A/N: Well, it's been far too long since I've posted anything on here- I've been suffering from the worst bout of writer's block I've ever had, unfortunately. This is, however, a very special occasion that called for a story to be written- the birthday of my dearest friend, estuncloche. I hope this poor offering will make her smile just a tad. :)

For you, my dear:

Holmes had been in and out of Baker St. for the better part of the last three weeks on cases and errands. I daresay I'd seen more of the man when I lived in Kensington! It had been nigh on a year since his return, but we still had so much to catch up on… The fact that we were in such proximity but scarce saw each other was terribly frustrating. To top it all of, it was steadily nearing my birthday and I hadn't much of anyone else to share it with, save perhaps Gregson or Lestrade. Though I hated to admit it, I was beginning to worry that I was to spend my birthday alone- and that it was quite probably going to be forgotten.

I woke up that very morning, not feeling much different for being another year old. Looking out of the window, I saw it raining rather heavily- not a good sign to be sure. Donning my dressing gown, I made my way to the sitting room only to have my misgivings realized. Indeed, I sighed, I would be celebrating alone. Just as I sunk into my chair, heavy with melancholy, I heard the front door close and a body shuffling off their coat. I listened curiously to rushed tiptoes mounting the seventeen stairs to the sitting room. Holmes came through the door, rather wet for the weather, carrying a surprisingly dry package.

"Good morning, Holmes." I replied, in a brighter mood than before.

He smiled, "Happy birthday, my dear Watson". I noticed a somewhat suppressed shiver.

"Go get yourself warm and dry- I'll have Mrs. Hudson bring tea and breakfast."

He nodded and disappeared into his room. I rang for Mrs. Hudson and asked for the aforementioned items. She left with a birthday wish and a smile to start our meal.

Holmes came back out in his dressing gown. "So, how are you doing on your birthday, old man?"

"'Old man?'" I scoffed. "You're hardly younger than I!" He only smirked and awaited my answer. "Well, better now, I suppose, than a half hour ago."

"Whatever do you mean?"

I sheepishly admitted my concern, pointing out the rarity of his presence around the flat.

"My dear Watson, you oughtn't worry so! In fact, many of my excursions were to acquire this," He placed the good-sized parcel he'd had earlier on the table. "Well, do go on- It was deucedly hard to put together."

Curiously, I picked it up. "My word, it's heavy, Holmes!"

I unwrapped it as he wordlessly watched in anticipation. Peeling away the brown paper, I found the 4 medical texts I'd been eyeing for weeks now. I hadn't bought them yet because they were simply more than my pocketbook could afford.

"Holmes-" I said, flabbergasted. "But- how?"

"My dear Watson, this is my occupation, you know." He smiled.

" But-" I lovingly ran my finger down the spine of the first one. "I don't know what to say!"

"And you needn't," he said- hearing Mrs. Hudson's eminent arrival before I did. "Happy birthday, old chap."