YULE

[fighting_northumerland]

John stopped in front of the front door. It wasn't too late, he reasoned-- they hadn't seen him yet. They could escape back into the cab, get Chinese, have a quiet night to themselves and not deal with the madness of Watson Christmas...

Behind them, the cab pulled away and turned off into traffic. Trapped.

"Well then," he said, steeling himself, and knocked.

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[punchmeitssubtext]

Beside him, Sherlock was fidgety and awkward, his breath white in the cold air. One of his gloved hands, however, found its way into John's--and he relaxed, just a little.

"Deep breaths," he murmured, as much to himself as to John.

Then the door swung open, and a short, smiling woman with John's eyes and a wealth of laugh lines stood staring up at them, her face a mixture of surprise and delight.

"John!" she exclaimed, moving forward to hug him.