Ping.
‘Miss me?’
Ping.
‘Dont. Im soon gonna gift my presence to you.’
Ping.
‘Merry Christmas, fam! Cheer and joy to your morose existence.’
“That’s the third ping in a matter of half an hour,”John commented as he saw Sherlock pocket his phone just after reading the notifications.
“That’s because it is the third ping in the matter of half an hour,” Sherlock replied curtly.
“Sherlock, let me warn you not to be sassy with me. Rosie cried till the sun rose. My patience is running severely low right now,” John warned, looking incredibly terse.
“She seems fine to me,” Sherlock said pointed towards the sleeping infant in her portable bassinet.
“Why don’t you deduce it, smartass,” John shot back.
Sherlock let out a deep sigh. He did have to look into this matter himself. They were having their moment of peace after the mess with Magnussen. Now with Rosie here… maybe he’d have to do another disappearing act. He couldn’t put them in trou--
Ping.
‘Hey, Sherlock. I’m in London for a couple of days. So it’s your apartment this time. See you. ~HG’
“NO!”
“Sherlock--”
“We are in severe trouble,” SHerlock shouted, grabbing the first thing that he could grab which happened to be his violin bow, when a crisp voice floated up.
“Too late, cousin. I’ve already brought everything.”
“Damn! Every freaking time,” Sherlock cursed under his breath.
“Sherlock, what the matter?” John asked, positioning his body to shield Rosie. “Should I?” He motioned his head towards the gun that was on the mantle.
“No, that won’t be required,” Sherlock said as a petite brunette came into the living room.
“Sherlock, whoa. You sure are rocking the lie-in look with your PJs and dirty robe,” Hermione said as she placed the shopping bags on the floor.
“Hermione, immaculate as usual,” Sherlock said taking her in.
Hermione gave a brilliant smile and turned towards John, “Hermione Granger, Sherlock’s cousin from his mum’s side,” she introduced herself, extending a glove covered hand for a handshake.
“Hi, I’m John, I am--”
“I’ll take an offence if you’d have to introduce yourself, Doctor Watson,” Hermione replied with a brilliant smile.
A couple of people in uniform came into the living room soon after.
“What is this?” Sherlock asked looked pointedly at Hermione.
“I would have thought you were going rusty…” Hermione trailed off. “Well, to explain it to Doctor Watson, my cousin has a messy bachelor pad. So I needed professionals to get the house cleaned for Christmas. And before you start protesting,” Hermione began quickly, “Mrs Hudson approves.”
“Please call me John,” John offered with a warm smile.
“Likewise. Call me Hermione.”
“If we’ve gotten the familiarizing out of the way…” Sherlock began.
“I knew you’d complain about the cleaning. It’s like this is your Dragon hoard.” Cue an exchange of violent glares. “Don’t worry, captain. Your ship will undergo cleaning not makeover. Even I understand the importance of the chaotic order. I have a case for you if that could get you into the Christmas cheer.”
“Oh, you’ve said it,” John commented as Sherlock took to his chair ready to hear his cousin out.
The police had finally arrived at the scene. For all their worthlessness, the Scotland Yard does manage to arrive right when he wants them too. There were some other people too. And so he had sent his cousin home early for the unnecessary and unwanted festivities preparations.
All he had wanted was to meet her elusive fiance. He didn't tell her to plan forth a party.
His mind on those awkward people at the crime scene again. How had they managed to vanish right around this corner… he'll have to look deeper into this. They had stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd but were so confident. He'd like to...devote a little time on them when there was the moan message alert.
‘You should go home, detective. You might like what you see.’
Another moan message alert.
‘Or not.’
“Where’s Sherlock? The case got over in the morning and it's evening now,” John asked Hermione who had accompanied Sherlock that morning.
“He told me he's finishing up a some loose ends. Since I got this apartment cleared up, I have been told to be the graceful host,” Hermione explained as she served some snacks.
“Sounds just like him,” John laughed. Soon Mary walked in with Molly and Mrs Hudson.
“I believe you haven’t met my wife,” John began after greeting Mary with a sweet kiss under the mistletoe. “Mary, this is Hermione, Sherlock’s cousin. Hermione, Mary.”
“It feels really good to finally put a face to the names. I’ve heard so much about you all from Mycroft that I had to meet you.”
“Mycroft? Really?” John asked incredulously.
“Well.. if he mentions you twice in a span of one day it does mean I’ve heard a lot about you,” Hermione explained with a smile.
Molly greeted Hermione with a smile. The two young women hit off like houses on fire. Apparently, they had meet each other when Hermione had visited St. Bart.
Soon, Lestrade came in. John introduced him to Hermione as well.
Everyone were pretty surprised to meet Sherlock's normal cousin. She was a friendly person with a dry humour and sharp as tack wit.
