FDanielle brushed the makeup brush on her cheek. "Like that?"

Felix made an affirmative noise. "Don't forget your chin."

"But this is cheek makeup."

"It's all over the face makeup." Felix corrected her. Danielle made a face. "Don't frown like that, it'll mess it up."

"Are you taking the piss?" Danielle did drop the grimacing frown.

Felix, from the other end of the FaceTime call, shrugged.

She applied the rest of the makeup at Felix's instruction. Someone bought her a lot of makeup for her birthday last month, and Felix insisted on teaching her how to wear it. Felix believed Sherlock left it with her after another case. Danielle let him believe that. She's none too eager to explain where she really got it.

The Woman never texted Danielle. Not the same way she'd texted Sherlock (over 50 times by Danielle's count) with an orgasmic custom ringtone. Danielle made a fake Twitter account to research the Dominatrix. It wasn't as good a cover as Danielle wanted.

After she made it home to tend to her pets, Danielle found messages from the Woman on that new Twitter account, a post shared from the Woman's own timeline. A post about being willing to share.

Danielle barely had time to recover before the Woman sent her more. More from her page, all sending a very clear message. To ram it home, after a week of being sent the invitations, the Woman sent a specific message.

'Tell Sherlock to have dinner with us'

Danielle didn't reply. To be fair, she'd been busy running after another killer when that message was sent. The dust settled. She read the DM. She wanted to faint. From fear? Excitement? Dread? Embarrassment? Yes.

She didn't tell the boys about it.

No.

Never.

Not even her own brother.

Sorry if that's not the way things are done. From Danielle's perspective, when a Dominatrix is messaging you about 'dinner' with her and another person? You keep that to yourself.

...of course she replied to the Woman. It'd be rude not to!

They've had conversations. Danielle tried to play dumb, but the Woman instructed her to stop so she did. She tried saying she didn't actually want it. The Woman instructed her not to lie. Danielle said she wasn't sure Sherlock actually wanted it. The Woman just sent her a winky face, then asked Danielle to bring Sherlock by for dinner.

No dinner ever happened. Danielle kept avoiding it. The Woman noticed. She did keep offering. Danielle never replied to those messages.

Then, around her birthday, she gets gifts. In the post.

Gifts.

The makeup, yes. A Twitter message was sent the moment the package was in Danielle's hand.

'I want to see you wearing them.'

The plural bit threw her off. Then Danielle noticed the rest of the items carefully tucked away in the box. The moment she noticed it, Danielle went red before hiding the box under her bed. The Woman wanted to see her wearing it! For the love of god-

Until today. 'Cause today, John and Sherlock were hosting a Christmas party. Well, John and his girlfriend, Jeanette, were actually hosting. Sherlock happened to be attending. Danielle too. Suddenly.

Her mum was gonna be throwing a Christmas party again, like every year, but called Danielle earlier in the week to say it was canceled. Felix said the same, so it's probably actually canceled. That's fine. She was going to wear a birthday present from Lilly Kelly- a posh dress, definitely from a store but fitting Danielle perfectly. She could reuse the dress.

Danielle showed off her look.

Her pale red hair got brushed down, but still looked elegant on her shoulders. The makeup suited her more than any makeup ever did. Her blue eyes sparkled, actually, and she didn't know eyes could actually do that. Her cheeks were blushed, not clashing with her hair like makeup sometimes did. The lipstick came in a shade of light pink, soft and gentle like her coziest jumpers.

Felix whistled. Danielle blushed, brushing her hand down her dress.

"We like?"

"Um, we LOVE!" Felix corrected. He clicked his fingers, like this was his favorite fashion show. Danielle rolled her eyes. "You actually look decent."

"Decent?!"

"Halfway decent."

"I hate you." Danielle groaned. She reached for a tissue. "I'm clearing it-"

"Don't you dare!" Felix warned. "I mean it! I worked too hard on it for you to erase it! Leave it!"

Danielle shifted in her shoes- fancy heels that Lilly Kelly said went with her dress. The straps dug into her feet, but apparently looked good. "I'm presentable."

"Definitely- was that a bloody pun?"

"No?" Danielle lied. She definitely didn't search a dozen stores or online for ages to find wrapping that matched her lipstick. "Speaking of gifts, did you like your's?"

Felix rolled his eyes, groaning as all Dad jokes demanded.

Danielle grinned, smug. Oh. She did like that look, catching it in the mirror. A smug smile suited her and made her eyes even brighter. Damn.

