Summary: Fluffy Christmas chapter featuring presents, Sherlock being funny and warm and Mycroft bringing an unexpected gift. The events in A Scandal in Belgravia are out of order so this is when they meet at Sherlock's for Christmas drinks. Sorry if that bothers you and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 17 - Christmas at Sherlock's

Before I knew it, December had come and it was almost Christmas time. Mrs. Hudson had mentioned there would be a "Christmas drinks do" at Sherlock's. I wasn't sure if I was in the mood to attend, but a few days later I passed John on the stairs and he said they'd be delighted to have me there. So, despite my broody mood, I decided to go. It had been two weeks since I last saw Mycroft and he asked to continue our arrangement. Surprisingly, he had kept his end of the deal and only texted me a few times asking about Sherlock, where he was, or what case he was working on. I gave short polite answers and that was that. I hadn't heard from him in a few days and I assumed it was because of the Holiday season. Perhaps he considered I should have the days off, which I should appreciate but I knew, deep down, I missed him. Despite everything he'd done, he was respecting my space and I appreciated that. I just never thought he would. I thought he would keep chasing me. This was a foolish thought that I felt guilty of having but I had it anyway. Due to all this, I hoped the party would cheer me up.

I put on a nice black cocktail dress, something simple and not too over the top. I didn't know what to get everyone so I just brought a bottle of wine. I was glad Lestrade was also there and soon Molly showed up too. Sherlock had played a song on his violin and after being quite mean to Molly, he got a text and retired to his room. John explained it was a text from The Woman and we all silently understood he probably wanted to be alone.

After a while, and without Sherlock's presence, the party wound down a little and everyone eventually left. Lestrade claimed he had to get up early to meet his wife for Christmas, Mrs. Hudson said she was past her usual bedtime and John and his new girlfriend wanted to go out for drinks and, I assume, spend time together in private at her flat.I hadn't given Sherlock his present yet so I made my way down the hall to his bedroom and tapped softly on the door.

"Sherlock?"

"Go away."

"No! I want to give you your Christmas present."

The door opened and he stood before me in one of his casual suits with no tie and an upturned brow. "You got me a present?"

"Of course I did!"

"But you didn't get one for John or Mrs. Hudson or…the others." He stated.

I felt my cheeks redden. "Well, I got a bottle of wine for everyone! But I wanted to give you something."

"Why?"

"Sherlock! Because it's Christmas! I just wanted to get you something, that's all."

"Oh." He answered boredly, then his eyes lit up and he brought his fingers to his lips. "Oh. I see." He was smirking wickedly now.

"What?" I asked slightly worried.

"You care about me."

I chuckled. "Of course I do Sherlock! You're my friend."

His smile dropped then. He opened his mouth but hesitated. "Alright. Whatever. Let's see this present then." He relented, feigning disinterest but I beamed at him and clapped my hands.

"Yaay! Come, I have it here."

He followed me into the living room and stood patiently as I rummaged my bag for the gift. I purposefully didn't put it in a gift bag because I didn't want to give it to him in front of the others. It felt rude to bring a present specifically for Sherlock and not anyone else. And, after witnessing Sherlock deduce Molly's wrapping paper choices, I was thankful I had hidden it.

I took out a rectangle wrapped in paper with little Santa's on it and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Shut up. Just open it." I said, still smiling as I handed it to him.

His lips formed a small smile as he took the present from my hand and unwrapped it. It was a book titled Social Cues For Socially Inept Adults: How To Read The Room and I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched his eyes skim over the cover with a furrowed brow, his expression morphing into an annoyed look. Then he smiled. He actually smiled an open smile and looked up at me with a happy chuckle. "Very funny Sylvia. Thank you."

I grinned back at him happily, my heart feeling a little warmer knowing he appreciated the joke. "You're welcome, Sherlock. Merry Christmas."

Then he stared into my eyes more closely, his smile fading into a more serious expression. I swallowed and looked down, a little embarrassed and not knowing quite what to say. I could use a few tips from that book as well, with my usual anxiety and awkward social skills. I clasped my hands together in front of me and looked up again, only to find Sherlock still staring at me. My polite smile dropped. I was starting to get worried.

