The Problem with Santa Claus

[smallhobbit]

Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters: Mycroft Holmes, John Watson
Rating: PG
Word Count: 600
Summary: Written for the Holiday prompt on older_not_dead "Mycroft has to deal with Santa Claus"

Mycroft Holmes didn’t usually have a problem with Santa Claus.  Large blow up versions he ignored and the living versions with dubious beards going ho-ho-ho were generally surrounded by small children, so he avoided them like the plague.  This particular Santa Claus, however, was fast asleep and snoring in the middle of the bed that he, and his partner, had planned to occupy in the next few minutes.

“John,” Mycroft called out, “we have a problem.”

John Watson put his head round the door and said “Oh!” and then he giggled.  “It could be worse,” he added.

“How, precisely?”

“He could have his reindeer with him.”

Mycroft treated the remark with the contempt he felt it deserved.  “Do you know anything about it?”

“I’m not all that surprised.  He looked absolutely shattered this morning, having spent the last two days hunting for the kidnappers.  I told him to go home, but in typical Greg Lestrade fashion he was adamant that he had to attend the party organised by the Police Benevolent Fund.  Said he didn’t want the kids to be disappointed.”

“That I can understand.  But why is he in our bed?”

“Maybe one of the elves brought him?”

“An elf that resembles my brother I imagine.”

The image of Sherlock in a green elf outfit was too much for John, who started giggling again.

“I see you are going to be of no assistance,” Mycroft said grumpily.

“We could try and wake him, although this might be difficult.  He hasn’t stirred all the time we’ve been standing here.  And he does need the sleep.”

“I don’t begrudge him the sleep.  It’s the fact that he’s occupying my bed that I object to.”

“There’s always the new bed you bought for the guest room.  This would be the perfect opportunity to try it out before your visitors do.  I’ve had various ideas of how we could make use of the brass headboard.”

Mycroft grinned at John.  “In which case ...”

*****

Mycroft had always been an early riser.  He knew others who, as they had progressed within the service, had taken the opportunity to start work later; but he continued to believe that whilst his underlings were quite capable of ensuring the smooth running of most matters of state, it did not hurt to continue to watch what was going on.  In addition he had long enjoyed the quiet of the house first thing in the morning as it allowed him time to think in peace before the stresses of the day had time to accumulate.

He was therefore rather surprised to discover that someone else was in his kitchen before him.  A man in a red suit seemed to be opening and closing his cupboards in a completely random fashion.

“I believe it is customary for you to look for your glass of sherry and mince pie by the fireplace,” he remarked.

“What!”  There was a crash as Lestrade dropped the tea caddy.  “Oh sorry Mycroft.  I was trying to make myself a cup of coffee before I went home.  I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.  But maybe I should make it for you.  I have the advantage of knowing where everything is.  Can I get you some breakfast while I’m about it?”

Mycroft was beating some eggs when John joined them.  “I thought I heard voices,” he said.

“I’m making scrambled eggs.  Do you want some?”

“Yes, please,” he replied and turning to Greg he added “And when we’ve eaten we’ll see about getting you a sleigh to take you home.”