All the evening really needed, to be quite perfect, was a pair of glasses of brandy, and Watson was carefully pouring those out now. The last few Christmases had been poor, for him, lonely and rather agonising, stopping by to see a friend or two but having to leave them to their families soon enough. This, though, this year... Watson liked Christmas, very much. This was already all he could want, and it hadn't even arrived yet.

"Here you are, my love." Watson settled himself on the couch, fitting himself in next to Holmes, and offered him the glass, along with a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Happy Christmas."