I do not own Sherlock, this is the BBC version. Arthur Conan Doyle owns Sherlock Holmes and all the characters. BBC made the program and are making the money. I am but a fan of this pairing, and make no money from writing this. It has a very small spoiler from the last episode, basically the gun scene, I included this because I thought it was so funny x

Sorry about the Grammer.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Rating: T

There came a time when Sherlock would randomly pull out a gun, pull the trigger and shot rounds into a wall. Often enough John had the misfortune of finding this out the hard way, either being the victim of Sherlock's moaning or having a bullet almost hit him when Sherlock's aim became to careless. It was safe to say John Watson was sometimes very frightened when approaching their apartment door, enough sometimes that he would consider camping out for the night or begging Mrs Hudson to let him in, somehow his pride always got the better of him though.

Today was the 6th day into the first month, and John was still in debt to Sherlock after collapsing on his 'skull' just six days earlier in a drunken purist. Oddly enough the taller man had took the blow more lightly than John had expected, only sacrificing a day to express his feelings through the power of his violin. It was these days that made John wonder if Sherlock cared about anything at all.

Huddled up under the bus station, John stood in the cold night; buttons up on his waist coat and a beige scarf coiled around his neck (a Christmas present from Sherlock himself), he rubbed his gloved hands together and let out a puff of cold air shuddering, a plastic Tesco's bag swung from his arm and a bottle of sherry sat at the bottom of his feet; he would then bend down and pick it up before he stood onto the bus.

Glancing out the window, he watched the lights flush from peach to orange and knew that it was getting quite late. From what he gathered, Sherlock would be out until seven and John had all the intention of beating the Detective home. Concerned, John glanced down into the plastic bag and checked that the contents inside were okay, anything imperfect would ruin the surprise he had in stall for the detective.

It had been a very, very long day. Sherlock Holmes leaned against the wall, his tongue wetting his lips as he prepared himself a large moan at the shorter man. He had to admit that John was a very good listener and was thankful to have such a kind colleague, even if he didn't approve of his shooting habits. Sherlock thought for a moment about John, his heart quickened a pace but Sherlock quickly dismissed it, emotions led to being reckless, he had to expel l these thoughts. Glancing up, Sherlock began to climb the staircase occasionally bouncing a few steps; his hand slid into his pocket as he went for his keys. The moon spilled it's light through the window; muttering a silent 'thanks', Sherlock approached the door and pushed the key into the lock.

The first thing he did was fling his coat off and begin to unwind his scarf.

"You wouldn't believe what I've been through today, first some bloody boy brought his girlfriend a 'gold' ring, naturally I told her otherwise, the band was much light to be thick gold and much to slim to be of the thin kind, it looked half baked, the metal that is, possibly could still be in its pig iron form, what are you wearing?"

Sherlock paused as he finally glanced at John. John was stood there a blue party hat on his head and a present tucked beneath his arm. Sherlock blinked, was he seeing right?

"John?" He questioned, he was puzzled, why was there a cake on the table? And why was John standing there just looking at him like he was nuts. "What's all this?" He asked earning another look of disbelief. John blushed and ripped the party hat off his head.

"Um...Happy Birthday...?" John spoke obviously sounding unsure. Sherlock's eyes widened slightly but then he smiled briefly.

"I don't like chocolate cake "

As John's eyes rolled Sherlock smirked as the Ex-Medic rattled on about how troublesome it had been to get the cake especially as he often had wars with the till. Heart thudding, Sherlock wondered why John suddenly looked so attractive blushing. All this effort, all this for him. The bound present, the Sherry, the cake; licking his lips he suddenly thought of something he would prefer to taste.

"John?" Sherlock interrupted. John stopped talking for a moment to answer Sherlock.


"Shut up." With that Sherlock scooped down and kissed John, hands pinning down John's, dominating, owning, John submitted.

Half asleep, would of been longer :(