Everyone was enjoying the finger snacks that Hermione's fiance had sent up saying he'd join them
“What made you host this Christmas party in Sherlock's den?” Mary asked Hermione with a laugh.
“It wasn't in the plan. He missed my engagement party so he invited my fiance and I to his Christmas party and I decided to hijack it.”
“We appreciate it. The apartment has never looked this beautiful, Hermione dear,” Mrs Hudson told Hermione with a cheerful smile. “I am really glad that you made the effort. And I can't thank your fiance enough. He's been slaving at the stove since the afternoon.”
“He does have a passion for cooking,” Hermione said fondly.
“Cookies for everyone,” shouted Jim freaking Moriarty from the door holding a tray of delicious looking cookies wearing a ridiculous apron which said 'Kiss The Chef's.
“Ah, Jim, right on time,” Hermione exclaimed as she went to him.
The room fell silent. It looked as if someone had shouted “Freeze!” at them. Except for Mrs Hudson. She was sporting a wide, fond smile.
“I would like to get the rest of my payment now, if you don't mind,” Jim said with a smirk.
Hermione kissed him full on the mouth. The room fell into a graveyard silence. A silence that was heavy with gloom and the pending doom.
Hermione turned to look at all of them, “Everyone, this is my fiance, James. But he likes to be called Jim. Jim, this is--- why is everyone sporting such ominous looks?”
She turned towards her fiance, “What have you done to these good people?”
Jim looked so happy to be caught but for the sake of Hermione, he muttered a slow “Oops,” and gave a shrug.
“He fake dated me and pretended to be gay!” Sweet Molly was the first to burst the terse atmosphere.
“Et tu, Molly?” Jim looked at him with open mouth, clutching his heart as dramatically as possible with a cookie tray in hand.
“You pretended to be gay and went out with me!” Molly repeated angrily this time.
“But I was a good pretend boyfriend,” Jim wriggled his brow at Molly.
Hermione punched his arm in retaliation.
“Pretend,” Jim winched. “I'm a better fiance.”
“He put a bomb jacket on me and had a team of snipers aimed at me,” John seethed.
“He hired me as a sniper to be at the pool. But I didn't aim,” Mary added with a small shrug.
Jim raised his tray at her in salutation.
“He had put bomb jackets on people and gave Sherlock riddles to solve. An old woman failed to adhere to his conditions and he blew up a portion of a building. He was also going to blow up a passenger airplane. Not to forget he stole the Crown!” Lestrade's voice rose and rose with every word he uttered ending with a shout.
Mrs Hudson simply stared on, her mouth falling open on realising exactly who was standing in front of her. “Your men kept me hostage!”
Hermione turns to Jim after seeing everyone's face. "What have you done?" She whispered in dismay.
"Absolutely nothing. They imagined everything."
"Jim..."
"I didn't blow up or threaten any innocent."
"Jim..."
"The plane was going to be filled with dead people either ways..."
"James!"
"I didn't know he'd jump off the building, I mean who does that! Sherlock is crazy.”
“James!” Her eyes widened, “Oh my God. When you said… you were… oh my God. I should have guessed better.”
“Love, I was not honest with you. Please don't blame yourself.”
Hermione shook her head in disbelief.
Suddenly, Hermione was bodily picked up and Sherlock positioned himself right in front of her.
“Stand back,” Sherlock snarled in Jim's face as he drew his arm back to punch Jim Moriarty.
“I must say, he's a lousy human but a good brother to you,” Jim said as he nursed a black eye, currently looked over by Hermione.
“We are having a severely long talk after this,” Hermione told Jim pointing a finger at him.
“Don't call off the wedding. The honeymoon suite is already paid for…”
Sherlock, who was made to drink water by Mary, broke his glass of water at that.
Hermione rushed to his aid with John jumping to get the first aid kit. John took to removing the embedded shards of glass from his palm while Hermione pulled out some ointments from her purse and started applying them on the gauges, wrapping them around the injured hand.
“That boy needs anger management therapy,” Jim quipped.
“You are not going to annoy Sherlock. Or anyone Sherlock knows,” Hermione tells him finally.
“Love, I was bored!” Jim exclaimed.
“You can steal the crown if you're bored. You can't annoy my brother.” Hermione gave her ultimatum.
“Fine, fine. I understand relationship and marriage changes a man. I'll gladly accept them if you're still agreeing to be my wife…”
“You are making me question why I agreed to marry you!” Hermione seethed.
“I'm good in bed,” Jim winked at her.
Sherlock clenched his hand and reopened his wound again. Hermione tutted and got to work on it immediately.
Greg needed a very stiff drink but for now the eggnog would do.
“No one needed that information, James!” Hermione huffed.
“But you are not denying it,” Jim said with a wriggle of his brows and a grin.
Hermione blushed slightly as she replied, “It's true but no one other than us needed to know it.”
