Christmas Cake

[smallhobbit]

Fandom: Sherlock bbc
Rating: G
Characters:  John Watson, Inspector Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes
Word Count: 1,700
Summary: This is the last of my Christmas fics, written to say thank you to various friends who have helped me during the year.  This one is for vix_spes whose enthusiasm always encourages me.  As does her violin playing.  She asked for a fic where John and Lestrade bonded over Christmas preparations.

Standing in the supermarket John Watson looked at the list in his hand and tried to remember what it was he’d meant to add to it.  His phone pinged:

Jam

He sighed.  It wasn’t jam he was fairly sure, but since Sherlock wanted jam he’d go and find some.  He looked at the shelves deciding which flavour to choose.  He picked up a jar and put it in the basket.

Anything but strawberry

He took the jar out of the basket and put it back on the shelf.

“Bloody Sherlock,” he muttered.

“What?” a shopper further down the aisle exclaimed.

John looked round and saw to his amazement DI Lestrade looking at the dried fruit.  “It’s okay,” John grinned, “he’s not here.”

Lestrade breathed a sigh of relief.  John walked over to join him.  “What are you doing here?”

Lestrade grinned.  “You probably won’t believe it, but I’m buying the ingredients for a Christmas cake.  I made one a few years ago and ever since then it’s become a ritual; I take a day off work at the end of October and make a cake.”  He paused and looked slightly embarrassed.  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, no-one else knows.”

John smiled.  “That’s okay.  I’m not going to tell anyone.  Actually, it sounds like a great idea.  I wouldn’t mind having a go at a Christmas cake myself.  The problem would be ..”

“Sherlock,” Lestrade finished his sentence for him.  “Tell you what, why don’t I let you know when I’m taking my day off and you come round to my place and we’ll make two cakes.”

“That sounds like a great plan.  Would I be able to keep my cake at your flat until Christmas?  I think it would be safer that way.”

Lestrade nodded and they made their way together to the checkout, pausing to allow John to pick up the eggs that he’d remembered he needed.  Once outside they said goodbye to each other and John walked back to Baker Street with a bounce in his step.

***

A few weeks later John received a text:

My day off’s tomorrow.  You still up for it? GL

He looked blankly at the phone for several seconds, then grinned and texted back.

Definitely.  Do I need to bring anything? JW

No, just yourself.  GL

Sherlock looked up.  “Anything relevant?”

“Er, no.  I’m out tomorrow.”

“Fine.  I’m going to Barts for the day.  I wanted to see Lestrade but he’s not going to be around.  So I shall just carry on without him.”

“Nothing unusual there then.”

The following morning John waited until he heard Sherlock leave the flat before venturing out of his room.  He wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t somehow end up in accompanying Sherlock to Barts on the off chance that he would be of use.  He then hurried out of the flat in case Sherlock re-appeared having returned for something he had decided would be vital after all, on the basis that the something vital might well turn out to be him.

Much to his relief he reached Lestrade’s flat without text or phone call and was greeted by the smell of dried fruit as he was welcomed in.  The kitchen table was already covered in bowls and cake tins.  John felt slightly disappointed that Lestrade had begun without him, but then realised that he had only set things out in preparation.

Noting his expression Lestrade said “I hope you don’t mind, but I soaked the fruit overnight.  It needs a good few hours before it goes into the cake and I didn’t think there would be time today.”

“No, that’s fine,” John hastened to reassure him.

It soon became apparent to John that Lestrade’s baking skills were very good and that he must in fact bake more than once a year.  Once they’d got the two cakes in the oven and Lestrade had put the kettle on, John asked him about it.

Lestrade grinned.  “To be honest I find it a distraction.  It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve come home after a really bad case and found myself making a cake.”

Lestrade pushed a mug of tea over to John and they sat and chatted about various youthful Christmas memories.  After a while Lestrade said “We’ve just got time to nip out to the pub for lunch if you want.  Or you can have some bread and cheese here if you prefer.”

“Bread and cheese will be fine if you don’t mind.  And I can enjoy the smell of the cooking cakes.”  John waved vaguely in the direction of the oven.

“You do realise that the cakes will still need marzipanning and icing and that can’t be done today?” Lestrade remarked later, as he cleared the remains of the bread off the table.  “You’d be welcome to come back to help if you’d like to.”

