Work Text:
I'm dreamin' tonight
Of a place I love
Even more than I usually do
-
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
Sherlock was curled up in an alleyway in Morocco, looking more like a homeless man than a Consulting Detective. It was Christmas Eve, but it did not feel like Christmas at all to him.
There wasn't a Christmas party at 221B that John forced him to have. There wasn't any of Mrs. Hudson's punch to be avoided. And there wasn't a particularly perfectly wrapped red package addressed to him, waiting to be opened.
No, there were no signs of Christmas about him at all. No fairy lights, or decorated trees, and there were no carolers!
He had never been much of a celebrator of Christmas, minus the use of the reference to the particular day when he had a thrilling murder case, but in spite of this, he found the lack of Christmas about him to be rather saddening.
Yes, Sherlock Holmes, the man who constantly spout that he didn't believe in sentiment, felt saddened that he was spending Christmas alone.
He knew exactly who he wished to be spending Christmas with; a woman with brown eyes, a sweet smile and a voice that haunted his Mind Palace. No matter how hard he tried to keep her at bay. It was no use; she was never going to leave.
He crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his hands beneath his armpits. He had tried so very hard to convince her that he wouldn't be any good for her, keeping her at arms length, bringing her down with his deductions, but still she held on to the belief that he was a good man and was capable of loving and being loved.
It wasn't until that day in the lab, when she had told him that she didn't count, that he came to realize how much she truly did mean to him. He had been horrified by the thought that she didn't see how important she truly was.
He knew that when he returned to London, (and he would return!), that there would be many things he would need to say to her, to tell her. He hoped that by next Christmas he would be there with her, so that neither one of them would have to spend it alone.
It was the image of her in that tight-fitting black dress (the very one that had so unfortunately brought about his cruel - and wrong - deductions) that he fell asleep with in his mind. She didn't exactly stay in the dress for very long though.
If only in my dreams
