My first Sherlock fanfiction, I'm so happy. :) It's not very long, just a bit of fluff to help me through a trifle of writers' block. Sorry if it's cheesy, I didn't think it'd be perfect.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of its characters because if I did, this would be canon.


"I'm an idiot," sighed the consulting detective climbing into bed next to his partner of one year exactly.

"Yes, yes you are," John Watson said wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist. "But at least you have a unique way of showing it."

Sherlock only sighed. Unique was definitely the understatement of the century. Destructive would probably be the better word, or maybe spontaneously combustive. That evening had been so utterly wretched, just replaying the events in his head made the detective want to imbed his head in the drywall.

In honor of the one year mark of their relationship – their "anniversary" as John so affectionately called it – Sherlock had attempted to stage a nice evening for the two of them. He'd tidied and cleaned the flat until it was spotless – no thanks to the skull who had refused to be any help at all – and prepared a nice dinner for them in the kitchen. All right, Mrs. Hudson had actually made the food, but Sherlock thought he deserved a little credit. And he'd done all that to surprise John when he got home from work, and of course he was, yet something still managed to go wrong.

He hadn't meant to forget he'd left his eyeball experiment in the microwave. He hadn't meant to mix the wrong chemicals into it before putting said experiment in the microwave. And of course, he hadn't meant for the microwave to explode, very nearly obliterating everything in the kitchen including its two occupants.

For if he had meant for all of those things to happen, he wouldn't be an idiot. Because, unfortunately, they very much succeeded.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock moaned dramatically, nuzzling into the space between the doctor's neck and shoulder. "I ruined everything."

"No you didn't, Sherlock," John said resting his check on the top of Sherlock's head. His curls tickled his nose.

"John, the kitchen's completely destroyed, the food's ruined, and even the roses you picked up – which officially make you a complete romantic by the way – are withered and there's absolutely no chance of saving them. I don't see – "

"I don't care, Sherlock," John said, interrupting Sherlock mid-rant. "So we didn't get have a nice dinner, and so what if we have to buy a new microwave? That doesn't change the fact that it's been a whole year since that awkward conversation that ended with you snogging me in the hall. That means something, that's – that's special."

Sherlock smiled into John's shoulder. "So does that mean I'm off the hook to clean up the mess?"

John chuckled and planted a kiss on the bridge of Sherlock's nose. "Not on your life. Now go to sleep, you idiot."

Reviews a suggestions are encouraged ;)