"I have something for you."
John looked up from his laptop, having just finished typing up the details of their latest case, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"You do?" he asked, shutting the computer and setting it aside. Sherlock, who had been sitting in the kitchen for some time now, staring intently at something out of John's line of sight, nodded and stood. Crossing the room, he stopped just in front of John and held out a small box wrapped in Christmas paper so perfectly that Martha Stewart herself could have done it. John gave Sherlock a look as he took it.
"Did you ask Mrs. Hudson to wrap this for you?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. Sherlock frowned, before giving a small, conceding shrug.
"I did ask if she had less themed paper," he responded, slightly embarrassed considering it was mid-June.
"No, no, it's fine," John assured him, smiling a bit. He was slightly weary of the gift though, only because of the reason behind it that he couldn't see, and thus didn't open it yet as he questioned, "It's not my birthday, or an anniversary date… did you do something wrong?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes impatiently. "I've done nothing, just open it," he pushed, waving one hand. John looked back at the box for a moment longer before sliding one finger underneath the tape, removing the paper with as little tearing as possible. Sherlock fidgeted slightly as he watched John's slowness, but John ignored him, feeling like he should be respectful of the wrapping since it was done so nicely. Finally pulling the paper away, underneath was a simple cardboard box that fit in the palm of John's hand. He popped off the top quickly and was pleasantly surprised at what he found inside.
A dark, thin metal chain pooled in the back of the box, with a small, silver ring attached to it from either side, holding it in place. John lifted it out of the box to examine it, grateful for the length, which didn't appear too long or too short for his liking. Turning it over, he realized there was an inscription on the back of the ring: A Study In Pink. John laughed when he read it.
"The woman at the store suggested engraving the date we started seeing each other, but I felt that more appropriate," Sherlock explained, studying John's face carefully. "What do you think?"
John looked up at the detective, who was still standing stiffly in front of him. "It's perfect. Not too much, something I can take with me when we're apart… Want to help me?" He motioned for Sherlock to take the necklace, which he promptly did, sitting down on the couch next to John. The blonde twisted himself slightly so Sherlock could get the chain around his neck, hooking the clasp in record time. When he was done, John turned back towards him, catching Sherlock's hand and taking it in his own.
"Thank you," John said sincerely, finally making Sherlock smile a bit himself. After, however, he immediately asked, "So, why all this then?" Sherlock's pleased expression fell away to something quite a bit less self-assured.
"Would you settle for the explanation of 'I was feeling spontaneous?'" he asked dryly. John smirked and shook his head, eliciting a resigned sigh from his detective. "Very well. It was that case we finished the other day."
"The man who died of poisoning from the tattoo gun?" John attempted to clarify, obviously confused.
Sherlock nodded. "Correct. When we went to question his girlfriend, she refused to do anything other than cry obscenely, due to the fact that he had received the tattoo to match the one she had gotten in honor of him a few months ago. It was obviously a failing relationship, but you tried to console her regardless, and your exact words were, 'He obviously loved you very much, and wanted something to remind him of you that he could keep with him always. Everyone in love wants something like that.' The only conclusion I could draw was that you were speaking from experience."
His tale finished, the man glanced away for the briefest of intervals, but it was enough that he was completely thrown off-guard when John suddenly placed his hands on either side of Sherlock's face and pulled him forward, pressing his lips against his own passionately. He pulled away after a few seconds, keeping his hands on Sherlock's face and looking at him with utter endearment.
"I can't believe you paid attention to that," John said in a low voice. He hadn't meant his words of consolation to the woman as a subtle suggestion of his own desires in the least, but the fact that Sherlock had taken it upon himself nonetheless made John unexpectedly happy. Sherlock's lips curved around the edges.
"Don't insult me," he replied, much more pleased than he was letting on. John said nothing more, merely bringing his mouth back to Sherlock's in a kiss that could convey far more than words.