriends rather than a man. She wasn't holding anything, and there was nothing in her pockets. That didn't mean she couldn't be hiding something physically impossible in her pocket book or something, but she generally didn't because other people who weren't in the know might notice. The only other time she had given him a gift that wasn't a book, it had been intangible: a trip. Only one of her girlfriends worked anywhere he would want to go.
"You finally got Molly Hooper to let me observe an autopsy."
Hermione grinned. "It wasn't as difficult as it might have been. I think she's got a bit of a crush on you after the Yule Party. If you pay her a bit of attention, she might bend the rules and let you do a few experiments, post autopsy, of course."
"You are my favorite family member," Sherlock informed his cousin with a small smile of his own.
"I know… but that's not really saying much, since the only other contenders are Mycroft and your mum."
"I have another cousin. You went to her wedding."
"Well, yes, I know, but I'm not entirely convinced you remember her name."
Sherlock waved a hand dismissively. "It's not important."
Hermione smirked. "It's Cherie."
"I knew it started with a 'C'."