"He doesn't deserve you, you know." He said softly.

"What?"

Sherlock took a step forward with his long slender legs and closed the distance between us. My eyebrows shot up.

"My brother. You're too good for him. Too kind. He doesn't know how lucky he is to be the object of your affection."

"Sherlock…"

"You don't deserve the way he treated you, Sylvia. You deserve to be appreciated. Treasured. Not lied to." He spoke in a low voice and my heart was pounding in my ears.

"Sherlock I…" I felt tears stinging at my eyes, the sadness I had been repressing over Mycroft bubbling to the surface. I looked down and tried to hide it but felt Sherlock's finger softly touch my chin and raise it up so I would face him.

"He doesn't deserve your tears either." As he spoke he gently stroked my face and wiped a tear away, then he brought his other hand up and cupped my face, wiping them away from my other eye.

"Thank you Sherlock." I managed to croak out and wrapped my arms around his torso into a big hug. I buried my face in his chest and sighed, letting myself relax. Sherlock brought one hand around the nape of my neck and another to my upper back and he stroked my hair gently. It felt nice to be held. I knew Sherlock wasn't a big fan of physical touch so I appreciated it even more. Plus, I didn't exactly have close contact with anyone so I was a bit touch starved. I loved being hugged and I loved Sherlock for doing it for me. All these peaceful thoughts flying through my head in milliseconds were interrupted when I heard a throat being cleared. I jumped and looked around, startled until my eyes landed on Mycroft standing in the open doorway, carrying his usual umbrella in one hand and a gift bag in the other. Goddamnit, why did Sherlock always leave the door open?

I stepped away from Sherlock and looked around, feeling embarrassed. I glanced at him and he was smiling triumphantly at Mycroft who in turn had his jaw clenched and his lips pursed, seemingly made of stone.

"Sorry to interrupt, brother mine. Miss Sylvia. I just dropped by to-"

"Check up on me because of The Woman yes, yes, I know. And as an excuse to see Sylvia I'm sure. Sorry you caught us in the middle of an intimate embrace."

"Sherlock." I say irritated but this only makes him smile even more. Mycroft looks down at his shoes. He looks uncomfortable and embarrassed. We all stand awkwardly for a beat with Sherlock studying Mycroft intently. I feel out of place so I decide to leave.

"Well, I'll leave you to it." I say, walking towards the door and moving to walk around Mycroft but he turns towards me and speaks in a flat tone: "Miss Sylvia I wanted to have a word with you, if you wouldn't mind."

I stop midway up the stairs and make myself turn around, trying to hide how embarrassed I was by scratching my forehead. "About what?"

Mycroft clears his throat and turns around, glaring at Sherlock. He, in turn, strides confidently towards the doorway as Mycroft looks down his nose at him. "Behave now." Sherlock says with a wicked smile, and slams the door in his face. Mycroft rolls his eyes and turns back towards me. He takes a step forward to move away from Sherlock's door I assume, and I descend a few steps to come closer as well.

"What is it?"

"I wanted to give you your Christmas present." He replies in a clipped tone. I could tell he was uncomfortable and I couldn't help but smile. He signals to the bag he is holding.

"Oh, thank you I…didn't know…" I start.

"I got it before our…quarrel." He replies in a slightly softer Mycroft to use such an old fashioned word. He extends the arm holding the bag towards me and I take it, my fingers brushing against his. I feel my already racing heart pound faster. I look down feeling as red as a tomato.

"Thank you so much I-I've got one for you as well." I reply bashfully, glancing up at him. He raises an eyebrow.

"I have it just…upstairs. Come, come with me." I turn around to walk up the stairs trying to shake away my shyness and hear Mycroft's steps following after me. I take out my keys and open the door, standing aside to let him come inside my flat. He does and looks around with a pompous and disinterested look on his face. I'm sure he hates my taste in decor compared to his mansions.

"I have it right here." I say pointing towards a small Christmas tree I got at a charity shop. Under it, lies a wrapped present inside a festive Christmas bag. I pick it up and bring it to him. He's still standing by the door.

