“Papa, when will Lily be here?” Hamish asked.
Sherlock turned to look down at his son, exasperated. “You just asked that thirty seconds ago!”
“I did not!” Hamish defended.
Sherlock sighed and looked at the kitchen clock. “An hour. Just like I said thirty seconds ago,” he muttered.
Hamish nodded, satisfied with his Papa’s answer and marched off to his room to gather his old toys. Hamish and his cousin enjoyed experimenting on anything they could find, and they had a full night to experiment.
Sherlock hid in his bedroom, plopping into the bed and relaxing. Hamish has been pestering him for the past 48 hours asking when his cousin would be there for their Christmas party. He’d barely gotten a word in. He understood what John had suffered through now.
John heard his husband from their bathroom and poked his head out to see him.
Sherlock smiled at his shaving cream covered face. “You needed a shave,” he teased. “The kisses were too scratchy.”
John chuckled. “You love my scratchy kisses,” he said.
Sherlock followed his husband back into the bathroom and rested his head on John’s shoulder from behind. “Hamish?” John asked. Sherlock nodded. John mock pouted. “Sorry, Love. He’s a little kid. He’s excited,” he explained.
Sherlock nodded. “I know. It’s just a bit tiresome.”
John laughed at his husband and went in for a kiss, smearing the cream all over Sherlock’s cheek. “Oops. Looks like you’re getting a shave too,” he said, wiping the cream off.
Sherlock laughed and kissed John. Their lips smacked as they kissed, and they laughed into each other’s mouths at the silliness of all of it.
Sherlock and John broke apart to see their daughter standing in the doorway. She was wearing a pretty white jumper and black leggings.
Sherlock smiled. “You look so beautiful,” he said.
Rosie smiled. “Thank you,” she said, a bit distracted.
Sherlock noticed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked.
“I- I have a question,” she said.
John approached the two of them, wiping excess cream off his face. “What is it?” he asked. The concern was obvious in his voice.
“Could I have a friend come over for the party?” she asked.
Sherlock and John glanced at each other. They turned back to Rosie. She looked up at her father’s hopefully. “Yes,” they both said.
Rosie grinned and hugged each of them. “Thank you,” she said and skipped off.
Sherlock turned and smiled. “You’re cleaned up now,” he said to John, motioning to his husband’s creamless face.
John nodded and flashed a smile, making Sherlock giggle. They kissed again before Sherlock pulled away. “You better stop kissing me, or else we’ll be late to our own party,” Sherlock said.
John smirked. He gave Sherlock a gentle kiss before releasing him to get dressed.
“Lily’s here! Lily’s here!” Hamish exclaimed, running from window to window to more easily see his cousin.
There was a knock at the door and Hamish ripped it open. A girl tackled him to the ground, exclaiming his name happily. “Hamish!”
“Lily!” Hamish said as he was tackled.
Lily released her cousin and stood up. Her red dress was a bit wrinkled but she still looked adorable. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Sherlock.” She gave her uncle a hug, squeezing her small arms around his waist. “And Uncle John,” she said, hugging her other uncle.
Hamish took his cousin’s hand and led her to his room. “We’ll be playing soldiers,” Hamish said before pulling the door closed.
Sherlock chuckled at his son and turned to meet his brother and brother-in-law. “Mycroft,” Sherlock said.
Sherlock stared, cold, before he cracked a smile. “Merry Christmas.”
Mycroft nodded in reply, his own warm way of response.
Sherlock turned to Greg. “Merry Christmas, Lestrade,” Sherlock said.
“And happy new year,” Greg said.
Sherlock smiled and turned to look at John. He was shaking Mycroft’s hand. “Merry Christmas, Mycroft,” John said.
“And you too, John.” Mycroft somehow managed to make a Christmas wish sound condescending.
Sherlock smiled at his husband’s slight glare before taking his hand and walking to the living room. “Mycroft, Greg, please take a seat on the sofa,” Sherlock instructed. The two men obeyed and sat beside each other.
Sherlock returned to the kitchen and brought out four cups of tea. He passed the cups out before sitting in his chair.
“Where’s Rosie?” Greg asked. He missed his niece.
“She’s still upstairs primping,” John said. “She’s got a friend coming over.”
