Possibly, I'm Insane

chocolamousse

It’s odd to John how familiar it’s become for him to spend Christmas at a grand estate. It’s all so beloved to him now as the place where so much perfect madness happened. He navigates its layout, including its multiple staircases. He recognizes the sounds of its various antique clocks around the hallways. But mostly he associates the house with the smells of Christmas: the freshness of the greenery, the spices from the mulled wine, the rich steam of decadent puddings. John would marvel at the Christmases he experiences here – but he marvels daily at Sherlock, so that’s nothing new.