A noticeable chill in the air and the bright decorations would have made it obvious that Christmas was soon. The only thing giving away the fact that this day was different from all others in December (before the 25th of course), was the prominent aroma of ginger wafting through the flat. Mrs. Hudson had always only baked gingerbread goods on Christmas morning as a tradition that the boys had gotten used to. Any regular day would assure them a breakfast of biscuits with jam and tea. But on this special day, the landlady would celebrate and advertise it proudly by inviting people over, putting a festive wreath on the door, placing various Christmas-themed items all over the place, and baking the living hell out of the groceries for guests.
A medium-sized Christmas tree stood in the middle of the living room, adorned with colorful lights, fragile ornaments, strings of beads, and red candy canes. Gifts had been piled under it and more would come later during the party that Mrs. Hudson and John had decided to host. The doctor had just gotten out of bed and put on a robe along with matching slippers that he had left in the flat before he moved out years ago. He yawned quietly before walking down the hall and wishing his landlady a happy Christmas as she finished decorating a batch of gingerbread cookies.
Sherlock sat up at the sound of another person in the room and his eyes immediately opened to see John holding up a cup of peppermint tea. He stood up from the couch and grabbed another cup for himself then thanked Mrs. Hudson for it. The detective looked down at the wrapped boxes under the pungent and overly-decorated tree feeling annoyed at the cheerful customs of his friends. He didn't actually mind Christmas as a holiday, he just didn't understand all of the concepts and felt that the various knick-knacks were over the top for a silly celebration.
"Happy Christmas." He muttered into his cup.
"You too, Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson replied.
John remained quiet, as he was drinking hot tea.
"So, opening the presents now?" Mrs. Hudson asked the two men.
"Sure, why not?" John shrugged.
"We would end up this way no matter what, so might as well get it out of the way now." Sherlock explained.
"Well Sourmouth, why don't you start?" John sassed.
Sherlock was surprised with his friend's tone at first, then neutrally bent down to reach for a box with his name inscribed on it. It was from Mrs. Hudson- a brand new microscope. He flashed her a sincere smile then thanked her and looked expectantly at his friends.
"Alright then. Mrs. Hudson, this is from me." John handed her a box.
The practically noiseless morning continued as they passed various packages around to each other from either themselves or from neighbors who had brought things over earlier that week. Only one more box remained for one of them, specifically for Sherlock. It was quite large and had the least amount of bows and patterns pasted onto it, proving that it must've been from a person who knew Sherlock well enough not to add too much to the box. The detective lifted the box, surprised at its heavy weight and felt something make his hands unsteady on the gift. He sat down and placed it into his lap, checking to see who it was from.
"Thank you, John, for this interesting present." Sherlock remarked.
"What? You haven't opened it yet." John furrowed his brows.
"It was hard to keep steady in my hands and heavier than anything else. I can predict that it's fairly interesting."
"Go on, open it." Mrs. Hudson smiled.
The top hadn't been sealed and came off easily, revealing something that was extremely personal to Sherlock. He sat silently with wide eyes as memories flooded through hid mind. A small Irish Setter puppy popped out of the wrapped cardboard box with holes in the back side. It had a bright shine its whiskey-coloured eyes and its coppery coat was made of wavy hairs rippling all over its body. This beautiful creature looked so much like his old dog from his childhood- Redbeard. It almost brought tears to the detective's eyes.
"SHERLOCK!" John shouted.
Sherlock turned to face John with his blank-faced façade.
"Thank you very much for this, John. How did you know what Redbeard looked like?"
"Your parents told me about him and then I made your brother show me a few pictures of him. Found that little puppy two days ago. I hid him in various places not far from here."
"What are you going to name it?" Mrs. Hudson cheered.
"Ah, but there's a significant difference between this dog and Redbeard. And that would be...?" Sherlock pointed out.
"That this puppy is a female." John finished.
"Yes. Any suggestions for her name?" The detective asked.
"She looks like a Penny." Mrs. Hudson commented, receiving a scoff of disapproval from Sherlock.
"I'll just choose something that automatically comes to my mind," The detective closed his and then announced, "Maire."
"Where did you get that from?" John asked.
"Irish/Gaelic female name meaning the wanted one." Sherlock answered.
"That's not what I asked."
"Maire is the name of someone of I once knew."
"Girlfriend? Family member? Someone you solved a case for?" John questioned.
Sherlock remained silent, directing his attention to his favourite gift and petting her while she curled up on his lap comfortably. John cleared his throat and got up to clean the mess of wrapping paper thrown about the hardwood floor. Mrs. Hudson went back to the kitchen awkwardly and worked on a batter for a spiced cake that would be served to the guests coming later that evening.
Through all of this commotion over John's thoughtful gift, they hadn't noticed a small package on top of the fireplace mantle. It had no label attached to the ribbon and was moderately hidden in the branches of ornamental pine over the mantle as well. Sherlock had remained sitting in his chair with the sleeping puppy in his lap and Mrs. Hudson kept herself busy in the kitchen, neither of them able to see the mysterious box. Though the contents would be revealed within the next twelve hours.
