Guys, I have been trying to catch up on Supernatural (i'm only on Season 2, so look how that turned out) so that is my only excuse for not writing. I'm going to finish the stories, I promise. And by the way, someone said they wanted a sequel to I'll Always Be Here, so i'm writing that for the next chapter. So, I promise I will update, so keep hanging in there!

John was on his break at work, enjoying his lunch and talking with Sarah when a call came in from Sherlock.

"Sorry," He excused himself from the table and answered the phone, "John Watson."

"John," Sherlock's voice was slightly edgy.

"Sherlock, you know I'm at work." John scolded. A shaky exhale sounded through the phone, "Babe, is something wrong?"

"John, it's…..nothing. I'll tell you when you get home. Just….happy birthday."

John's eyebrows furrowed, "Sherlock, if you need something…"

"John, it's fine. I'll tell you when you come home."

"Okay, babe. Call me if you need me. Love you."

A sigh came out of the speaker, "Love you too."

"What was that all about?" Sarah asked John from the table.

John shook his head, "I don't know."

John's keys jingled as he unlocked the door, "Sherlock, I'm home!" He called into the flat as he shed his coat and hat.

Hanging both of them up, he looked around the empty room, "Sherlock? Babe? Are you home?"

He raced up into the bedrooms and check the bathroom, and even the closets, just to see if it was some kind of trick.

"Sherlock, bloody hell, when I find you I-" He stopped short at the sight of a gift on the coffee table next to his armchair. It was wrapped in blue with a silver bow.

It was very small, and a note lay on top in scrawly handwriting. John read it allowed to himself.

John,

Do not open until I return. Unless you are insanely curious.

P.S. Happy Birthday

Sherlock

"Right, so it's not a trick, it's some bloody test!" He shouted to the empty flat. He plopped down in his armchair and opened his computer. Alright, he thought, I'll play your game, Sherlock.

Over time he switched to different activities; blogging, watching crap telly, reading, blogging, and more reading. But every time his focus just slipped a little, his mind was back to the blue box.

John checked his watch. 6:30. Sherlock was probably out at the morgue, doing some stupid test on a body or happening an animal and not thinking about John at all.

"Oh, what the hell…." He stood, turned to the box, and pulled off the bow slowly, slightly afraid it would explode.

Reluctantly, he pulled off the lid to reveal a note.

Look behind you.

John sighed, "Sherlock, if you meant to piss me off, you did a hell of a-" He turned and stopped short, a small gasp escaping his throat at the note and gift on Sherlock's armchair.

"Sherlock…oh my god." Even in his pissed off state, John couldn't suppress a smile.

John was reading when Sherlock got home. The taller man sat next to John on the couch, and put his feet into John's lap. John chuckled, putting the book in his left hand while massaging Sherlock's feet with his right.

With a contented hum, Sherlock closed his eyes. "John."

"Hmm?" John shut his book and looked at Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't open his eyes, "Did you open your gift?"

John looked down at Sherlock's feet, running a thumb over all five toes as a small laugh escaped him, "Yep."

John could feel Sherlock tense, "And what's your answer?"

John sighed, a smile crossing his face as he looked down at the gleaming, silver engagement ring on his finger, "My answer is yes."

Sherlock's eyes flew open, blue irises piercing into the former soldier, "Prove it."

John sighed and rolled his eyes, sliding on top of Sherlock to meet his lips in a tender, slow kiss.

John was the one to break away, leaning back and getting off the couch. He yawned loudly and said, "Sherlock, it's late. Let's go to bed."

As John dragged them up by the hand to their shared bedroom, he couldn't suppress a smile.