Disclaimer: Um yeah, I don't own Sherlock Holmes.
AN: So this is my first Holmes/Watson fic (What I like to call Hotson, Hehe), so please be gentle. I have no idea when Watson's birthday is so I used my own. Please review, and enjoy!
I had not even a bit of remembrence that it was my birthday when I walked into 221B Baker Street that afternoon. Holmes and I had just finished a very tiring case on my part, though not exactly on his. Mrs. Hudson bade us hello and before I knew it I had shut myself in my room, peacefully drifiting off to sleep. I had gotten in a few hours of shut eye when I was shook awake with a soft Watson, Watson wake up, in my ear. Shaking off the annoying voice I fell back asleep into the peaceful world of dreamland.
There it was again though, being shook even more violently than before. Watson, I daresay. Wake up this instant! We have places to go, people to see! I turned over in my bed to see the silver eyes of Sherlock Holmes staring at me, I mean through me, with a hint of irritation. "Watson, wake up! We must be going!"
"Where are we going?" But I didn't have time to get it out as he left the room yelling, get dressed, we're going out for dinner. I quickly dressed and was putting my best shoes on when I found one of them to be missing. "Holmes, do you know where my other shoe is?"
"I think I gave it to Gladston as a distraction when I was conducting an experiment on him." I walked into the sitting room to promptly find Gladston sitting peacefully chewing on my shoe.
"Give that to me!" I ripped it out of his mouth, and after inspecting it found the ends of the laces chewed and frayed, and teeth marks in the leather. "Goddamnit Holmes you are going to pay for this!" Unwillingly I put my other shoe on, since I had no other choice. I walked downstairs to the front door to find Holmes waiting for me.
"Why you look absolutely smashing old boy!" I glared at him for I was still rather tired and irritated with my friend. "Well we must be going then, I have a cab waiting outside." I grabbed my walking stick and headed out the door into the cold November air.
"Could you please tell me where we're going?" My eyes pleaded for him to tell me but as usual, it was no hardship for Holmes to withold information from me. I waited a feew more moments but still no answer. "Fine then, but it better be good because I didn't drag my butt out of bed for nothing." Once again Holmes refused to answer me, and we enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence.
The cab pulled up infront of The Royale, and thankfully, I knew I would have a decent meal if nothing else. "Ah here we are," said Holmes as he stepped out of the cab.
"The Royale, very nice," said I as we walked into the restaurant. I looked around and saw that the place was fairly empty, which was a suprise as this was one of the most popular restaurants in London. We walked over to the table where we usually sat when we came to dine here, and I took my usual seat. "Our usual table I see."
"Yes, yes, our usual table. Now, what shall you be having to eat Watson?" I glanced at him, astonished, as he never asked me what I wanted to eat.
"Oh um, the roast chicken I suppose," I said.
"Just as I suspected you would order."
"But how would you know what I would order?" I asked.
"Well it's quite simple really, for I have been studying your habits for some time now. Whenever you are in a cheery or happy mood you always prefer something light, like a salad. However, when you are in a irritated or unpleasent mood you go with a heavier meal, such as some sort of meat. You prefer to eat chicken on Thursday's because it gives you a sufficient amount of protien and other nutrients to get through a long day tomorrow since most likely we'll be at the boxing ring and you'll have to stay until I'm finished there. As you are in a very irritated mood tonight, the effect of me waking you up from your nap, and it's a Thursday, you ordered chicken. Simple as that, really. But now, I have wasted to much time for now our meal is here and you haven't a chance to speak."
My glare deepened as the waitor brought us our food, and I tried to eat in silence, but too many questions plauged my mind. "May I ask why you have been studying my habits?" I asked. "Are your cases not stimulating enough for you and you have to turn to me when you're bored?"
He stared at me. "Yes Watson, you're quite right," he said sarcastically, "I just spend countless hours studying your habits because I'm bored!" He kicked me in the shin. "I have many, many other reasons to study your habits." I went to kick him back, even slap him across the face, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.
"You know Holmes, I really have no idea how, or why I put up with your abuse."
He chuckled. "It's quite obvious Watson. You put up with my abuse because you're in love with me." My face grew pale, but showed a hint of blush, which made him even laugh even harder. "Admit it Watson, you're in love with me."
"I've never known you to be wrong Holmes, but this time you are. I am not in love with you!" Once again he laughed.
"You just wait, before the night is over you'll realize that you're in love with me." I went back to meal, trying to avoid any more awkward conversation. We finished our meal in silence and left the restaurant and got into the cab that was waiting for us outside The Royale. Continuing the pattern, our cab ride was in silence except for once when once again Holmes managed to irritate me even more. "You have the grand gift of silence Watson, it makes you quite invaluable as a companion."
