A/N Just a little something that popped into my head. Hope you enjoy.

John glared at his frozen computer screen and in a burst of frustration picked up the mouse only to slam it back down on the desk. He didn't notice someone was stood in the doorway.

"What did it do to you?" Lestrade's voice made John jump slightly.

John sighed and explained, "Bloody thing keeps crashing."

"Have you tried Control-ALT-Delete?"

"Yeah."

"Turning it off and then back on again?"

"Yep."

"Ok...yeah, I'm out," Lestrade shrugged apologetically.

John laughed lightly, "Yeah, it's alright, I'll get Sherlock to look at it." He stood up and started making his way into the kitchen, "Coffee?"

Lestrade followed John, "Please. Where is Sherlock?"

"He's downstairs. Mrs Hudson decided he needed his hair cutting for today."

"Mrs Hudson is cut...he's allowing Mrs Hudson to cut his hair?" Lestrade asked surprised.

"You say that like he has a choice. Mrs Hudson is not a lady to be messed with," John said smiling as he poured boiling water into the cups.

"Well, at least she is the one holding the scissors," Lestrade said, trying to shake off the image that had just popped into his head of Sherlock as Sweeney Todd.

"Yeah, there is that," John nodded, "Do you take sugar?"

"One, thanks. So he really has no idea?"

"No," John replied handing Lestrade his cup, "If he knows, which I really don't think he does, he hasn't said anything."

"I don't know whether I'm surprised or not."

"Hmm. Well, I wouldn't know if it wasn't for Mycroft."

Lestrade's eyebrows rose slightly, "You've met Sherlock's brother then?"

"Yeah, he should be coming actually. I take it you've met him?"

Lestrade nodded grimly, "Oh yeah, we met. It was years ago now though." He paused but seeing John's questioning look continued, "We were sort of forced into working together."

"Let me guess, by Sherlock?"

"Not quite. It was more for Sherlock."

John narrowed his eyes in confusion and was about to ask more questions when Sherlock came strolling in through the door; his hair was considerably neater if not that much shorter. John watched as his flatmate immediately started to try and analyse the situation.

"You're not here for a case?" Sherlock asked Lestrade curiously but with a hint of disappointment.

"You know, sometimes people start conversations with 'hello'." Lestrade replied between sips of coffee.

"If you're not...are you here-" Sherlock began ignoring the DI's sarcasm.

"Sherlock!" John cut him off, "Can we not try and deduce everything?" He rubbed his face with his hands, "My computer's crashed again, will you have a look at it please?"

Sherlock glanced between John and Lestrade suspiciously. He was convinced that he was missing something but, catching the tone of John's voice, decided to leave it, "Are you sure you want me to use your computer?"

"You won't be using it. You'll be fixing it," John clarified.

Sherlock smirked. "Have you tried Control-ALT-Delete?"

That question made Lestrade snort but John rolled his eyes, "Yes and before you ask, I've tried turning it off and then on again too."

"Alight, I'll see what I can do." Sherlock said leaving the room and positioning himself at the desk. He didn't notice Mrs Hudson quietly slip into the kitchen after his departure. John and Lestrade both smiled at her knowingly and then quietly moved into the living room themselves; Lestrade sitting in Sherlock's chair and John taking his own. They both sat in silence for a while watching Sherlock as he worked. The silence was broken however by the sound of the front door being opened and footsteps up the stairs. Sherlock turned suddenly.

"Why is Mycroft here?" He said looking accusingly between the two other men.

"Now, now, Sherlock, can I not visit my brother?" Mycroft drawled as he entered the living room.

Sherlock squinted at him and John noticed his flatmates shoulders tense.

"You don't normally vis..." Sherlock looked down and then taking the other men by surprise he suddenly stood up and started pacing, "I should have known. I should have known you'd follow me. Look, I had to go and see him. He was vital for the evidence. I didn't take anything. I am clean!" With that last sentence Sherlock stopped and began running his hands roughly through his hair.

It was a moment before anyone spoke. John stared at Sherlock with concern but, looking over at Lestrade and Mycroft, he saw a sense of sad understanding in their eyes.

"This isn't an intervention, Sherlock," Mycroft said gently making John sigh in understanding of Lestrade's earlier words.

"No, Sherlock. We know you're clean now," Lestrade confirmed.

Sherlock turned to face and study them, "But the two of you...If you're not here for that then..."

"Sometimes Sherlock your ability to delete information is almost more impressive than your ability to retain it," Mycroft interrupted, his tone bordering on condescending.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sherlock spat.

"Mrs Hudson, I think now would be a good time." John called into the kitchen. The shocked expression on Sherlock's face as the landlady rounded the corner holding a cake complete with lit candles was one that John wished he'd photographed.

"Happy Birthday, Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson said beaming.

Sherlock stepped backwards slightly. "Birthday?" he said quietly in disbelief.

"Come on then, dear. Blow out your candles and make a wish," Mrs Hudson instructed kindly.

Sherlock looked at her, confusion etched on his face.

Lestrade laughed, "Sherlock Holmes speechless; I wish I had a video camera."

"Do hurry up, Sherlock," Mycroft said impatiently.

Sherlock's focus drifted to his brother and after a second he smirked. "Eagar for a piece of cake, Mycroft? Not very good for the diet."

"And he's back." Lestrade rolled his eyes earning a chuckle from John, "Sherlock, blow out the bloody candles."

Sherlock, for once, did as he was told and Mrs Hudson disappeared back into the kitchen to find plates and a knife. Mycroft had sat down and he and Lestrade began reacquainting themselves.

"I don't understand," Sherlock said to John.

"You don't understand what?" John asked.

"Why this year?"

John shook his head, "You have a birthday every year, Sherlock."

"That's the point."

"I'm not following."

"I don't normally have cake and Lestrade has never...this is because of you, isn't it?" Sherlock's realisation and surprised childlike expression made John smile.

"Well, Mycroft told me and I figured I couldn't just let it pass."

Sherlock stared at him for a moment and then with a small bob of his head offered a quiet but sincere, "Thank you."

"Right boys, help yourself to cake!" Mrs Hudson said loudly as she returned with a tray in hand, "And then Sherlock can open his presents!"

"Presents?" Sherlock asked with quite a large trace of excitement.

John snorted, "Yes, Sherlock, presents. Anyone would think this was your 7th birthday."

Mycroft didn't miss the way his brother's nose wrinkled, "Oh, for goodness sakes, Sherlock, please tell me you at least know how old you are!"

John and Lestrade did their best to try and stifle their chuckles as Sherlock shot them a thunderous look. Mrs Hudson smiled warmly and told him with a wink, "I think you've got it right, dear. I wish I could forget how old I was from time to time."

Sherlock softened instantly and reached for a piece of cake. He didn't know how old he was but he knew he wouldn't be forgetting this birthday for a while.

...