Jim got up from his seat and kissed her temple, "Sorry, love.”
And managed to throw a wink at Sherlock who was now being looked after by John. More like being held immobile by the good doctor.
Hermione gave a mirthless laugh, “But you are not a least bit sorry.”
Jim gave a shark like grin, “True.” He turned his fiancee to face him, “But I don't like you angry with me.”
“You do realize you have traumatised the people who are here,” Hermione said, not looking amused at all.
“Traumatized is such a strong word,” Jim said, flippantly.
Hermione took a step back and him the looks.
Jim grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand, trying to calm her. They spent a moment just starting at each other, all the while Jim inched closer to her.
Hermione blushed and rubbed her neck with her free hand awkwardly.
It was then that Sherlock roared at Hermione.
“He is abusing you! And you are just playing along with this facade of being in a happy relationship! What is he threatening you with? Me? Your parents? My parents? Tell me NOW!”
Sherlock shoots out of his seat and grabs the gun that's kept on the mantle as a safety measure. It happens so fast that nobody makes a move to stop the angry detective. He welds himself between Hermione and Jim and points the firearm at Jim, he shouting, “Get out!”
Hermione took a bare moment before she started going no, no, no like the No-No internet cat. It would been funny had John not been more worried about his best friend having a panic attack.
“It's a hickey, Sherlock,” Mary said, poor woman taking all the drama in like it's an everyday haptance.
Greg, Molly and Mrs Hudson formed a trio of audience watching a soap reach its denouement.
“What?” Sherlock exclaimed without looking away from Jim or lowering the gun.
Hermione was blushing like a tomato now, “Love bite. It's a love bite.”
“Why would… no. You're lying,” Sherlock was still in denial.
Jim smirked, “I am her fiance. Of course, she'll have love bites. ” He pulled his collar down to his collarbone, displaying a mouth shaped bruise, “This is what she did to me. It's what people do in the moment of high passion given they consented to it first. Because you're essentially marking someone. It's a big step in a relationship.”
Sherlock was furious. He could not believe what he was hearing. Yes, his deductions had reached the same conclusion that Jim had verbalised but this couldn't be.
Sherlock snarled at Hermione, “How can you be so naive about this?!”
“He has the most beautiful library and he's a gentleman. Can match his wits with me. So sue me,” Hermione replied in a monotone.
“He blow up a floors of a residential building by attaching a bomb jacket to an old woman because she didn't abide by the rule HE had SET!” Sherlock glared at Hermione.
But what shocked him was the ugly scowl that had formed on his sister's face. As if she didn't...condemn it. Was she in… His mind was working overtime and the conclusion he came to made him want to sit down.
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She calmed herself and began, “There are things you don't understand, Sherlock. There are things you need to do to appease the wronged.”
“Jim killed---”
“Controlled explosion. It's elementary, dear Sherlock. But you can't see it because you do not have the access to all the puzzle pieces. To make you understand, it was meant to be. Otherwise, there would have been a fallout whose consequences would have been a price to hard to pay.”
“Mycroft knew this…” Sherlock said as he tried to piece information together from the tidbits that Hermione had thrown him, “then why did he pretend to ask for my help?”
“I'm a step higher than Mycroft in the government,” Hermione replied.
Sherlock lowered his gun.
John whistled.
“Can we start eating now? I'm hungry and I can attest to the fact that I make the bestest roast on this side of London,” Jim stated proudly.
So Mary was busy feeding a fussy Rosie and the rest of the party ended the meal in silence. Hermione had insisted them to not let the food go waste just because of Jim's antics. So they all ate but the mirth and joy had drained away.
Lestrade suspected these people needed a new dictionary because antics sure as hell didn't mean blowing people up. Though stealing the Crown does come under 'antics’. If you considered it being an antic of a humongous scale.
John might not be able to make drastic crime solving deductions but it was pretty plain to see Sherlock getting irked by Jim's closeness to his cousin.
Jim hadn't let go of Hermione- sitting next to her or in rare chances, getting her to sit on his lap, random kisses and loving back to front hugs, those intentional touches to her bare skin… Sherlock was fuming badly. John could only wait and watch. This was indeed turning out to be a Christmas dinner to remember.
“We should be leaving,” Hermione said as the couple sipped on their mulled cider.
Reaching the dessert section of the meal had been a genuine struggle. Everyone had just had enough to not offend the host and the situation demanded some stiff drinks. But to maintain the holiday spirit, everyone was gorging on eggnog with extra kick.
“Hermione,” Sherlock butt in.
“I know you want to have a long talk and trust me, we need that talk. But not tonight. Before you suggest, tomorrow, that's a no too. Tomorrow is Christmas and I want to have a lie in,” she quickly turns to face her fiance, “one more innuendo and dog house it is.”
Jim snapped his mouth shut with an audible clash of teeth.
