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My Favorite Sweater

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The atmosphere at 221B was oddly charming. Christmas décor and other miscellaneous things were hanging about. A Christmas tree stood tall in the corner farthest away from the kitchen where most of Sherlock’s experiments presided.

Thankfully, almost all of Sherlock’s researches were packed up for the time being. The smell of the place was dominated by the scent of pinecones and peppermint. It was definitely different from the normalcy of 221B.

However, as delightful as it was Sherlock Holmes was still a resident and because he was, there must be chaos.

He was sitting on the floor of the flat currently opening presents from his only friend, John Watson.

They, well John really, had decided not to spend too much money on gifts seeing as how rent was due on the 28th of December.

Guessing that it was a moleskin notepad, he went through the gestures of being surprised. Honestly, it was a thoughtful gift; his last notepad was starting to fill up. He gave a small grin to the anxious looking John.

“Thank you; I appreciate your observance in noticing my casebook.” His voice held a hint of emotion.

John beamed, “You’re welcome. Took me a couple of days to figure out what to get you. Honestly, what do you get a genius?”

Sherlock ignored John’s musings and handed John the present he had picked out.

Smiling to himself, John was wondering what the detective had gotten him.

Tearing the wrapping paper with no thoughts of recycling it, John had found a box. A cardboard box.

With his face falling in disappointment, Sherlock sighed. “Really John? The present is in the box. Did you really believe I would give you a box for Christmas?”

Feeling embarrassed, John opened the box and was presented with a cream colored sweater.

John gasped, it was beautiful. Made of wool and with intricate designs sewn into it, it was easily the best looking sweater John had.

“Sherlock, I thought we put a budget on presents this year?”

Sherlock was distracted from his thoughts, “Hmmm?”

“There was a £20 limit on gifts correct?”

Sherlock frowned, “Yes I know.”

John was exasperated, “How much did you spend on this?”

“Nothing.”

Starting to feel his blood pressure rise, “Sherlock did you steal this?”

Feeling put out, Sherlock said, “I made it myself. You needed a jumper and you weren’t going to purchase yourself one because of our so called ‘money problems’ so I made you one. Now you’re getting upset and I don’t know what I did wrong.”

John was chuffed; no one besides his own mother made him a jumper before.

“That was very considerate of you Sherlock. Thank you.”

Sherlock rose from his sitting position, “So I’m not in trouble?”

John got up, paying careful attention to his leg. “No you’re not."

Sherlock’s phone went off and John groaned. “Good I’ll need my blogger, now get dressed there’s a crime scene.”