"No parties John and you know you can never surprise me anyway so why go through the trouble?" Sherlock looked up from his microscope.

"I wasn't."

Sherlock's eyebrow cocked "You weren't?"

"No."

"But you are planning something."

John scoffed "After your last birthday party went so spectacularly well? Not this year. You will be getting gifts…" he paused as Sherlock rolled his eyes in annoyance. "You will be getting gifts, and we will all be out having dinner in your honor. That is, unless you would care to join us."

"I'm busy."

"Busy? Busy doing what?" he was a bit annoyed now.

"I have some very time sensitive experiments that I can't possibly put off." he turned his attention back to his microscope.

"Sherlock –"John was about to retort when his phone rang, it was Mary. He knew that Sherlock wouldn't budge in his decision. So he decided to pick his battles. He walked up stairs and answered his phone "Hello love."

"Hello, darling; so has his majesty decided to grace his birthday dinner with his presence?"

"No, he's busy."

"Oh… well have you given him his gift yet?" the hint of mischief in her voice gave him pause. "No dear, why? You know, you've been acting a bit strange ever since we browsed through those magazines… is there something you're not telling me?"

"No. I just want to hear about his reaction to his present." She replied just a little too quickly.

"Mary," John began "is there something you want to tell me?"

"No, no, nothing at all. So when are you coming to pick me up?"

"Around 8 and when I get there, dear, you're going to tell me what's got you so on edge."

"You mean other than you?" she purred

"Nice try."

"Oh, it was worth a shot."

"I'll see you soon love."

"I'll be waiting darling."

In the closet, behind the box containing his old army uniform was the box. Mary had kept it at her flat until last night when she had brought it over while Sherlock was out on a case (the brother did it. Lestrad could have figured it out himself, clearly a three. They're getting lazy). It was wrapped in black paper with white skulls scattered across the surface and a big purple bow on the top. He shook his head and smiled. He was just planning to give it as is, minus the shipping label of course.

He needed to get going if he wanted to get there in time. He picked up his coat and the box before heading down stairs and depositing it on the kitchen table "Happy Birthday, Sherlock."

Sherlock stared at the box before lifting it and giving it a shake. Obviously it was paper in nature, books? No it would be much heavier and thicker if it were books. Maybe it was some back issues of Pathology Weekly that he had taken to liberating from Molly's desk (after she had read them of course). "You finally got me something useful this time John." He smiled.

He pulled the tail of the bow, unraveling it and sending it fluttering to the table. He ripped the paper and lifts the flaps. He picked up the envelope (No doubt a birthday wishes card) and his smile drops while his heart stops at the sight of the magazine cover. No. Oh of course, stupid. The day that John had cleaned the flat; the harpoon had been back in his room and the clock had been angled a fraction to the left. He normally kept the box under a loose floorboard that was under his bed but Lestrad had texted him with a case and he had simply threw the box underneath and dashed out the door. Damn. With slightly trembling fingers, he opened the envelope

Dear Sherlock,

Many Happy returns. I just want you to know that I found your "collection" by accident, but I'm sure by now you've already figured that out. I just want you to know that it's all fine. There is nothing wrong or shameful about having things like this. So I decided to complete your collection with the rest of their issues. Glad to know that you're a real boy after all.

Your friend,

John