"Yes, I liked the art supplies." Felix sighed dramatically. He flopped down on his bed, the phone nearly upside down before Felix caught it. "You don't need to get me the big pack. A gift card is fine."

"I like buying you the big packs!" Danielle replied.

Seeing his paintings made Danielle so happy. She wanted him to work as often and to the best of his ability, which included having proper tools. The big packs not only came with lots of paints, but various brush sizes and even two medium canvases. Felix worked with all different kinds of art, but Danielle thought his paintings were the best. The statues were shit. He kept trying to recreate the scene from Ghost.

"I like getting people good gifts." Danielle said. "I loved my gift card, though, I got to buy my own gifts!"

"Did you. Or did you buy Erika and Nightwing gifts?" Felix said, after having experienced it a hundred times before.

"Gifts to them are gifts to me!" Danielle defended it. Erika needed that cute little bandana collar with Christmas ribbons, and Nightwing loved the toy hedgehog.

"Every time."

Danielle shrugged. "I don't know why you expected anything different."

"Me either." Felix sat up. "So. Tell me before he blogs it. What did you get for the neighbors?"

"Mrs Hudson is getting new mittens. Her's were getting on, and she loves baking." Danielle loved telling Felix stuff before John blogged it. It's only grown in popularity, she knew, and Felix loved having an inside scoop on any drama. "John's getting new jumpers, cause you get it. Jumpers look great on him. His girlfriend's a teacher, she's getting apples and pencils with these cute little worms-"

"And Sherlock?"

Danielle paused. She'd been so proud of it earlier, but now at telling Felix her stomach sank. It sounded lame out loud. "He's getting...stuff."

"Oh hell no. Don't get tight lipped now. If I'm not seeing you at Christmas, you gotta let me know what you got him!"

"It's not that great-"

"Yeah you gotta tell me. Tell meeeee!"

"Fine!" Danielle walked out of her bathroom. She stared at the boxes on her counter, tucked away into bags. John gave her the guest list so she got everyone something, but Sherlock's box stood out. Top of the bag, wrapped in black with pink ribbon. "I got him ash."

Felix blinked. His face twisted up in confusion. "Sorry, phone cut out. Did you say ash?"

"There's a new kind of cig- I found it at a local sort of shop, like they were just making things? I don't know. But I saw they had cigs that I'd never seen before. So I bought a bunch of their cigs in different flavors and- He likes tobacco ash, so I got him new ash! To add to his list. That's it." Daniele fidgetted with her hands as she spoke. Lotion smooth hands with

"He likes tobacco ash?"

"He can tell the difference between, like, 200 hundred types of tobacco ash."

"Aren't you trying to wean him off?"

"Yeah, but these aren't for smoking. I bought them for testing."

"And you think he'll stick to it?"

"Yeah! He loves science!" Danielle defended her choice. It's too late to change it. The party is right now. She grabbed her coat, pulling it on. She gave one last look to her brother. "So kindly fuck off."

Her brother's laughter cut off as she ended the call. She stared at her reflection on the screen, at her bright eyes and pink cheeks.

She settled herself for this fate. She owed her, afterall, for the makeup.

Danielle went back to the toilet. She faced the mirror, taking a picture of herself. Her pink lips curled into that smug smile from before, her eyes were definitely shaking in hesitation and maybe embarrassment. She took a deep breath to brace herself.

It's just a picture. What could the Woman do with a picture?

Danielle took it, and sent it. A line of text joining it.

Merry Christmas, Miss Adler.

==MPH==

Snow fell on Danielle as she walked out of 221. Her coat caught the flakes, the dark gray sprinkled with white and now damp patches as her body heat melted the snow. The door to the set of flats had a note on it, telling everyone to come on it.

Well. Actually it said 'Party happening. Come up if not busy.'

They let Sherlock write the note. That's sweet.

Danielle heard the violin music drifting down the stairs. She climbed up, mindful of her gift boxes and her own shoes. Heels would be the bloody death of her, that's for sure.

The door to 221B was wide open. Danielle saw inside, seeing Sherlock pace around his flat. His usual focus with playing captivated her. That's the only word to describe it. Danielle stood at the top of the stairs, just watching him play.

Sherlock wore a fitting dark suit, elegant as always. His hair the usual mess of dark curls, complimenting the suit and the violin under his chin. Decorating his pale face were those constantly shifting blue eyes, thin lips in a focused line, all focused intently on playing a Christmas song on the violin.