Sherlock seething, speaking through his clenched teeth, “How can you be so trusting in the face of such falsitude?”
“Really, Sherlock? Are you calling me stupid?” Hermione looked at him with a scowl.
“Naive! That's what you are. You're buying the lies that he's shamelessly selling!” Sherlock shouted in her face.
Molly nervously worried at her fingers at the unpleasant situation that had developed. She shouldn't have spoken out loud. Greg patted Molly's arm assuringly.
'Not your fault,’ he mouthed at her.
'Thank you,’ she mouthed back.
“You are Hermione Jean Granger!” Mary exclaimed all of a sudden.
Everyone turned to look at Mary.
“I can't believe this…” Mary whispered. “It was you. You…” Mary leaned back heavily into her seat clutching Rosie to her heart. “Thank you.”
“It was my duty,” Hermione replied with a soft smile.
“No, it wasn't. But you did it anyway.” Mary smiled.
Sherlock was busy scrutinizing Mary while Hermione sneakily arranged her bag and other things that were lying around. It had been a long day.
The sound of movement behind him made Sherlock turn around only to see a laser dot pointed right on his heart.
Greg stood up and put himself in front of Molly as he tried to think of how to defuse the situation.
John seemed to pull out a gun from thin air and was pointing it at Jim.
Hermione lifted her head from looking into her purse and saw the red dot.
“You spent too much time with the Twins,” Hermione said with a dismayed shake of her head.
“Not enough you mean,” Jim replied, his hands in the air like someone was pointing a gun at... Oh right. John was still pointing the gun at him. The dot was no longer pointed at Sherlock.
She rolled her eyes and requested John to put the gun down. Sherlock turned to John, placing his hand on the gun to lower it.
“If anyone's going to shut him up, it's me,” Hermione declared.
“My lips are here,” Jim said as he puckered his lips.
Hermione glared at him. “Couch.”
She then zipped her purse and slammed it into Jim's side.
“Ouchie.”
And the red dot moved along with the motion of his hand as he rubbed his abused rib.
“Sorry, I could not resist. It was too funny,” Jim said as he pulled out a laser pointer. “Oh, you know a fun fact. At the pool, Mary was the only one armed. Everyone else had this,” Jim dangled the laser pointer in front of Sherlock.
Hermione grabbed Jim's hand. “We should be off now. It is quite late and after this mess of a party, I doubt I'll leave my hidey-hole for quite some time now.”
“Hermione…”
“Sherlock, there is a world out there that you don't know about. And I am one of those who's shaping it. Whatever Jim did, it was a controlled incident. We needed to needle out the earthworm with a little digging. We left the extermination to you. I'll tell you everything later.”
“You can make me understand now,” Sherlock said.
“Really? Now?”
“Yes. Everyone else was just leaving…” Sherlock insinuates.
Nobody moves a muscle.
Hermione hands sherlock a business card, “Come here after Boxing day. We'll have a nice talk.”
Sherlock looks at the card and opens his mouth to ask his cousin some more question. But she was gone along with her fiance.
“They left,” John explains.
“As should we,” Greg says. “The party was entertaining and the food was good. But when you put in the context, it boggles my mind.”
“I never thought Jim can make good cookies,” Molly said as she lifted her take home gift package of cookies.
“He's like an onion. He's got layers,” Mary added with a laugh.
Sherlock silently flipped the card in his fingers.
The next day, Sherlock went over to John's house at 6 in the morning to pace loudly and rant even more loudly.
But Mary and John ended up entertaining him just because Sherlock was pacing furiously with Rosie in his arms and that had put the kid straight to sleep.
“Hermione is so stupid that it's borderline stupid!” Sherlock whisper yelled. “How could she be so stupid. How dare he even touch her! Hickeys! Does she not realize he's a murderer, a criminal of the highest kind. The one who sells his service of mayhem!”
“He's retired,” Mary said with a yawn. The married couple sat on the couch watching the ongoings with barely opened eyes, dozing with head on each other's shoulder.
“He still is the killer of innocent people!”
“Not so innocent,” Mary said as John said, “He blew up a deaf old woman.”
“If you just knew what they had caused…” Mary gives a laugh. “Hermione Granger...your cousin isn't a threat to anyone who doesn't deserve it but innocent is not what I'd call her.”
“What do you mean?” Sherlock and John ask at the same time.
“It's not Jim Moriarty you should worry about. Nobody worries about the pawn, Sherlock. It's the Queen that everyone should be wary of. You should worry about Hermione Jean Granger. Trust my word, she's changing the world around her.”
“You're not telling us a lot of things, love,” John shot her an incredulous look.
“You'll find out soon,” and she promptly fell asleep.
John sighed, “Well, there's no waking her up now. Guess, you'll have to wait for the appointment.”
Sherlock shot him a disbelieving look.
'Looks like I underestimated…’