"Mm," he murmurs, bringing his drink to his lips. "Mycroft has invited us to dinner. Did I neglect to tell you?" he asks, genuinely unsure if he had or not. It's just as likely that he never did quite get around to saying anything to Watson about it. "That is not until later in the evening, so we could still lay about for a good portion of the day."

For no reason he can name, he's nervous now that Watson would object to dinner with Mycroft, when he knows he will do no such thing. Perhaps it's just that this would mean a great deal to Holmes.

"I am looking forward to it, actually," he admits, looking down into his glass. "To have my family all together for Christmas. I have not had that in quite a while. Not since I met you, certainly."