The Holmes Brothers

Sitangna took out the perfume and, after asking everyone's permission, popped off the cap and sprayed it twice into the air.

The first scent to reach their noses was the sweet, juicy fragrance of pear. It didn't smell like synthetic fragrance, but more like a real green pear, with a subtle, natural sweetness. The top note also seemed to contain a hint of fresh bergamot.

Next came the scent of flowers. None of them were very familiar with flowers from the East, so they all tried to guess what it was. Only Sherlock and Sitangna knew it was white peony.

In the book she hadn't finished reading was a pressed-flower bookmark she had made herself. The flower had been a fallen bud she had picked up at a Chinatown flower shop, from the shopkeeper's lone plant.

The floral heart note was more than a single scent. It also had the downy aroma of a silver needle tea, as well as the medicinal scent of aged white peony. The flower, tea, and medicinal notes gradually emerged, recreating the sweetness of patchouli but with a crisper freshness.

What else was there?

Sitangna tilted her head slightly. As the fragrance dispersed and was warmed by the fireplace, it clung firmly to everyone who passed through it. It smelled even better once it had faded a little. Apparently, the base note had a woody scent.

The woody scent was used to balance the sweetness of the flowers and fruit, adding depth and staying power to the fragrance.

"What did you put in the base note? I can't make it out. It's a bit like temple incense," Sitangna asked Sherlock.

"Himalayan cedarwood essential oil." The shop hadn't carried it, but he had insisted on adding it. After he threw down some cash, the shop had it custom-made and delivered.

"Perfumes that combine flowers and fruit can get cloying, so they need wood to tone down the sweetness. The dry cedarwood also keeps the drydown from being too cold and sharp, and the combination adds warmth and a skin-like quality."

"Cedarwood and musk are the main notes in a lot of perfumes made to smell like natural body scent." Crunch, crunch. Sherlock forked up a huge piece of candied apple and bit into it with a crisp snap. "But musk doesn't suit you."

"That sounds very high-end, but it really does smell lovely. It was a thoughtful gift, and I like it very much. Thank you, great detective."

Sitangna happily waved the perfume in her hand. The decorative chain on the bottle was quite pretty too.

"Oh my, what shop did you buy this perfume from? It feels exactly like Sitangna herself. Give me the address, quick. I want to go find one for myself too."

It was the first time Emily had so directly experienced how a scent could capture a person, and she wanted one too. Good friends had to use similar things for everything.

"Darling, would you like one? This does smell lovely. We could buy a bottle in a scent you like."

Watson asked Janet, recalling that she didn't seem to use perfume often and preferred scented products. Janet readily agreed; it would be nice to change scents once in a while.

"It's a custom perfume shop in the East Business District. It's the only one around there, and the shop is huge. If you can't find it, go to the hospital and get your eyes treated first."

Sherlock showed Watson a promotional picture. "I blended Sitangna's myself, so you can't buy the same one. The ready-made perfumes the shop's perfumers make are good too, or you could try blending your own."

"No wonder. It smells like a modified version of Miss Dior to me." That was the scent Sitangna had liked best before.

"Also, if you take that chain off, you'll find it's a necklace. You like it so much that you've touched the diamond at least seven times since you got the gift. Why don't you try taking it off?"

Seeing that she was still foolishly fingering the necklace, Sherlock couldn't help speaking up.

"You really have stolen a lot of things from me." Mycroft folded his arms and looked at Sherlock in exasperation. The smile on the guy's face looked punchable no matter how he looked at it.

"You don't use it anyway. Giving it to me is the best way to make use of it." Sherlock never felt guilty, and he was unapologetically confident even when he had no grounds to be.

"This stone is a full two carats, and it's worth-forget it. Giving it to Sitangna is fine too. That way you won't steal something more valuable."

The blue diamond was of ordinary quality, but it was still worth around 250,000 euros. Its greenish-blue tint was also the reason he had acquired it in the first place.

It had been intended for Sherlock anyway, so giving it to his lover was the same.

Mycroft picked up the champagne Sherlock had topped up for him and took a sip. His calm gaze was unmistakably full of indulgence.

"So this is a real diamond? Blue diamonds are expensive, aren't they? Mycroft, I only have this box to put it in for now, but let me give it back to you."

Sitangna had just unfolded the necklace, ready to admire its fire, but at those words she immediately put it away and returned it to the perfume box. Stealing things to give as gifts-Sherlock really was too much.

"Give it back? He already said it was for you."

Sherlock snatched the box from Sitangna, took out the necklace, slipped it around her neck, and fastened it in one smooth motion. Just like that, a sparkling diamond necklace adorned her neck.

"All right, I'll accept it, then. Thank you, both of you." Sitangna excitedly lifted the diamond at her neck and examined it under the chandelier. Its pale-blue gradations looked just like a green aurora passing through a translucent icicle.

Sitangna held the two-carat blue diamond between her fingers, its brilliant light reflected in her eyes. She had never cared much for things like diamonds, whose value had been hyped up by capitalists, though she occasionally marveled at how beautiful sparkling things really were.

But now that she owned one, she suddenly understood why the rich were so enamored of jewels.

Perhaps it really was as the advertisement said: the essence of jewelry was to let mortals briefly tame a supernova and wear civilization's longing for eternity as a restrained declaration.

"This one's quality isn't good enough. It's too pale. Nana, I'll give you a big diamond ring with full color saturation for your birthday!"

Emily had drunk a little too much that night. She had been toasting her elders throughout the party, and although she hadn't taken much with each sip, there were simply too many people in the family.

She could hold her liquor fairly well, but the wind had hit her when she came out, and now the alcohol was gradually going to her head.

She staggered over to Sitangna, clamoring to go upstairs and sleep with her. Seeing that it was about time, Mycroft said goodbye to everyone and prepared to leave, and Sherlock went down to see him off.

The Holmes brothers stood under the little awning of the shop by the entrance to shelter from the snow pellets, each smoking a cigarette. The air around them grew hazy with smoke.

"Ugh, low tar. Can you bring something stronger next time?" Sherlock had been trying to quit nicotine recently and had asked everyone to help him throw out his entire stash.

Lately, boredom had brought his cravings back, but he had searched the entire apartment and couldn't find the slightest bit. He had howled like mad early that morning and had his ear twisted by Watson for disturbing Sitangna's sleep.

"A couple of puffs for the taste is enough. You were the one who said you wanted to quit." Nicotine wasn't the only thing Sherlock had been trying to give up. Mycroft had gone to great lengths to get him to switch to patches; those things would damage his body.

It was cold, and the cigarettes soon burned down. A clock somewhere nearby began to chime very loudly. Apparently, a new day had begun.

Mycroft brushed the snow pellets off himself and walked toward the private car waiting nearby.

"Merry Christmas, Sherlock."

"Merry Christmas, Mycroft."