John's sat on the sofa. No breakfast or even a cup of tea. Kettle not boiling. Waiting for something. Sat awkwardly. Hiding something? Looked up at me when I walked in…
"Ah. It's that day again."
"Yes Sherlock, it is." Resignation. He already knows I won't enjoy it, yet still bothers. Following social norms is sooo dull.
"Don't bother. I'm not interested. And you know that."
"Sherlock, it's your birthday. You will celebrate it." Ah, that voice, the look, he's annoyed with me again.
"Only once I've killed my brother in an imaginative way for telling you. Maybe I could frame you. Or Lestrade. I would frame Anderson but it'd be a little too obvious."
"Or you could thank him. You were hardly going to tell me."
"There was a reason for that."
Mycroft likes birthdays no more than I do, why would he bother? Obviously he just wishes to annoy me, as usual. May prompt John into a surprise party for him… no, that would involve me pretending to like him and would make him worse than ever. Murder is soo much easier…
"I've got you a present Sherlock, not that you care. Mrs Hudson has one too, she'll give it to you later, she's a bit busy right now." Of course she is, she's making the cake for my 'surprise' party later. She really shouldn't have invited Donovan and Anderson though, she should have asked John about that first.
"Ah, yes, the Royal London watch. With the black face. Available from all good stores for just £39.99."
"Go on then, I'll let you show off. It is your birthday after all…" He would let me 'show off' as he puts it anyway, so why the excuse? Most likely embarassed about his inferior intellect, enjoys hearing mine more than he cares to admit. May as well indulge him.
"You knew I didn't have a watch but that I normally wear one, you saw me give my last one to Thompson, after he found Mr Gregson for me. The homeless network really is indispensable… Anyway, you knew I needed a new one. You also went out alone three days ago, whilst I was on a case, you wouldn't usually do that, you enjoy the cases too much. You came back with a smallish bag, which you tried to hide, unsuccessfully of course. That meant it must be my present. Then, when you handed it to me, you looked hopeful that I would like it, meaning you thought you'd actually chosen something I'd like, so it must have been something decent. A smallish package, decent, so reasonably expensive and therefore something you thought I needed, a watch. Now, the model. When we walked past the jewellers last week, you briefly glanced at one model in particular, but it wasn't the one you chose, it was too expensive. The Royal London was the one closest to your previous choice but at a reasonable price considering I am your flatmate, not family or romantically attached."
Brilliant. Now he's gaping. Why is he always so predictably boring?
"Fine, yes. All completely right. As usual." He'd hoped to surprise me. In his tiny little brain forgetting that there was never any chance of that.
"So, what do you want to do? And don't say nothing, you are going to celebrate, whether you like it or not." And now that determined look, there's not much chance of avoiding this without seriously injuring myself or him. If I'm going to have to comply I may as well make it fun…