He finished with a grand flourish of the bow. He lowered both, turning to his audience.

Mrs Hudson's applause broke Danielle out of her spell. "Lovely! Sherlock, that was lovely!"

"Marvellous!" John agreed.

Danielle stepped in. "Uh- uh. Yes! I'd clap, but-"

"Danielle! Hi." John went to her side. "What are you doing back? You were going to visit your mum, right?"

"She canceled the party." She explained.

"No, she lied. She's not forgiven you for the scandal earlier this year." Sherlock commented. "Or Felix."

Danielle winced. She turned to John to give him a 'what can you do' look.

To be honest, she was taking advantage of a bad situation. She thought she wouldn't get to give everyone her gifts, since she would be out of town for the week. After her mother canceled the party (uninvited her), Danielle made a stop at home to gather everything. She felt a bit like Mrs Claus.

"You made it."

"Traffic was hell." Danielle joked. She put the gifts down on John's usual chair, as it was unoccupied. She untied her coat, sliding it off to put with the rest. "Hi!" She waved to Jeanette as the other woman walked by.

John grinned at them both. He held out a cup of tea to Mrs Hudson. "I wish you could have worn the antlers!" Mrs Hudson said to Sherlock.

"Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs Hudson." Sherlock dismissed. He turned away, tucking the violin away in the proper case.

Danielle wasn't watching his arse. Shut up. There's a reason her hands paused on her coat, keeping the garment on as she stared mouth agape at Sherlock's back.

Jeanette held out a plate of pies and cake to Sherlock. He stood up, snapping Danielle out of it again. "No thank you, Sarah."

Danielle winced. "Sherlock no-"

John came in for the rescue. "Uh, no, no, no, no, no. He's not good with names."

"No-no-no, I can get this." Sherlock straightened up, focusing on Jeanette. "No, Sarah was the doctor; and then there was the one with the spots; and then the one with the nose; and then...who was after the boring teacher?"

"Nobody."

Sherlock grinned. "Jeanette! Ah, process of elimination."

Danielle wanted to punch him. Then kiss away the bruises. What's wrong with her? Is this what went through the Woman's head that day?

Sherlock did finally look at Danielle. Or to the door. "Oh dear lord." He rolled his eyes.

Danielle checked. Molly walked in, a bag of gifts on her arm. Danielle leapt into Molly's space for a hug.

"Hi!" She hadn't seen Molly in two weeks. Lately, Sherlock visited Barts alone. Apparently John and Danielle were too distracting during his investigations. "Molly!"

"Danielle!" Molly used her free arm to hug Danielle. "Good to see you."

"Yes! We need to meet more often. Without the boys." Danielle nodded behind her, smiling smugly again.

Molly nodded, saying nothing. Lestrade- who stayed quiet until just now in the kitchen- toasted a cuppa at them. "Hello, everyone. Sorry, hello."

Danielle took the bag of gifts. Molly let her, going in for a hug with John. Danielle put the gifts beside her own.

"Oh, everybody's saying hullo to each other. How wonderful." Sherlock grumbled.

Danielle giggled. She finally took off her coat, since she finally had a moment's peace to remember it. "Come off it, you're just jealous that-"

"Holy mary!" John gasped.

Danielle jerked her head to him. The doctor was gawking at her. Molly. Lestrade, and Jeanette too. "What?" She held the coat on her arm, brushing her hair back on her shoulder.

Oh. Yes. The dress.

Danielle thought it was pretty, yeah. A dark black dress with faint silver roses on the skirt. The sleeves were shoulderless, extending to her elbows before stopping with silver fabric. Her chest was covered, thankfully, but she should avoid wild dance moves.

"Wow!" Lestrade finally spoke up, eyes wide and still staring at Danielle.

Danielle's cheeks were going pink. "Mum has black tie parties."

"Lucky we're having Christmas drinkies, then?" Molly asked. Her lips were a bit tight.

Danielle smiled, trying to be polite without showing her returned nerves. "Oh I'd love a drink." She glanced back at Sherlock.

The consulting detective sat himself down on the desk. He watched the others, boredom and disgust obvious on his face. "No stopping them, apparently." He took John's laptop, typing away on it.

Yeah, he's the only one not acknowledging the look. She'd never tell Felix about it.

"It's the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me, so it's almost worth it!" Mrs Hudson joked to the room. Clearly she'd been drinking for a while.

John brought two chairs from the dining room. "Have a seat." He said.

