"If we did this decently," Watson chuckled, "I would have to find some way to ensure your identity as well.  I couldn't have some imposter."

He could feel Holmes tracing over his skin, could feel the shape of the letters for what they were, and for some reason it delighted him, utterly.  It was so small a gesture, and so touching.

"I only hope you don't find this unexpected domestic lifestyle a disappointment," Watson murmured.  "Would you like your presents -- well, your other presents," he laughed, "would you like them now, as it is nearly Christmas already, or will you wait until morning?"