That was it, I had had enough, I punched him in the face. I chuckled to myself, especially after I saw the blood start to spurt from his nose. He glared at me and I laughed harder, which I would regret later but at the moment was enjoying it very much. We arrived back at Baker Street in silence. Mrs. Hudson went and got Holmes a warm rag to put over his nose and wash off with, but she of course assumed he had gotten it at the boxing ring.
"You know if I didn't know any better Holmes I would say your pretty pissed off at me." A cheeky, devious smile returned to his face.
"Hell no Watson. I got exactly what I wanted out of you."
"And what excatly did you want out of me?" He had already gone and secluded himself in his room though, leaving me alone. Oh well, I thought, I guess I can go back to bed, I am awfully tired. First though I went down to the kitchen to get some food to feed Gladston, and to hang my coat up in the closet. When I returned upstairs to my room I found everything as usual, except for a fairly large box with a folded piece of parchment on top of it, sitting on my bed.
I read the piece of parchment, which read, To Watson... Love Holmes. What the hell? Cautiously I peeled the ribbon of the box, after all I had proof that it was from Holmes. I slowly lifted the top of the box, preparing myself for anything that might jump out at me or hurt me in anyway. The only thing I found though was my old rugby ball.
Why is he giving me my old rugby ball? I hadn't even seen it for a couple of years. I picked it up, fondling the old ball that had so many memories. That was when I started to sneeze. I picked up the handkerchief that was sitting on my nightstand to wipe of my nose, and the rest of my face for that matter as I had snot dripping down my face.
Finally the sneezing stopped and I decided that I had better go find out why Holmes had given me my old rugby ball. I exited my room and knocked on the door to his. "Holmes, can I please come in?"
"Yes, please come in." I entered the room expecting an array of smoke and other chemicals to blast in my face as they usually did, but there were none. "My dear Watson, may I ask why you are visting me? I assumed you would be catching back up on the sleep I interrupted you from."
I looked suspiciously at him. He would know why I was here. Hell he would know why I was here, even if it didn't have to do with him. "I was just coming to ask why you gave me my old rugby ball."
"Well I was giving it to you as a birthday gift of course. You are my best friend." I went over to check the calender and came to realize that today was November 7, my birthday.
"Oh well thank you. I guess I was to busy with you to remember that it was even my birthday." He stood up from his bed and came and gave me a hug.
"Happy birthday Watson." That was when I started to feel extremely uncomfortable. Holmes continued to stand there and hug me, and I could feel the smile grow on his face as I pushed him away. He leaned his face only inches away from mine. "Is there something wrong Watson?"
I felt my heartbeat quicken as I backed away from him into the door. "No, nothing at all." He chuckled, that kind of laugh he had whenever he knew something that I didn't.
"Well you're sweating like a dog, and have a very unusual look upon your face Watson, are you sure that nothing's wrong?" He came up to me, his face once again just inches from mine, and his arms on either side of me on the door, so I couldn't try to escape.
I continued to sweat profusely, my heart beat quickening, and my pants feeling much too tight. "There's nothing wrong," I said without looking him straight in the eyes.
"Of course there's nothing wrong," he said, his hot breath sending chills down my spine. "You like this, don't you?" I couldn't deny what he said, I did like it, but why? I had no chance to ask though, because before I knew it he had crushed his lips against mine. I returned the kiss, putting my arms around him and feeling up his back.
Holmes undid my tie and started on the buttons of my shirt as I undid his waistcoat, and practically ripped of his shirt with one tug. He had undone my belt, and me his when I stopped him, the effects of whatever he had given me had started to wear off. "Holmes, what did you give me?" I growled.
He chuckled to himself. "Oh just some arousals, you didn't really need them but I just wanted to make sure."
"You gave me arousals! Why and how?"
"It's quite simple, as I told you before, I've been studying your habits. I knew you were going to order that chicken so I gave the chef a little something to put in it. Also, the rugby ball was only a distraction, I put some dust in that box, which I know you're fairly allergic to, causing you to sneeze uncontrolably and need your handkerchief. While you were downstairs I rubbed a special mixture of chemicals on your handkerchief, thus the entering your blood stream by you wiping your mouth, the proceeding to lick your lips off. Any questions?"
I stared at him blankly, all that just to get me to kiss him. "But why?"
"Once again, I have been studying you, and had promptly figured out that you were infatuated with me. The way you would look at me at the boxing ring--" I jumped at him, crushing my lips against his.
"Again Holmes, you are always right. I am infatuated with you." He deepened the kiss, but then paused for a minute to catch his breath.
He breathed heavily, "Happy birthday Watson." Lets just say, it was the best birthday present I ever had.