I should be out tonight with Jeanette but things, as ever, haven’t gone to plan. What Christmas isn’t complete without your guests being humiliated, your girlfriend dumping you and a woman being murdered.
Sherlock was his usual tetchy self, managing to make Christmas all about him but I can’t bring myself to complain about him too much. Not after the death.
Irene Adler. She’s gone and he won’t dare admit it but he’s devastated. He can’t show it and I don’t think he understands what he’s feeling. Sometimes he’s so cut off from everything, so cold, so lacking in emotion that when he does feel something… well I think it’s the one thing on this planet he’ll never quite get. (x)