"You sound like--" Their father had begun to laugh himself, but he shook his head fondly. "No, never mind. Next year I'll make sure to get you one of those gift cards."

The sound of crackers popping and children getting their second wind drifted in from the living room. Apparently the younger Watsons had decided it was time for presents, and the few straggling adults still at the dinner table were moving to keep an eye on their offspring.

"We do gifts and carols," Mr Watson went on, already pushing out of his chair. "Dunno what you lot get up to in the city, but you can join us any time."

"Would you--ah--give us a minute?"

Sherlock's tone of voice was cool and assured, but there was something nervous in his eyes.