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Hearing a sudden sound that woke you, your eyes fluttered open. When you looked around your room, you half expected to see Sherlock sitting by your bed, or standing in the doorway ready to berate you about a new theory on his most recent case. You were more surprised to find your room silent, and no sign of Sherlock having been there.
Turning over, you glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly 8am. Hearing another thud, you recognized it as something hitting the floor of your room from downstairs. Letting out a sigh, you threw off your blankets and climbed out of bed.
Rubbing your eyes as you clambered down the stairs. Rounding the corner, you saw Sherlock sitting in his chair in the living room. Beside him on the table was a platter of breakfast food, and two cups of tea. Lying across Sherlock’s lap was a tall cane, which you supposed had been what he had used to wake you.
Sherlock did not look to greet you, but motioned to the food. “Breakfast.”
“I see that.” You said with a soft smile as you grabbed a cup of tea. The Christmas tree in the corner that you had all but blackmailed Sherlock into allowing you to get, was lit up, and you let out a short laugh. “I didn’t expect you to be so excited about Christmas morning.” You noted as you walked towards the tree, looking it over with a cheery pleasantness.
“I’m not. However I must admit I have not been able to stop thinking about it.”
You turned and looked down at him. “About Christmas?”
“No. I could easily forget that.“ He waved his hand indifferently. "You said you got me a gift, but refused to tell me what it was.”
You chuckled. “Well yeah Sherlock, that’s kind of the point of Christmas.”
Ever since you mentioned to Sherlock that you had gotten him a present, even after his constant begrudging of Christmas, he had been attempting to guess what it was. He never did like surprises nor really the idea of gifts, for fear of feeling indebted to someone else. So the fact that you consistently kept it hidden from him - certain he had tried to find it - and also refused to tell him what it was, annoyed him to no end.
"It’s distracting. I have more important things to focus on.” He said with a hint of resignation.
“You’ve never had trouble before ignoring things.” You said indifferently, causing him to glance at you for a moment before standing up.
“Well? It is Christmas morning, isn’t that when people are supposed to open presents?”
You smiled to yourself as you took a drink of your tea before setting it down. You ran upstairs to retrieve Sherlock’s gift that you had hidden in your room since the night before, having had a friend hold onto it before for you.
Sherlock was not doing a very good job at hiding his true emotions. He attempted to convey annoyance and indifference, but you could see beneath the surface, he was excited. Knowing Sherlock as you did, this surprised you, but unlike on many occasion, it was a good type of surprise.
When you arrived back down stairs, Sherlock was looking out the window, as the frost began to disappear from the window panes, revealing the cold streets of New York.
“Here you go Sherlock.”
As he spun around, and looked at the wrapped object in your hands, you grew nervous. Sherlock was a hard person to understand on an average day. Understanding him well enough to get him a gift was more than anxiety inducing.
Walking towards you, he slowly took the gift from you, almost hesitating for a moment. You took a breath and told yourself, that even if he did not like it, at least you were kind enough to try.
Sherlock flipped the present over in his hands and glance at you. “A book?”
You rolled your eyes a bit, playfully. “Come on Sherlock, no one likes a guesser, just open it.”
You saw the faint hint of a smile play at his lips before tearing the wrapping paper from the bottom. Pulling out the object, he was not surprised to find he was correct in guessing it was a book. Though it is one of the more obvious objects when wrapped.
He was surprised however, at seeing what book it was. His hands brushed across the vintage books cover as he read the cover. It was written in Mandarin, and appeared to be nearly a hundred years old. It was an old book about bees, and beekeeping. As Sherlock looked at the book, he recalled he had told you all about the history of beekeeping, and in particular it’s history in China.
He had a few books on bees and beekeeping, but none as old or as informative as this one seemed to be, as he flipped through the pages.
