A Study in Pondlock: A Christmas

Silent Night

Silent Night

-

"Sherlock, do you know what day today is?"

"Tuesday, December 24th."

"Yes, and what day is December 24th?"

---

"If it's one of your bizarre holidays, don't expect me to go guessing." He grumbled.

"Sherlock! It's Christmas Eve!"

"Oh. What significance does that have, again?"

"Sherlock. It's the night before Christmas. The night Santa Claus goes out to deliver all his presents, and the children stay up all night while "visions of sugar plums dance in their heads"-"

"If the children aren't asleep how are the visions of sugar plums dancing through their heads?" He interrupted.

"Oh, Sherlock, for goodness sakes, stop thinking of the technical aspect of everything. Just.. Relax. And do what people do on Christmas Eve."

"..what do they do?"

Amelia paused for a moment and thought. "We could bake cookies, and drink hot cocoa, and watch holiday movies."

"Alright, " He said standing up from the couch where he was sitting and walking towards the kitchen.

Amelia said a silent cheer and followed him, digging around in an old cookbook for the recipe.

"Pond Family Recipes," Sherlock read from the cover of the binder.

"It was my mum's," she sighed.

Sherlock smiled, "Christmas Sugar Cookies," he said, then pulled out an index card stained with things like vanilla and other ingredients from the recipe.

"Oh, I wasn't looking for that. I have that one memorized." She grinned, pulling out a different index card labeled "Christmas Cookie Icing", "This one, however, always slips my mind."

He grinned. His Amelia Pond, always such a madwoman.

Amelia went to the fridge for milk, pulling out a mug, sniffing it, then immediately putting it back in.

"How long has that been in there?" She asked.

"A month?"

"Oh Sherlock! That's repulsive! We'll have to go to the store and get some more."

"Can't you go by yourself?"

"Sherlock. It's Christmas Eve." She looked at him with sad, pleading eyes, which melted his heart.

"Oh, fine, Amelia."

At the store they found some milk and went to the cashier.

"You- you're that detective!"

"What?" Amelia said attempting to be casual, "Nawww,"

"I get that a lot," Sherlock lied.

"Oh. I apologize. You're probably not a nutter like him," the cashier laughed.

Amelia and Sherlock uncomfortably faked laughter, then paid for their milk and left.

"When are you going to let me dye your hair?" Amelia asked as he unlocked the door to their flat.

"We've been over this, Pond, Never."

"You're going to get recognized someday, Sherly, what will we do then?"

"That will never happen, Amelia," he assured before they went back to the kitchen and continued baking.

"Sherlock! Careful with the-"

He dropped the entire bag of flour in a bowl, causing it to explode in a white cloud of dust, covering Amelia and Sherlock from head to toe.

"-Flour"

They wipe the flour out of their eyes so that they could see, but decide they were better off just taking showers later than to try and clean themselves up now.

"Next is eggs," She told him.

"Eggs?"

"Yes, eggs. Are there any in the fridge?"

"Is that what normal people have in their fridge?"

"As opposed to human body parts, yes." She searched the fridge and sighed when she saw that there was, in fact, no eggs.

"We'll have to go next door and see if the Simmons have some they wouldn't mind to lend us."

"Like this?" He asked, referring to the flour.

"It's your fault."

They walked down the hallway a bit then knocked on the door.

Jillian Simmons, the youngest daughter, who was around 4, answered the door. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Mummy! There's ghosts!" She cried.

"Oh, no, no, sweetheart! It's Amelia! Amelia Pond!" She assured.

"Amelia's a ghost, Mummy!"

Ms. Simmons ran to the door, a single mum of three, Amelia and Sherlock would babysit for her from time to time.

"Hi." Sherlock said, with a puff of flour exiting while he spoke.

"Could we have an egg?" Amelia said, slightly embarrassed.

Ms. Simmons laughed, "Making Christmas cookies?"

"Yes." Sherlock replied quickly.

"Be right back," she smiled.

Arthur, Ms. Simmons' oldest son at age 14, walked past the door, took one look at them and shook his head.

"Arthur, did you say hello to the Ponds?" They could here his mum call.

"Hello, Ponds," he said unenthusiastically and continued back to his room.

Ms. Simmons shortly returned with an egg. "Merry Christmas you two."

They thanked her and returned to their flat.

They put their cookies in the oven and decided to start making the icing while they baked.

"We're out of sugar," Amelia sighed, "Back to the shop?"

Sherlock nodded, and they returned to the store. Luckily it was late, and they were the only ones there excepting the staff.

The cashier laughed at the sight of them.

"Don't ask," Sherlock said coldly.

Amelia hit him on the arm playfully.

When they opened the door to their flat again, black smoke poured into the hallway.

"Sherlock!" Amelia shouted as the fire alarms in the hallway went off, drenching them in water.

"How is this my fault?" He exclaimed.

"You disabled the fire alarms in our flat!"

"They were irritating!"

The firemen came, and luckily nothing was burnt except the cookies and Amelia's mother's cookbook, which was the only thing near enough to the oven.

Amelia sighed as she threw the charred remains of her mother's recipes in the trash.

"I'm sorry, Amelia."

"It's okay," she mumbled, now not only covered in flour, but wet flour.

Sherlock knew it wasn't, but he also knew he had until tomorrow morning to make it better.

---

Author's Note:

A long chapter for you today! Yes, the next update will be Christmas morning! Tell me if you have any songs for titles!

I quite like this one, even though it's a bit sad!

Don't forget to comment! I love talking with you!

-Kitty xxx