"Mm. Even Mummy's given up. Sort of. For the best." Sherlock falls silent, looking down at John thoughtfully. Still too close, he thinks, probably, but neither of them seem to mind, save for how Sherlock is hyperaware of it all. What distance there is between them seems suffocating, far too little, a little too much; difficult to discern why either should be the case.

"She'd like you," he says thoughtfully. Said it before, but this time there's a point to it.

"You should come stay. Part of Christmas holidays, maybe. I'll show you the refrigerator."