As you watched Sherlock read over the cover and began to flip through the pages, his face seemed to hold a hint of interest, though you were unsure of whether or not he liked it. You found yourself desperate to find something that he would truly appreciate, not only because you were determined too, but because you had feelings for him. Though you were sure they would always be unrequited.
“So…did I do good or bad?”
Sherlock looked up at you, and saw the apprehension on your face. A faint smile appeared as he spoke. He was unsure of how to reply for a moment, but, taking a short breath he spoke fluently. “This is a very thoughtful gift Y/n, and unlike many of the books in my collection. In this case, I would say you did very good.” Your eyes lit up at his words, and he saw the anxiety fade away. His own heart beat a bit faster at the sight as he saw how much you truly wished to get him something he would like.
“May I ask, where you got it?” He questioned as he looked back at the book.
“When I went to Chinatown to get some more of that tea you like, I saw it in an old vintage shop. I couldn’t not get it.” You smiled at him as you spoke, delighted that he seemed to appreciate it.
“I must admit, I was unsure of whether I would appreciate your gift, in some ways I thought you might get me a gag gift of sorts, to put me in my place, as it was.”
You shook your head, “Oh, no. I always take Christmas gifts seriously. Well, on most occasions that is.”
Sherlock smiled softly, “Well, in that case, I will not feel too brazen to give you this.”
You watched as Sherlock stepped toward his chair, and reaching down behind it, pulled out a large box, wrapped in what appeared to be various newspapers.
“I could not find any wrapping paper, so I improvised.” He admitted as he looked at the box in his hands.
Your face showed obvious surprise, that, admittingly, gave Sherlock a hint of gratification. He knew it would take you by surprise that he got you something, especially a Christmas present. He had been entertaining the idea of getting you a gift, well before you let it slip that you had gotten him something. Then the idea became a reality as he knew he must. Not because you would expect it, but because you wouldn’t.
But more than that, he wished to find some way of showing you, even a little, how much he cared about you, even if you only saw it as a platonic feeling, which had long since not felt himself.
“Sherlock, you didn’t have to get me anything.” You said as Sherlock held the box out for you.
“Of course I did not.” He said a bit rushed, but then gaining his composure he gestured for you to take the box. “I wanted to.”
Taking the box carefully from him, you were surprised at how heavy it was. What could he possibly have gotten you? You thought back on the other gifts he had bestowed, or forced upon you. Self defense gadgets, weapons, or various science kits to get you more involved in his cases.
Setting the box down, you ripped the paper away, revealing a rounded carrying case. Your interest piqued as you wondered it it was just some form of luggage. But from beside you Sherlock whispered, with an obvious hint of elation.
You glanced at him as you undid the clips, he rose his brow a bit and nodded. Lifting the lid of the case, you were awe to find a beautiful violin set, containing the instrument itself, a bow, cleaning supplies, and a manual.
You were so surprised at the gift, that you were only able to let out a small sound of astonishment.
Sherlock smiled to himself before speaking softly. “I remember you once mentioning you had an interest in learned.”
You looked over at him. “Yeah, I did. But, I didn’t think you had heard me.”
Sherlock smiled a bit at you. “I always hear you. It may not always seem like it, but I do always listen to you. You are not someone I can ignore, nor do I want to.”
His tone was gentle and held sweetness behind it that almost startled you. And his gaze was soft as he peered at you with an unfamiliar fondness.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you considered his words, and you smiled at him before expressing your gratitude. “Thank you Sherlock, I love it. I promise I’ll do it justice.”
His smile widened a bit, and he almost chuckled. “I am sure you will. You are quite quick at learning new skills. And, if you do not object, I would be glad to help you begin.”
You smiled brightly at him. “I would not object, I would be very happy if you did.”
He nodded his head a bit. “Good. We shall soon be playing duets.”
You let out a soft laugh, which he returned with a pleased smile. Your gazes were locked in mutual delight, and though neither of you expressed it, you both saw something you hadn’t seen before. And it gave you hope, that this Christmas was just the beginning of something much more.