Danielle already took the seat beside Sherlock. His usual spot, but he took her spot so it's only fair. She looked over his shoulder to see John's blog.

"John?" Sherlock asked. John hummed, coming over.

Danielle tried to peek at the screen. She couldn't see anything strange about it. Just a case about the rare times Sherlock was baffled.

"The counter on your blog. Still says one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five." Sherlock reported.

"Ooh, no! Christmas is canceled!" John said. He walked back off to enjoy the party. Danielle snorted.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and his head with it. "And you've got a photograph of me wearing that hat!"

"It's a good hat!" Danielle excused. "People like it."

"No they don't. What people?" Sherlock dismissed.

"People in general." Danielle explained. She leaned closer to Sherlock, searching for the photo. She smiled brightly as she saw him. Sherlock, in his element, happy. "I like that hat." She and the Woman spent many an hour commenting about the Hat.

Sherlock continued to stare at the laptop screen.

Danielle felt her smile falter.

"How's the hip?" Molly spoke up.

"Ooh, it's atrocious, but thanks for asking." Mrs Hudson replied.

"I've seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems." Molly giggled. It was instantly an awkward one. "Oh, God. Sorry."

"Don't make jokes, Molly." Sherlock remarked.

"No. Sorry."

John came back to hand Danielle a drink. She smiled, thankful at him. "I thought it was funny."

"You think every joke is funny." Sherlock dismissed. Danielle couldn't disagree.

Lestrade gave Molly a drink. "Thank you. I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas."

Lestrade beamed. "That's first thing in the morning, me and the wife. We're back together. It's all sorted."

"No, she's sleeping with a P.E. teacher."

Lestrade tightened his smile. Danielle winced. She adjusted herself on the chair, sitting on the arm chair as she sipped at the wine.

"John, when are you seeing Harry?" Danielle asked.

John lifted the three bags of gifts off his chair. He moved them to the side. Jeanette took the spot. John sat on the arm. "Same time, tomorrow."

"Sherlock was complaining." Molly admitted. Danielle glanced at her. John too. "...saying."

Danielle smiled, holding back another giggle. Damn, she really did find everything funny, did she? Or maybe it's just so awkward she wanted to laugh to ease tension.

"First time ever, she's cleaned up her act. She's off the booze." John cheered.

"That's amazing-"

"Nope." Sherlock remarked,

"Shut up, Sherlock."

Danielle sat up. She adjusted the skirt of her dress, over her knees. "Well he probably hadn't told you I was-"

"I see you've got a new boyfriend, Danielle, and you're serious about him." Sherlock turned in the chair. He smiled thinly at her, eyes thin and crinkled with disdain.

Danielle stared, wine glass paused at her mouth. "Sorry, what?" The Woman is not a boyfriend. Danielle isn't meeting her, she swears. She dressed up nice for herself. That's allowed. Sure, she sent a picture to the Woman, but that doesn't count!

"In fact, you're seeing him this very night and giving him a gift." Sherlock kept on going.

Danielle paled. No. Nonononono. No he can't mean- no. No? Please god no. She'd been so careful not to make it obvious! Danielle wanted to sink into the ground, but found herself frozen.

"Take a day off." John warned, quietly, like he hoped Danielle wouldn't hear him say it.

Lestrade rushed across the room, putting a glass by the laptop. "Shut up and have a drink."

"Oh, come on." Sherlock ignored the offer. "Surely you've all seen the present at the top of the bag-perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best."

She'd realized the time and needed to work fast. Makeup took a long time, according to Felix, so they had to plan it ahead of time. Felix was gonna call any second so she needed to wrap them fast! Sherlock hates bright colorful wrappings, so she gave him black wrapping! Okay?! It- she- she hadn't meant it that way. Not on purpose!

Sherlock stood up from the seat. His shadow cast down onto Danielle, who could only stare at him. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't speak. All she saw was him, and that captivating arse walk over to the pile of presents.

"It's for someone special, then." Sherlock grabbed the black present, wrapped in a faint pink ribbon. He tossed it up, glancing back at Danielle then speaking to the audience around him. "The shade of pink echoes her lipstick-either an unconscious association or one that she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Nolan has lurrrve on her mind. The fact that she's serious about him is clear from the fact she's giving him a gift at all."

