A Christmas Miracle: Johnlock"Happy Christmas, Sherlock! Look, Father Christmas came!" Mycroft was bouncing on the edge of Sherlock's bed, beaming with excitement. "I bet I got that set of night vision goggles!"More Like This
"Hey! I was the one who wanted those!"
"Too bad! They're all mine!" Mycroft's voice grew deeper, and his face began to change into another all-too-familiar face.
"Moriarty? How'd you do that?" Sherlock squeaked.
"I owe you a cookie, Sherlock,"
"Sherlock, wake up! You're yelling in your sleep again!" John's voice roused Sherlock from his sleep. He sat up, spreading his long arms above him, yawning loudly. His pajama bottoms had little penguins on them. Sherlock wondered why Mycroft had given him the trousers, but they were flannel, and very warm. Sherlock's mind was devoid of all emotions, a clear slate, as usual. Today's Christmas, he realized. No wonder he had dreamt so festively. But Moriarty refused to leave his dreams, always present in one way or another. He had stopped shooting him