Mycroft and Greg shared a knowing look. “A friend?” they asked.
“Did she tell you who this friend was?” Mycroft asked suspiciously.
“No. It’s probably just one of her friends from school. Most likely Rose or Emma,” John said.
Mycroft nodded. He looked at his brother and cocked an eyebrow. Sherlock nodded. Mycroft settled down then.
Finally, Rosie came down, hair curled in the front. The shine of lipgloss could be seen upon her lips.
“Merry Christmas, Uncle Greg And Uncle Mycroft,” she said.
“Rosie!” Greg exclaimed. He hugged Rosie and Mycroft even smiled at her.
“Have any of you heard the doorbell?” she asked, turning to each of the men. They all shook their heads. She groaned and disappeared into the kitchen to calm herself.
Sherlock and Mycroft looked at each other. “Boyfriend,” they hissed.
John cocked his head at his husband. “What?”
“The friend she’s invited is actually her boyfriend,” Sherlock said.
John looked at the kitchen where his daughter was. “Well then, we’re just going to have to have a little talk then,” John said, rising from his chair.
Sherlock shot up and grabbed John’s wrist. “John, you can’t tell her he can’t come over now,” Sherlock said.
“Why not?” John demanded.
“Because,” Sherlock began. “If we meet this boy, we’ll be able to tell whether or not he’s good for her.”
John began to protest but Sherlock stuck out his lip and John gave in to defeat. “Fine,” he said.
Sherlock grinned and sat back down. The doorbell rang as John took a seat again. “I’ll get it!” Rosie said. John set his jaw as the door opened.
A voice greeted Rosie with much warmth. It made Sherlock smile and John growl.
“Where is everybody?” the voice asked.
“In the living room,” Rosie said.
“Okay. Can you come in with me? I don’t want to go in alone,” they said.
“Of course,” Rosie giggled- giggled, much to John’s hatred, and then led someone into the living room. “Papa, Daddy, this is Tim.”
Tim was a cute boy with full cheeks and light brown hair. It curled at the bottom of his ears. He wore a nice button down dress shirt with black trousers and a black jacket. He smiled at the four men around him. “Merry Christmas.”
A chorus of “Merry Christmas”s broke out as all the men responded.
Rosie turned Tim towards her uncles. “Tim, this is Uncle Myc and Uncle Greg,” she introduced.
Mycroft nodded stiffly, and Greg smiled. “Hi,” was all Tim said. He turned back to Rosie’s parents. “Mr. Holmes,” Tim began. “Rosie’s told me all about you,” he said to Sherlock. “And Mr. Holmes,” Tim said, looking over at John. “It’s a pleasure to meet a true hero.”
John nodded and shook Tim’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said, trying to be as friendly as possible.
Tim smiled and turned to Rosie. “Where’s Hamish?” he asked.
“Oh, in his room with our cousin,” she said. She led Tim down the hall.
The four men gathered together. “I don’t like him,” John said.
“He’s a nice boy. Not the brightest,” Mycroft observed.
“He cares about first impressions,” Greg added.
Mycroft flashed Greg a proud smile, making Sherlock feel like he was in the Twilight Zone for a moment. His brother affectionate? Never.
The secret couple returned and the men broke apart. “Dad,” Rosie asked.
John turned to look at her over his seat.
“Is dinner ready?” she asked.
John looked down at his watch and nodded. “Indeed,” he said. He stood, as did the other men. They paraded into the kitchen.
Rosie and Tim went to fetch Hamish and Lily. “Hanish, Lily, dinner is ready,” Rosie said as she opened the door. As she entered the bedroom, she was nearly hit with a flying toy soldier. She squealed and hid in Tim’s arms. Tim held her. “What was it?” he asked.
“One of Hamish’s toys,” she said, glaring down at her little brother.
Hamish was laughing. “Your face!” he howled.
Lily shoved him. “Let’s go eat,” she said. Hamish followed her to the kitchen.
John and Sherlock began to serve food, finally serving themselves and sitting down. There was no conversation at first, as everyone was digging in but John finally made his way to interrogating Tim.
“So, Tim,” John said. “How’d you meet Rosie?”
Tim swallowed his potatoes. “We met in English class,” he said. “We also have science together.”
Rosie nodded. “We were partners for an assignment in English class,” she explained.