She wants to die. For the record, she wants to die. She hopes Jeanette poured Sherlock a poisoned drink, John grabbed it by mistake to hand it to Danielle. She couldn't bring the glass to her pink painted mouth. It stayed open, staring, not taking in air. She wished she'd skipped this, gone straight to her mum's anyway. Dealing with her angry mum and brother would be a kinder Christmas. Had she mentioned she wanted to die?

Worse yet she could feel everyone staring at her. Not at Sherlock, who continued to speak and be blatantly insulting of her present and appearance. They all watched Danielle.

"That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn; and that she's seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she's wearing." Sherlock lifted up the tiny little card attached. A Halloween gift tag she'd saved for this very occasion, cause she knew he'd appreciate it later. "Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts-" And he stopped, staring at the tag.

Danielle remembered what she wrote. A simple message in black ink.

Merry Christmas Sherlock. Hope you haven't seen these yet! ;)

Love Danielle

She made it too obvious, looking back. Everything just came together so perfectly. Why not try, her younger foolish self thought. He might like it. He might like you. Bring him to dinner.

Her lungs demanded air. Danielle forced herself to breathe in. "Sorry." She exhaled. The wine glass suddenly felt too heavy. She feared dropping it. Instead, Danielle moved it beside the laptop. She tried to laugh it off. The air constricted around her, making laughing impossible. "I...I didn't...I wasn't thinking. It was silly of me. Sorry."

I'm such an idiot. He's right, we're all idiots. I'm an idiot.

Sherlock stepped closer to her. "No. I am sorry. Forgive me." He walked back to his chair, sitting back at that same chair as before. Danielle never wanted to make eye contact with another human again. "Merry Christmas, Danielle Nolan."

He leaned forward. Danielle closed her eyes. She wanted to cry, but was too shocked to really conjure up the tears.

Warm lips met her overheated cheek. Her eyes shot open. She tried to see from the corner of her eye. Indeed, Sherlock leaned back.

He kissed her cheek.

He apologized, then kissed her cheek.

He kissed her cheek.

He also humiliated her.

But he kissed her cheek-

A loud, breathy moan filled the silence of 221b. Then, softer, a little chime.

Danielle yelped. She flinched back, falling back into the chair. "Tha-That wasn't me!"

"No, it was me." Sherlock reached for his phone.

"Wait, my phone-" Danielle got it out from her purse. She adjusted herself on the chair, her skirt with it.

"My God, really?!" Lestrade asked, gawking at Sherlock.

"What?!" Molly gasped.

"My phone." Sherlock held it up.

Danielle held her's. A message on Twitter. She unlocked her phone.

"Fifty-seven?" John guessed.

Sherlock hummed. "Sorry, what?"

"Fifty-seven of those texts-the ones I've heard." John said.

"Thought it was 56." Danielle commented, opening the message.

"He got another one this morning.

"Ah." Danielle wasn't replying to John. No, that sound came from the message on her phone.

'You're beautiful'

She's definitely dead.

"Thrilling that you've been counting." Sherlock stood up, walking away from Danielle and John. He reached for a small box on the mantelpiece. Red wrapping with black cord ribbon, Danielle noted. "'Scuse me." He went to the kitchen.

Danielle watched him go. Her phone buzzed again. She looked at the new message.

'Take care of him for me?'

Her stomach sank.

"What-what's up, Sherlock?" John asked.

"I said excuse me." Sherlock kept on walking.

The box was small. Not too small, like jewelry or something. In fact, if Danielle had to guess, the box was phone sized.

Danielle stood up. She followed after Sherlock

"D'you ever reply?" John called out to them.

Sherlock went into his bedroom. Danielle stopped in the doorway, watching him unwrap the box. Sherlock easily untangled the black knots. He lifted the lid to reveal a familiar phone.

The Woman's phone.

Take care of him for me?

Danielle started crying now. Tears fell on her face.

Sherlock brought up his phone. He held it to his ear. "I think you're going to find Irene Adler tonight."

Danielle went into his room. Her hand reached out, stopping short of holding his shoulder.

"No, I mean you're going to find her dead." Sherlock said into the phone.

Danielle held his shoulder then. Sherlock took a deep breath, exhaling as he tucked the phone in his pocket. Danielle leaned down, sitting beside him on the bed. She held his shoulder tighter.

"Sherlock?" The word came from her, but felt so distant from her mind. "Is something wrong?"

"No." Sherlock walked over to the door. Danielle followed him. When she was close, Sherlock pushed out then slammed the door shut.

Danielle turned to see John there. He stared at the door, then at her. He said no words but the question was clear on his face. Danielle shrugged, helpless to do more.