“Yes, thank you.  I would indeed,” John replied.  He wasn’t going to say anything more, but he hoped Lestrade understood that the day had meant more to him than just making a Christmas cake.

“It’s a date then,” Lestrade said.  John smiled, he had understood.

***

For the next few weeks John hardly saw Lestrade.  He provided a few days of locum cover for Sarah, helping out in flu clinics and some holiday cover.  He knew from Sherlock that Lestrade had been fully occupied with some gang land killings, and he was surprised at how disappointed he was that they hadn’t been able to meet up.  He was walking back to Baker Street from the surgery when he received a text:

Have a couple of hours free this evening.  Do you want to marzipan your cake? GL

John phoned Lestrade immediately.  “Hi.  I’ve got your text.  What time’s suitable?”

“Come as soon as you can.  I’ve got to be back for ten tonight.”

“Right, I’m on my way.”

When John walked into Lestrade’s flat the first thing he noticed was a chocolate Advent calendar hanging on the wall.  Curious, he wandered across to look at it.

“Go on then,” said the inspector.  “Make a clever comment.”

“Not at all,” John laughed.  “I was just checking that you hadn’t eaten more chocolates than you were permitted!  I almost wish I had one.”

“Actually,” Lestrade felt himself starting to blush.  “I’ve got a spare one if you would like it.”

He passed the calendar over and John proceeded to open the windows to bring himself up to date, sharing the chocolates between the two of them.

“Have you eaten?” Lestrade then asked.  “Apart from chocolate I mean.”

“I grabbed a sandwich at lunchtime.  I’ll make myself something when I get back.”

“I can shove a couple of potatoes in the microwave to bake whilst we marzipan the cakes if you like.”

“Thank you.  That would be nice.”

The marzipanned cakes had been put back in their tins and they were eating their baked potatoes when Lestrade suddenly said, “I was wondering,” and then stopped.

John looked up.  “Go on.  What were you wondering?”

“There’s an annual concert held on behalf of the Police Benevolent Fund.  The first half they have excerpts from The Messiah and then the second half there are carols and the audience can join in if they want.  I just thought that if you’d like you could come here in the afternoon (I’ve got the day off) and we could ice the cakes and then you could come to the concert with me in the evening.  But it’s probably not your thing at all and I shouldn’t have asked you.”

Lestrade looked down at the table as he said the last few words.  There was a pause and he decided that he’d completely overstepped the mark.  He looked up to see that John was grinning broadly.

“Sorry, I should have said something.  I’ve been wanting to go to something like that this year; I didn’t want to go by myself and there’s no way Sherlock would go, so yes, I would very much like to come to the concert with you.”

“Excellent.  I’ll get two tickets then.  And I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work now.”

The two of them walked to the tube station in companionable silence and then went off in different directions, John trying to decide where to hide his Advent calendar so Sherlock couldn’t eat the chocolates.

***

The day after the concert it didn’t take a consulting detective to work out that John had had a good time, from the way he was singing carols whilst sorting out his laundry.  Sherlock did find it slightly upsetting when he had moved onto singing the Hallelujah Chorus as he threw out the remains of one of his experiments from the back of the fridge but quickly realised that even if he were to sulk it wasn’t going to subdue his flatmate’s good mood.

However, the following morning found John sadly doodling pictures of Christmas trees instead of writing up his blog and Sherlock decided that he should make use of his powers of observation and actually do something to cheer him up.  He picked up his phone.

“Now is not a good time, Sherlock,” Lestrade grumped in answer.

“Now is the perfect time.  You are invited to spend Christmas Day at 221B Baker Street.  I shall unfortunately not be here, but John would appreciate your company.”

There was the sound of paper covered in doodled Christmas trees falling to the ground.

“You can bring the Christmas cake round then.”

Sherlock heard a stereo exclamation of “what”, in one ear from his phone, in the other from across the room.

“And if you’re wondering what to get him for Christmas, he needs a decent scarf.  Mycroft has arranged for me to give him gloves since I accidentally boiled his last pair.”

With that Sherlock rang off and looked at John.  “So now instead of just looking longingly at the box of decorations Mrs Hudson has kindly provided, you might as well start putting them up.”

As John went to open the box he heard his phone ping.

You okay with this? GL

Of course.  No point arguing with Sherlock.  Even if I wanted to.  Which I don’t.  JW