"Thank you." He replies, eyeing the bag suspiciously, but takes it anyway. I swallow again, because I've never had people over and I'm not sure what to say or do in these situations, but I don't want to be rude.

"Shall we open them?" I reply, signaling for him to sit down on the sofa. I don't wait for him and sit first because I have a suspicion the man is not used to paying social visits either.

He nods and sits down on the other end of the couch, facing me. I take out a large package wrapped in brown paper and string and look at him with a smile and a suspicious frown. "Wow, it's quite big." Then my smile drops at my stupid choice of words and I clear my throat, as I begin unwrapping it wordlessly. It must be a poster of some kind. I peel back the paper to reveal a beautiful painting of a river under a bridge at night time, with the moon reflected upon its waters. I hold it up in front of me with my lips parted. It's the painting from the art auction at the ball. The one I was staring at. The one Mycroft asked me if I liked. This had been months ago. I couldn't believe he had bought it for me. Jesus effing Christ.

"Mycroft, this is…from the ball." I turn to him with wide eyes and find him with a small smile on his face that makes my heart melt.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it! Oh Mycroft, you shouldn't have! It's beautiful, thank you." I grin at him and turn to look at the painting again. "I'm going to hang it up right now!"

I get up and turn around, climbing on the sofa and taking down the other painting I have hanging there, just a random one of the Big Ben and the London Eye. As I do, Mycroft raises his eyebrows and lifts his arms towards my legs. "What are you doing?! Get down from there!"

"It's fine, don't worry. I'm not gonna fall." I giggle and hang up the painting. Then, I place my hands on my hips and admire it proudly. "Thank you Mycroft, it looks really beautiful." I look down at him and notice he's still wearing a slightly alarmed expression. He holds his hand out for me to take it, so I hop down from the sofa and sit beside him again, trying to ignore the tingle I felt from feeling his hand beneath mine.

"Your turn!" I beam and nod for him to open his gift.

He smiles softly and takes the present out of the bag carefully. As he gently tears the paper open he reveals what's inside. It's a fluffy pair of pyjamas with little Mr. Grinch's printed on them. They're absolutely ridiculous and I knew Mycroft would never be caught dead wearing them. Which is why I got them for him months before. I've never seen him in anything other than his three piece suits and I often wondered what his sleeping clothes were like. I was sure he had silk suit pyjamas as well.

He pulls out the fabric, his brow furrowed with a puzzled expression. "I hope I got your size right." I blurt out between chuckles.

He glances at me with a mock-annoyed smirk. "What in the world are these?"

"They're Mr. Grinch pyjamas. I thought they were quite fitting to you."

"Is that so?" He replies, biting his tongue.

"Yes. Don't forget, his heart grew three sizes that day." I reply smiling.

"I see. Well, thank you Miss Sylvia." He replies with an amused smirk.

"You're welcome." I say, still grinning from ear to ear.

We stare at each other for a beat. I breathe in and try to think of something to say but I just swallow. He looks down pensively and speaks softly: "Well, I should be off. Thank you again, Miss Sylvia."

"Of course." My shoulders sag with disappointment that he's leaving but still I try to put my best smile on. I get up and he follows, and I walk him to the door feeling awkward again. "Right. Thank you too Mycroft. I mean, thanks. It really is a lovely painting. I can't believe you remembered I liked it."

"I'm glad you do." He turns towards me on the doorway and looks up. I follow his gaze and find a branch of mistletoe taped to my doorway.

"What's…I didn't put that ther-" I frown, alarmed. "Sherlock."

Mycroft chuckles lightly. "Typical of my little brother to pull these pranks. I apologize on his behalf, Miss Sylvia."

"It's okay. We don't…it's just a joke." I chuckle nervously, feeling flustered.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Sylvia." He tells me with a warm inviting smile.

"Merry Christmas, Mycroft." I reply and smile too, leaning against the doorframe. He shoots me one last glance with a smirk and turns to walk down the stairs. I close the door and cover my face with my hands, ready to go downstairs and smack Sherlock's head for taping mistletoe on my doorway.

Notes:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter and had a lovely holiday and new year's :) I would love to know what you think of the story so far, do let me know!