John’s work ethic is something to be (hated) admired.

Sherlock watches John get dressed from under the covers, his lips pressed into a thin line. Doesn’t understand John’s unwavering devotion to the surgery. So mundane, so predictable. Sherlock plucks at the back of John’s jumper when John sits on the edge of the bed to lace up his shoes.

“Stay,” he (demands) asks. Doesn’t have a reason. Not really. No case on. Criminals unusually well behaved the week of Christmas. And John’s assistance isn’t necessary for any of the twenty some-odd experiments currently occupying Sherlock’s time until something more interesting presents itself. Still.

“Bad case of the flu going around. Sarah needs me.”

“I need you.” Sherlock doesn’t even bother trying not to sound petulant.

John ruffles his hair. “Love you, too.” Grabs his coat and heads out the door.

Sherlock spends the rest of the morning devising a way to (manipulate) persuade John to stay in bed all day. Or until Sherlock gets bored and finds something else to do, and John can join him. And make him tea. And compliment his resplendence.

Sherlock waits for John to fall asleep that night before he implements operation Baby, It’s Cold Outside. (Bloody Christmas music.) John is, by nature, a light sleeper. But he’s adapted to Sherlock’s restless comings and goings so Sherlock’s mischief goes largely unnoticed.

When John wakes, he shuffles into the kitchen. Rubbing at the corner of his eye and wriggling the sleep out of his nose. “Morning…” He falters. Blinks at Sherlock dressed in a garishly green jumper. Doesn’t bat an eye at the eight bottles of milk arranged meticulously on the table. “You did the shopping.” Said somewhat incredulously, which Sherlock chooses to ignore.

“I decorated.”

John peers at the sprigs of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling. The haphazard fairy lights strung around the flat like a spider’s web. The (polyvinyl chloride) Christmas tree festooned with beakers and blood red tinsel. “It’s nice.”

Sherlock is pissed when John therefore takes a shower and gets dressed.

“Where are you going?”

“Work. Can’t be late.”

Sherlock (traps) embraces him from behind. “Call in sick.”

“With what?”

“Morgellons,” Sherlock whispers seductively in his ear.

“Mm. And what treatment do you recommend?”

“Bed rest.”

“Go on.”


“I’m listening.”

“Me burning this ridiculous Christmas jumper in the fireplace.”

John turns. Kisses Sherlock on the mouth. He says, “Wouldn’t miss something like that for the world.” and allows Sherlock to remove his coat.


Love this episode, SO CUTE!  (They’re so excited to see Santa, especially Garu)!


[ Now that it’s almost Christmas time…






It snows a lot one day, so much that Ian, Mickey, and Mandy get trapped inside. It’s right around afternoon when boredom strikes so Ian suggests they go sock-skating on the wood floors of the house. Mickey protests right away, but finally gives in after the constant pestering from Mandy and Ian.

It doesn’t take long before the three of them are laughing and sliding along the floors of the Milkovich home. At one point, Ian slides too much and almost finds himself face-first on the floor, but Mickey catches him with his arm. Ian looks up at him and smiles. “See that, Mick? I literally fell for you.”

Mickey just smiles at him. “You’re such an idiot.”

“But you love it.” Then Mickey softens and kisses Ian gently, still holding him up. “Yeah, I do.”

Mandy groans in the background. “You two are fucking gross."