"Sherlock, you should smile more often."
"And why would you say that John? If life weren't so boring I might." Sherlock replied.
The two men were sitting in their usual chairs in front of the fire after an unusually difficult case.
"Do you find me boring then?" asked John.
"At times but not nearly as much as others; let's just say that I didn't smile nearly as much before I met you."
"Sherlock Holmes giving a compliment?" asked John in surprise.
"I was merely stating a fact."
There was a ringing and Sherlock answered his phone.
"The answer is no Mycroft." Pause. "If you don't need my help then why are you calling?" pause. "You haven't told me happy birthday in years, the answer is still no." Sherlock hung up and turned back to John, who had an ashamed look about him.
"Why didn't you tell me it was your bloody birthday?" he asked.
"It's not important."
"It's not important? It's the anniversary of my best friend coming into the world, of course it's important."
"You would have known if Mrs. Hudson were in town. She always makes a fuss. I hoped I could enjoy it in peace this year.
"Well you were wrong," said John, already up and grabbing his coat. "We're going out."
"Going out where?" whined Sherlock.
"To dinner and you'll get your present when we get home." John winked and Sherlock found himself gravitating towards the door and the man of his dreams.