CHAPTER 11

The rest of January seemed to pass by much too quickly, soon bringing about the first week of February which sped by just as fast. Before one could even blink, Valentine's Day had arrived.

Sherlock was never one to remember such trivial things as what days certain holidays happened to fall on. Hell, he could hardly be bothered to remember his own birthday.

As far as he knew, February the fourteenth was just like any other day.

That's why it came as a surprise to him when John came back home to the flat after (supposedly) going out to pick up some more milk with a bouquet of roses in one hand and a wrapped gift in the other.

"Oh, damn," John said, blushing as red as the flowers in his hand. "Mrs. Hudson texted me that you had gone out while I was shopping. I thought I might be able to surprise you."

Sherlock looked absolutely confused.

"Surprise me?"

John nodded.

"Yeah. But I should have known better. No one can ever really surprise the great Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock knitted his brow.

"Why would you?"

John seemed to frown a bit at this question.

Sherlock was missing something. He was sure of it.

"Do you really not know what day it is today?" John asked.

"Of course I know. It's the fourteenth. Why?"

John rolled his eyes and walked over to where Sherlock was sitting in his chair, holding out the flowers and gift.

"It's Valentine's Day, idiot."

Sherlock was not sure as to what he should do. He looked up in complete shock at John who was begging him to take the gifts, his eyes shifting momentarily to Gladstone who was sitting in the middle of the rug, cocking her head at the two men as if sympathizing with Sherlock's obvious distress.

"John, I-"

"Take them."

Sherlock hesitantly reached out for the two gifts with both hands and laid them down on his lap once he had them in his grasp. His fingers danced slowly over the surface of the small, wrapped box on his lap, as if they were unsure as to what to do next.

John cleared his throat.

"The next step would be to open it, Sherlock," he said, an air of humor about his voice.

He obviously wasn't mad, which was a blessing in and of itself.

Sherlock carefully tore open the wrapping paper and lifted the lid off the box in his hand.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the single DVD that he saw before him.

"It's just a little something I put together for you. You don't have to play it now. Or ever, really. It's kind of a sentimental thing, which I know isn't exactly your cup of tea."

"John…" Sherlock said, at a loss for words.

"In fact, I don't know why I gave it to you in the first place," John said, getting up from his chair and reaching for the disc in Sherlock's hand. "You probably won't-"

"Thank you."

John looked shocked.

"What?"

Sherlock smiled up at him.

"Thank you, John."

John cleared his throat.

"Oh. Yeah, um… you're welcome. Erm… yeah, so, you don't have to watch it."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"What did you place on here, pornographic material? Nude pictures of yourself?"

John shook his head at both.

"Well, then what are you so worried about?"

John shrugged his shoulders.

"Getting you gifts has always been a sort of stressful thing. I don't know if you'll like it."

Sherlock stood up and kissed John on the lips.

"I'm sure I'll love it. But I feel as if I should save it."

John laughed nervously.

"Yeah, that would um… yeah. Good. Good."

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist and gave the good doctor another kiss, this time a bit fuller.

"I apologize for forgetting such a significant holiday, John," he said when he released his hold.

John shrugged.

"I didn't really expect you to remember, anyway. If you're worried about not getting me a gift…"

Sherlock shook his head.

"I've actually got some news for you that might equate to a Valentine's gift."

John raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

Sherlock grinned.

"How about a case tomorrow?"

John's face lit up.

"Lestrade texted you?"

Sherlock nodded.

"It's about Moriarty."

The light in John's face dimmed.

"Oh, don't worry, John," Sherlock said. "I've drawn my own sensible conclusions on the matter. I know that the criminal whom we're dealing with is not Moriarty, but another criminal using his image to scare the whole of London. I just figure we could use the exercise."

John bit the inside of his cheek, nervously.

"Yeah but what if-"

Sherlock stopped him.

"If it does turn out to be Moriarty himself, then we will take care of the problem the way we always do."

"Shoot it?"

Sherlock nodded with a smirk upon his face.

"Make sure you bring your Browning along. The game, my dear Watson, is on!"

John rolled his eyes.

"You just love saying that, don't you?"

"Very much so, yes."

The doctor peered over at the stove clock.

"Well, if we're going to be gallivanting around London we ought to get to bed."

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders.

"You go on, John. I won't be able to do much sleeping with this case on my mind."

John sighed.

"Promise me you'll get to bed soon, love?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Will promising make you feel better?"

He looked at the stern expression on John's face.

"Fine. I promise."

With a satisfied smile, John elevated himself so he was standing on his toes and pecked the detective on the cheek.

"Happy Valentine's Day, idiot."

When John's footsteps faded away into the bedroom, Sherlock sighed and sat himself down on the chair. He picked up the disc that he had laid on the arm of the chair and inspected it.

Whatever could be on this desk? And what did he mean by 'a sentimental thing'?

Sherlock was eager to see what was stored on the thing, but he figured it was best to lay it aside and save it for a rainy day. Not literally, of course. Sherlock thought it odd how that was the expression that had been coined. Why a rainy day? Why not a snowy day?

He shook his head of these useless thoughts and put the disc back in the sleeve it had come in in the box. To keep it safe. He smiled at the roses that lay on the floor. Picking them up, he walked over to the kitchen and dug around a bit to find an uncontaminated vase. He promptly filled it with water and gently placed the roses inside of it. He sighed longingly.

"Happy Valentine's Day, John. And many, many more."