[COMPLETE] ??? ???? ?? ??? ??????「Sherlock」

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"A CHRISTMAS PARTY?" SHERLOCK HAD LOOKED UP FROM HIS test tubes and his microscope, the kitchen dimly lit by the light upon the slide he had been examining. John curiously peeked over at the woman, settled in the detective's chair while he was busy being distracted by his study of human hair follicles after death. The rosette did not even ask where he had gotten a patch of scalp from, for she already knew the answer. Sheepish, she adjusted in the leather seat, legs curled inward as she held her phone in one hand, her tea steaming upon the window sill, fogging it's surface. Snow fell fervorously outside. The doctor twisted around to exchange a look with his flatmate.

Chewing at her bottom lip, she picked at her thumbnail. "Well, Elliot mentioned something along the lines of a dinner somewhere downtown, and he invited you and John along," she explained carefully, trying to tread lightly around the subject of her significant other. Her eyes drifted off to the side, her attention travelling to her pinky, which she bent at an awkward angle. "It will be a formal event: we'll all be dressing up nicely, although I'm sure neither of you will have trouble with that. Molly will be there, and he even mentioned that John could bring Sarah with him, if he wanted to. He wants to try and get to know you guys better..."

Julia tucked some hair behind her ear and glanced off toward the two men, taking note of Sherlock's wrinkled nose and John's arched brow. Perhaps they hadn't understood her point? Suddenly, the detective turned and went back to examining his follicles. Whatever he found interesting about them was beyond her. Sherlock had a strange mind. "How dull. Here I thought you would actually be inviting us to something more fun, Julia."

"Well, that's the thing. After the dinner, they wanted somewhere big enough to host a little gathering sort of thing behind closed doors. You know, for presents and that sort of thing..." she continued, growing nervous. Laughing softly, she attempted to lighten the mood, although couldn't deny how she was beginning to grow bothered beneath John's gaze. "And when we were talking about it over lunch with Molly and Elliot, I may... have..."

"You offered up our flat?" the detective finished, glancing over his shoulder. Sherlock's words hung in the air, a cold drop of fear crawling down her spine. She swallowed thick within her throat, preparing to be scorned for doing such a thing without Sherlock's permission. She was ready for whatever he had to throw at her, about how dumb she was, or whatever he felt like spewing; however, Julia found that John was the one to respond.

"Well, I don't see why not," he piped up, both she and Sherlock both simultaneously uttering the word 'what?' in response. Her hopes grew high and she straightened up from where she had sank back into her friend's seat, staring at John with gleaming turquoise eyes. "When was the last time we dressed up and went out, Sherlock?"

"For me, that is every day, John," muttered the detective, adjusting the scope as he picked up the tweezers settled at his side.

"You know what I mean. Besides, it would be good for us to liven our holidays up instead of sitting around eating three-day-old pie and then going to bed."