"What do you want for Christmas?"
This time, the question was voiced from Sherlock.
John looked up in surprise.
"What?"
"Christmas." Sherlock was sprawled out on the couch, fingers steepled under his chin, staring at the ceiling. "What do you want."
"Er..." John didn't know what to say, honestly, because he hadn't expected Sherlock to bother with the trivialities of gift-giving. John planned on getting him something, but he didn't expect anything in return.
"I don't know," he said, frowning to himself. "I hadn't thought about it."
Sherlock turned his head, looking at John. His quickly assessed John's face, eyebrows furrowing.
The typical self-consciousness of being deduced washed over John. "What?"
Sherlock looked away. "Coat."
"What?"
"You like my coat. Ever since I quipped that a good coat makes you appear taller, you've been contemplating buying a new one. I'll purchase a coat for you."
"W-Wait, what? Hang on!" John spluttered. He refused to admit that he liked Sherlock's coat or that he'd been thinking of buying himself a good long coat. "Don't tell me what you're getting me!"
"Why not?" Sherlock sounded bored.
"Because it's supposed to be a surprise!"
"Surprises are dull. Really, John, I don't know how normal humans get by..."