John nodded. He looked over at Sherlock. Sherlock cleared his throat. “How long ago was that?” he asked.
Tim and Rosie looked at each other, trying to remember correctly. “Two months,” they said.
“Yes, two months,” Rosie stated clearly.
Sherlock nodded and continued eating. He gave John a reassuring look. His husband was a bit overprotective.
Hamish and Lily finished eating first. They raced right back to Hamish’s room to cause more mischief.
Tim and Rosie finished next. Rosie wanted to show Tim her room but John said they should stay downstairs so Tim could get to know the family.
Greg and Mycroft sat on the sofa. Greg was leaning into Mycroft, full and getting tired.
Sherlock and John sat beside the other couple. Their hands were laced together, and John’s thumb was slowly stroking Sherlock’s knuckles. Sherlock smiled and kissed John’s cheek.
Rosie and Tim has taken John and Sherlock’s chairs. They were each sipping a cup of cocoa and sharing smiles.
“So, Tim,” John said.
Tim looked over at him, licking his upper lip. “Yes sir?”
“What do you plan on having as a career?” John asked.
Tim grinned. “I’d like to join Scotland Yard, like Mr. Lestrade,” he said.
Greg laughed. “Mr. Lestrade. Mr. Holmes, please, or just Greg,” he said.
Tim nodded. “Greg.”
John nodded. Tim obviously had a good plan for his future. “What do your parents say about that?” he asked.
“Oh, they’re fine. My mom is just worried I’ve picked something dangerous,” Tim explained.
Rosie giggled. “Your mom is very overprotective,” she said.
Tim laughed along with her. “Yeah.”
Rosie smiled at him then gasped. “I have presents,” she said, then ran upstairs, quick as a flash.
She came back down with her arms full of wrapped gifts. John rushed over to help her. So did Tim. They helped her carry the presents to the living room. Sherlock handed her each gift so she could pass them out. She’d gotten everyone a thoughtful gift, even Tim.
She’d gotten Mycroft a pair of socks with police cars on them to “remind him of his love”.
She’d gotten Greg a silver ring with the bisexual flag on the underside, so he could wear it to work but still show his pride. The man had no pride wear whatsoever and Rosie had been determined to change that.
She had bought Sherlock a magnifying glass with his initials, WSSWH- William Sherlock Scott Watson-Holmes-, engraved into it. Sherlock hugged her and thanked her immensely.
Rosie had even gotten John a book on his favorite band, Queen. John held the book close and Rosie closer as he thanked her, giving her forehead a kiss.
Finally, she reached Tim’s gift. It was a small box. He unwrapped it excitedly. He pulled out the watch. It had the Scotland Yard logo in the background, behind the hands. He looked down at the watch then up at Rosie.
“I know you want to join Scotland Yard, so I bought you that,” she said.
“I love it,” Tim said.
Rosie smiled and hugged him. “You’re welcome.”
Tim looked down at his watch then gasped. “Is this the actual time?” he asked. Rosie nodded. “I’ve got to go then,” he said.
Rosie pouted for a moment. “Can I walk you outside?” she asked. Tim nodded and they left.
Sherlock picked up his violin. “Going to play for us, Love?” John said smiling. Sherlock only smiled back as he began to play “Jingle Bells”.
It was after five minutes past John determined Rosie has been out for too long. He put on his coat, pecked Sherlock on the cheek, much to Mycroft’s disgust and Sherlock’s amusement, and went to fetch his daughter.
The two teenagers must not have heard the door open because John caught them kissing. “Dad!” Rosie exclaimed, breaking away from Tim.
John looked between the two of them in shock, disgust, and anger. “Rosie, get back inside before you catch a cold,” he ordered.
Rosie looked at Tim apologetically before disappearing inside the house.
John turned to Tim. The boy started to apologize. “Ah, shh,” John said. Tim shut his mouth. “It’s okay,” John said. “You make her happy. I approve,” John said.
Tim grinned. “Thank you sir.”
John smiled back. “Now get on home before you catch a cold too,” John said.
Tim nodded, thanked John again, wished him a Merry Christmas, and raced home.
“And Merry Christmas to you too, Tim,” John said. Maybe he could get used to Tim being with Rosie. It was Christmas after all.