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John Watson-Holmes loves Christmas. He loves the cheesy jumpers, gloves and hats with novelty antlers. He loves setting up the tree and dressing it with tinsel, lights and baubles, he loves the choice between a star on top or an angel, although he does let Violet pick sometimes.
John loves Christmas.
He loves it so much that come the last day of November the Christmas boxes are out to get the bare essentials up on the first of December. He starts around the fire place with some tinsel and the stockings, a stag on one gorgeous red with white trim for Sherlock and a woolly cream Aran knit for himself, and a cute purple one with cream trim in a smaller size with a big V in red. John drapes coloured beads around the mirror, a sprig of tinsel on the skull – to brighten it up.
If John is alone he gets out the Christmas tree and hums to himself, putting the different parts into the base. If Sherlock is home, he tries to get his lanky genius to help, resigning himself to half-hearted sighs and constant correct of the instructions. If Violet is home at the time and not in school or off with her aunts or uncles, she helps dress the tree, usually ending in decorations clumped together with no plan and ignoring instruction. There are baubles from every country John has visted around the Christmas season. He had friends that would send sweet little Christmas owls in Christmas hats that could be clipped to the tree.
There are sprigs of mistletoe all over the flat in doorways, and regardless of who is under the plant, a small peck has to be exchanged. It makes some people very reticent to walk through doors with people they weren’t fond of.
When Violet runs under it with Mrs Hudson one day, Violet refuses to move until she gets a kiss on the cheek she is offering. Mrs Hudson gives her the kiss, and a hug, and also brings her some homemade shortbread later that afternoon for being such a cutie.
When John witnesses Mycroft cross under it passing Harry in the opposite direct he stands firm until one of the drama queens plants a kiss on the other. Mycroft walks off in search of Greg to remove the memory, while Harry swears profusely about Molly being late until Violet tells her in no uncertain terms that swearing means no presents. John is sure that Mrs Hudson is to thank for that attitude.
When Sherlock passes under the mistletoe with Violet, he bends down to her level and bundles her into his arms with so many kisses that she squeals in delight at how many she gets, then she squeals for John to come and help her through her giggles five minutes later. Sherlock loves getting kisses from Violet (as he confesses later that he is afraid of the day she will stop giving them freely).
When John finally manages to pass under the mistletoe with Sherlock, it is during a small Christmas party and John has just dropped a selection of drinks down and is retreating to the kitchen when he finds Sherlock’s arms around his waist holding him firm before he is swept backwards within the confines of Sherlock’s embrace, and Sherlock’s lips caress his own. The catcalls of their family dim out as Sherlock steals John’s breath and sets him back on his feet with a seductive look in his eyes that screams of promises for when their daughter is in bed and their flat is empty of guests.
Yes, John Watson-Holmes loves Christmas. He loves the family aspect; he loves the hosting; he loves the games and traditions that they put in place. John loves the grumbles of his beloved consultaing detective about green weeds meaning kissing and then following through to the letter.
Right now in John’s life, there is not a thing he doesn’t love about Christmas.