Very few people stayed alive when Sherlock Holmes deduced their death.

Take care of him for me

Danielle didn't know how

==MPH==

Sherlock didn't wait for any call. An hour after calling Mycroft, he left. Molly followed shortly after. Lestrade left, probably to talk to his wife. Jeanette went home and Danielle smelled a breakup.

Danielle tried to ignore it. She stayed with John, watching him organize around the flat.

She wanted to help. To do anything. God she bought him cigarettes, that's the last thing he should have after tonight. Or he should keep it. The Woman liked it when Sherlock was happy. She wanted Danielle to take care of him. Giving him cigs wasn't the best example of care, but if Sherlock needed comfort Danielle wanted to give it.

She needed to hug her dog, and cry into a pillow.

Instead, she watched John clear out the flat.

Another hour passed in a blur. Danielle said nothing. She stared at the mirror, at the makeup on her face. She needed to clean it off. There's plenty left in the flat. She just...she didn't want to get rid of it yet.

The Woman was dead. And one of her last words was to call Danielle beautiful.

Black lines marred her cheeks. Trails from her eyes, dripping on her chest and dress. She'll hate cleaning it later. Now she didn't feel much of anything anymore. Someone she might've liked died tonight, and the other humiliated her in front of all her friends. There's very little that can shoot past that amount of grief.

A phone rang. Not her's, not anymore.

John spoke into the end. Mycroft, by the sound of it. He swore. "He took the cigarette."

Danielle expected it.

"Danielle?" John tapped her arm.

Danielle hummed. Her mind felt like mush, moving to look at John.

John held her shoulder. His worry and concern shifted. Instead of focusing on something beyond this flat, he focused on her. "Are you okay?"

Danielle started to shake her head. She paused, reaching up to dab a tissue on her cheek. "I'll be fine." She'll get back her stiff upper lip. It's just taking a while this time. "Honest. Can I have a minute?"

John nodded.

Danielle went to Sherlock's room. The red box stayed on his bed, cast aside. The black cord too. Danielle picked up those, carefully placing them on his nightstand. She checked the sock drawer next. John always messed it up in an obvious way. She took great care to memorize the organization before shifting through the socks.

It made Sherlock less moody after.

In the silence of the night, Danielle pulled out her phone. Twitter was still open. Her chat with the Woman was still there. A picture of Danielle, hours ago, fresh and clean and pretty, and then two messages from a now dead woman.

Danielle might've been cleaning the socks for a while. While crying. She made sure not to let her tears drip down onto his socks. God, that'd just ruin everything for everybody.

She wasn't sure how it happened. One second, she's organizing socks. The next, she heard the sound of Sherlock Holmes coming up the stairs.

She quickly wiped her tears with her hand. She tossed the tears on the floor.

"Oh, hi. You okay?"

"Hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time." Sherlock opened his door. He stared.

Danielle grabbed the dresser. She pulled herself up to her feet, clasping her phone tight to her chest. "Right, yeah, sock index. He always bungles it. I made sure he didn't. You always get in such a fuss-"

"Give it up." Sherlock said.

Danielle paused. "With the socks?"

"Stop it. It's only going to hurt us both. Everything would be much simpler if you let it go." Sherlock argued.

Danielle glanced down at the still open sock drawer. "I don't understand."

"Yes you do. Oh you very much do." Sherlock stepped closer to her. The bedroom door stayed open behind him. The light from the hallway shined in, casting him in shadow. For the second time tonight, the shadow of Sherlock Holmes loomed over her. "Love is a chemical defect." Sherlock hissed. "Found on the losing side."

Oh. Oh right, yeah, cause that's still a thing that happened tonight. Danielle got him a present that he hadn't opened yet.

Sherlock ushered Danielle around. He shoved her into the hallway, pausing at his door frame to glare at her.

"Caring is not an advantage." Sherlock snapped. "So give up on it." He slammed the door in her face again.

Danielle stepped back. She needed-

She wanted-

She needed-

She turned around.

"Danielle wait-"

Danielle walked out from the side door. She didn't care about her coat. Or her things. She barely cared for the phone in her hands. She wanted to leave, curl up on her bed, and cry forever.

==MPH==

AN: Hey, how are y'all? You feel good? You like the chapter? I hope y'all liked it. I'm going to hide in a cave, until the comments stop coming.

Thanks to LeviIsMySpiritAnimal and Bunny's daughter for favoriting and for following