Just thought I would update before tonight. I bet you're all very, very excited. I can ensure you I am.

Anyway this is just a little chapter. I hope you enjoy it. It's just a little bit of fluffy fun.

Hope you're having a brilliant New Years!

Their first Christmas

It was well known in particular circles that Sherlock Holmes was the world's greatest detective.

He had a better ability than most to remember and take in even the most minute details and regurgitate them eloquently.

But there were some things Sherlock chose not to take in.

Some things he chose not to remember.

Whether subconsciously he had deemed them irrelevant or unimportant to learn or whether he had chosen to forget or ignore them, John Watson was to learn that it wasn't only the solar system Sherlock Holmes was unaware of.

John had just returned to 221b after his last (and indeed longest shift before Christmas).

It was December the 24th and laden with bags filled with last minute shopping, John made his way up the rickety staircase, up towards the flat, both he, Sherlock and Rebecca all now shared.

"Anyone home?" he called nudging open the door with his foot and stumbling into the living room.

He spotted Sherlock seated in an armchair next to the crackling fireplace.

The detective remained silent, his eyes staring forwards.

John gave a huff and placed his bags down onto the sofa.

"Its a bloody nightmare out there," muttered John. " Utter chaos!"

Sherlock blinked, his fingers rapping on the arm of the chair slowly.

"Hmmm?" he said without looking up.

John frowned, striding across the room and sliding open the kitchen door.

"Last minute shoppers," said the doctor bluntly. "I knew I should have got everything done weeks ago...but of course... I left it to the last minute AGAIN!"

"Left what?" said Sherlock, his dark eyes flickering upwards towards John who was filling up the kettle.

John glanced over at him as he flicked off the tap and placed the kettle down onto its holster.

"Christmas shopping!" said John incredulously, folding his arms across his chest.

"Ahhh, I see," said Sherlock with a slow nod, resting his chin on the tips of his fingers. "Of course."

John frowned and stood up straight. "Wait, you hadn't forgotten had you?" he asked cocking his head at the dark-haired man before him.

"Not forgotten," uttered Sherlock snappily. "Merely unaware."

John's eyes widened as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Unaware? Sherlock how could you not know it's Christmas. It's bloody Christmas Eve for God's sake! December the 24th. It's the same every year. "

Sherlock shrugged. "I'm not religious, why would the holiday matter to me?" he said sharply. "But I suppose it all makes sense now."

"What does? The Christmas lights in the streets? The adverts on the telly?" said John with a half laugh.

"No," said Sherlock darkly. "Rebecca's behaviour. She seemed angry when I refused to let her decorate the flat. I told her it was fine the way it was. I assumed she meant to paint the walls or purchase some new furnishings."

John shook his head, placing his hands to his hips.

"How could you not know it was Christmas, Sherlock?" he said stepping forwards.

Sherlock threw John a sulky look.

"Some of us have more important things to worry about," said the detective with a scowl.

"Um, yeah," said John with a smirk. "Like what you're going to buy your girlfriend when all of the shops shut-"

He glanced at his watch.

"-in an hour."

"Rebecca isn't my girlfriend," said the detective narrowing his eyes. "She's my...my...-"

"What?" said John looking amused.

Sherlock growled. "Fine," he said his eyes flashing darkly. "What do you suggest I get her then?"

"What your girlfriend, Rebecca?" said John biting his lip.

"Yes," snapped Sherlock, huffing. "What do you think she would want?"

John turned, pouring boiling water into a mug. He gave a nonchalant shrug. "You're the one sleeping with her Sherlock," he said holding back a laugh at the look on the detective's face at this statement. "Surely you should know what she likes?"

Sherlock stared forwards, silent for a long moment before he let out an uncharacteristic moan, causing John to stifle a laugh.

"You'd better get your skates on," said John teasingly, taping his watch. "Time's a ticking."

Sherlock pounced to his feet and began to pace back and forth, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he did so.

He gave another huff.

"Come on," said John, stepping into the living room and placing his mug of tea down onto the table. "You're a consulting detective, surely you can think of something."

Sherlock stopped in his tracks pausing by the door, his eyes fixed on something on the sofa.

John's bags of shopping.

"No Sherlock," said John firmly, reading the detectives mind.

"I just need an idea," he said reaching for the bags before him, as John ran over, snatching them out of his hand.

"Get off," shouted the doctor, holding them out of his grasp. "Go find your own. I thought long and hard about these gifts and theses no way I'm letting you take the credit!"

Sherlock scowled at John, before reluctantly flinging on his coat, stepping through the open door, taking care to slam it loudly behind him.

Rebecca rubbed her tired eyes as she waited on the platform. It was late evening and after completing a horrendous amount of paperwork back at the office, she was catching the tube back to Baker Street.

As the train pulled up in front of her, she followed a large crowd of people into the carriage as the doors hissed closed behind her.

