Rating: K
Characters: Sherlock/Watson
A/N: ;DD The Doctor's fob watch makes a cameo. This is based off the BBC Sherlock, if anyone was confused ;D
"What are you doing, John?" Sherlock asked from his place on the couch and John froze on the spot, his hand clenched tighter around his treasure. He turned to Sherlock, hiding it behind his back [not that it was going to do much good with a genius in the room, but at least he could try.]
Sherlock raised an eyebrow quizzically, before placing his book down beside him, standing up from the couch and staring at his flatmate. The doctor in question shrunk a little from Sherlock's steady gaze. "N-oh, nothing." He said quickly, going to move away when a hand caught his wrist.
Sherlock's hand.
His heartbeat increased.
"You're nervous," Sherlock stated, "Your pupils have diluted and you are sweating? Have you gone for simple morning exercise? No, you're still recovering from the fact that your limp has gone, and the fact that you're still dry and your shoes are clean would suggest against exercise. Sweating, erratic movement of the eyes and the fact that your pulse has gone up would suggest you are lying or hiding something, maybe both. Hiding something? It must have come from inside the flat then," He cocked his head slightly, "And you must be an idiot to know that I can't see the brightly wrapped parcel behind your back, Watson." Sherlock frowned, "What's it for?"
"Couldn't you figure it out?"
Sherlock studied him for a moment, undoubtedly trying to figure it out in his head. John sighed, almost seeing the clockworks turning in his friend's brain, before presenting the parcel. "Happy Birthday, Sherlock."
Sherlock stopped all calculations, frowning, "How did you know it was my birthday?"
"I guessed."
"You…guessed?" He asked, "And out of three-hundred and sixty five and a quarter days you managed to get it right?" He frowned, "You're lying again."
John sighed, before placing the gift in the other man's hands, "You never told me which day it was, so I figured either way it was a present to make up for your last, or for your next. I got lucky that I hit your actual birthday."
"Thankyou John," Sherlock said quietly, "Can I…?" He asked, motioning to the bright wrapping. John nodded, breathing a sigh of relief to know that Sherlock didn't believe in birthdays or something like that. Carefully Sherlock tore a small hole in one side of the small package, letting a small black box slide neatly on his palm. Curiously as a child, he opened the box.
He couldn't identify the make of the little fob watch now neatly resting in the box, nor the metal it was made out of- something foreign, perhaps. It glittered in the low lights of the apartments, its gold like exterior shining. The lid was covered with circular runes, all overlapping and interchanging, elaborate and detailed beyond anything Sherlock had rest his eyes upon.
"John, that's-" He said, looking up.
"If you don't like it, I can get you something else, I mean-"
"No, it's perfect," Sherlock said, running his fingers over the lid, before picking it up, letting the weight of it sit in his cupped palm, "Thankyou."
Watson smiled in relief, watching Sherlock attach the chain in the inner pocket of his suit, sliding the pocket watch in beside it. There was a moment of silence before John spoke up again, "It's almost lunch."
"So it is, Doctor Watson."
"I know a good little Chinese shop down the road….interested?"
"Always."