A/N: Happy Birthday Holmes! This one was trickier than the Modern Day Sherlock, because it's not the same time, so gifts are more difficult. I have x-Pick'n'Mix-x' and 'Georgisaurus-Rex' (to give her her full nickname)to thank for the help. I hope this is alright, I'm not so sure of it myself! Oh Well! This is written literally about 35 minutes ago, and I'm having a Sherlock-athon so it might seem I'm a little Distracted. I have to fit all 3 90 minute Sherlock episodes, and the Film in, along with Internet time. I will go to sleep around 11pm tonight, and get up about 7am. I will need so much Coffee tomorrow, but it is a worthy sacrifice for Sherlock Holmes.
Oh, this is written before Watson knows Mary Morstan exists, because life is better that way!
"Is Holmes alright?" Doctor Watson asked their Landlady as she handed him the morning paper to take to the Detective. He was in a bad mood, and he had a gun; Mrs. Hudson wouldn't go near him.
There were still cases going, and Miss Adler hadn't been around for a while, so there was no reason to be moody.
"It's his Birthday next week." She explained quietly, as if Holmes could hear them in the floor above. Actually, Watson really could imagine him lying on the floor with a glass pressed against his ear between himself and the wooden boards.
"Oh. Really?" Holmes had never mentioned it. But then again, why would he? It was irrelevant information.
"Yes, and this just arrived in the post for Mr Holmes." She placed a large brown-paper covered package in front of Watson.
The address was on the front, with Sherlock Holmes written on it. The handwriting was looped and more elegant, suggesting it had been written by a Woman. Judging by the strong smell of Perfume, he could only assume it was someone rather well off in money terms, and likes people to know it.
Irene Adler, he thought.
"God, help me. I'm even thinking like him now." Watson muttered. "I'll take it up to my office and give it to him next week." He smiled his thanks as Mrs. Hudson left.
~XxXSherlock HolmesXxX~
Holmes glared into the fire, his eyes burning at the brightness. He'd been testing out Magnesium Ribbon to prove if a ex-Prisoner was the murderer, and his eyes still had white spots all over his vision. He was sure it would be fine soon, but until then seeing was rather difficult, so he settled for laying down to rest, by the fire. His own real bed was covered in sheets and papers of various assignments, so he was fine with just sleeping on the floor.
He'd given up sleeping and was now just staring. He'd been dreading his Birthday for 364 days, and now it was almost upon him. He was always made to dress well, wash, and socialise with people, to celebrate himself being born. He knew when his own Birthday was, so why bother making a moment out of it?
Okay, so the world would be a worse place if he wasn't in it, but everyone knew that as well.
The Clock began to chime out, telling him it was Midnight.
"Happy Birthday." He muttered darkly. "Just 24 hours until it's all over."
~XxXSherlock HolmesXxX~
"Holmes?" Watson entered the room carefully, watching his step in case he stood on something important, like Gladstone, or worse; Holmes himself. It had happened once, because the Consulting Detective had fallen asleep surrounded by papers, and blended in in the half-light.
"Over here." Sherlock was sat in his ruined Housecoat by the Window; pipe in hand, paper in the other. "Just solved a rather interesting case involving a diamond and a Divorce. The Midwife did it." He smiled.
"Well done old boy." Watson smiled. "And, Happy Birthday."
Holmes' face instantly dropped. "Oh yes, that." He looked absolutely disgusted with the idea.
"I have a gift from Miss Adler, and one from me."
"Thankyou." Holmes said. "But you really didn't have to."
"I know. I wanted to. I'm sure you'll like it."
Holmes nodded, taking the gifts and choosing to open Miss Adlers' first.
Inside was a battered old leather box. Holmes took a few seconds to admire the casing before opening it and smiling slightly.
He lifted a heavy looking, top of the range, Smith & Wesson Model 2206 Target, with a .22LR calibre, holding 12 rounds, from the box, turning it over in his hands. He saw the main shaft and smiled. Watson saw Sherlock Holmes engraved carefully into the Silver, and smiled as Sherlock gripped the gun in his hand.
Without warning he raised it shot the wall, just behind Watson, who dropped to the floor in fear of being shot.
"Holmes!" He scorned.
"Sorry." Holmes smiled. He looked back at the box and lifted out a note on Parchment, with more of the elegant writing on it.
Sherlock,
I know you already have a gun, but I thought this one might be nicer for you, as it is more to your taste. Enjoy your Birthday, I know you love the attention really.
I A
Holmes looked up at Watson, smiling as he took the second gift, and opened it carefully, grinning at what was inside.
Instantly he stood up, taking the object over to the wall nearby, and hooking it up on a randomly placed pin. Holmes walked back to his chair and sat down, picking up 1 of 6 darts. Taking careful aim, he shot them in quick succession at the dartboard, getting 3 bulls eyes and 3 triple 20s.
He grinned and looked over at Watson, who seemed a little shocked at the direct hits.
"Thankyou Watson!" He smiled. "Most marvellous."
"I thought it would be to your tastes." Watson smiled back. "I'll call Mrs. Hudson, she made tea for us both."
"Fantastic." Holmes smiled. Seemed this Birthday hadn't gone as badly as he had supposed. It must be because he had good company, he decided.
A/N: As you read this, it is Hot-Of-The-Press. Hope you liked it. I didn't really know how to end it, but hopefully this is alright! Please Review for me, and for Sherlock! I have an imaginary Sherlock living with me. He likes to lay on the sofa in the spare room an awful lot, whenever Patrick Jane isn't on there. A review would really cheer him up!
I checked through The Complete Encyclopaedia of Pistols and Revolvers to find the right gun that existed at the time, and that was the result. You should google them, beautiful things.