Clinging onto a bar above her head, she hung her head as the train scooted off into the darkness.

She was exhausted. It was Christmas Eve and she knew that all she had to go back to was a sulky Sherlock Holmes.

Furious that he had not let her put up Christmas decorations she had stormed out of the flat and not spoken to him in almost two days.

She frowned just thinking about it.

Only Sherlock could make her feel so angry.

As the train came to a stop at Baker Street tube station, Rebecca hopped off, taking the escalator's up and out onto the cold bustling street above.

But she had barely stepped out from the cover of the station when she walked slap bang into a dark, looming figure almost knocking her off her feet.

"Oi! Watch where you're going you stupid fu-"

"Nice to see you too," said the baritone voice of Sherlock Holmes, who had just manage to place a hand to the small of Rebecca's back to stop her from falling back down the steps behind her.

She scowled at him. "What are you doing here?" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

"I believe it's a free country," he said darkly, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

Rebecca gave a shrug, looking away at the passers by rushing to and fro.

"So," said Sherlock, pretending to sound uninterested. "Shall I escort you back to 221b?"

The young lawyer gave a sniff. "I suppose," she said with an air of pretend annoyance.

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk as she looped her arm around his and they made their way across the busy street.

They walked a few paces and turned a corner. As they did so, a chilly wind flew past them, whipping up Sherlock's coat, causing something red and shiny to flash in his inside pocket.

"What was that?" said Rebecca narrowing her eyes at him.

Sherlock stared forwards. "Hmmmm?"

"In your pocket. I saw something," she uttered, reaching across him and trying to tug at his lapels.

He gently pulled away from her grasp.

"No you didn't," he said coolly.

She blinked, stopping in her tracks, a grin appeared on her lips. "Yes I did. What is it? What have you got?"

She made to grasp at his coat once again, but before her fingers could slip past the thick fabric of his coat he entwined his slender fingers with hers.

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but she slowly closed it, her lips twitching up into a grin.

"Come on," sniffed Sherlock, glancing up towards down the road towards 221b. "You must be cold."

Rebecca pulled her collar up towards her chin with her free hand. "Very," she said, before giving his slender digits a squeeze and tugging him up the road towards their flat.

Two minutes later the pair stepped over the threshold of 221 Baker Street, Rebecca giving Sherlock a playful nudge as they did so.

Their hands still remained clasped as they climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to their living room.

Rebecca let out a gasp as she stared around.

The whole room had been decorated from top to bottom with red and gold dangling garlands, tinsel and a large tree that sat in the corner of the room covered with twinkling lights.

John, who was just pining the final garland to the ceiling, glanced over his shoulder, grinning at the stunned girl.

"It was all Sherlock's idea," said John carefully stepping down from the chair he had been teetering on. "He wanted to surprise you before you got home."

Rebecca smiled widely before cocking at eye at Sherlock who had an odd expression upon his face.

She wasn't sure how much she believed John's statement but the thought was enough. She gave the detective's hand a squeeze, before brushing past him, pressing the quickest of kisses to his bony cheekbone as she did so.

As she moved over to admire the tree John, strolled over to where Sherlock stood.

"You owe me one," muttered the doctor in a low voice, as he waltzed off into the kitchen sliding the door closed behind him.

Sherlock gave a sigh, slowly moving over to where Rebecca stood silently, she shuddered slightly as he came to stand beside her.

"It all looks….beautiful," she said in what was almost a whisper. "John did a good job."

Sherlock gave a half frown, before rolling his eyes. Of course, she was much quicker than he gave her credit for.

The cold detective pursed his lips together watching her from the corner of his eye, before slowly he pulled a small, red, package from his inside coat pocket.

"You might as well have this now," he said, glancing away and holding the little wrapped box out towards the young lawyer.

She slowly blinked up at the uncomfortable detective and gently took the gift from his grasp. Turning it over it her hands, she glanced at the label and paused…

A few seconds passed before she glanced up at Sherlock a small smile passing across her pert features.

A long minute seemed to pass as both stood in utter silence, before gingerly Rebecca opened the small red, expertly wrapped box. (Not wrapped by Sherlock of course, she knew that for sure.)

"They're gorgeous Sherlock, thank you," she said as she stared at the beautiful pair of diamond earrings placed carefully inside.

He had of course spent a lot of money on them and put very little thought in, probably allowing the assistant at the counter to choose which pair. But was not this wonderful piece of jewellery that made Rebecca's heart warm, nor cause her to reach up and peck Sherlock on the lips and nuzzle her face against his slender neck.

"Come on," she murmured after a long moment slipping her hand into his. "Mrs Hudson's made us some mince pies and mulled wine."

And with that she dragged the looming detective after her into the kitchen to join John leaving the earrings on the table, the lid to the little red box lying next to it.

In the light of the crackling fire the tiny label could just be seen…

To You, My Partner,

Love always,

Sherlock

X

Please review!