A/N: Whew, okay, so sorry about the absence. I had the flu and Christmas shopping and bustling around got in the way of these delightful prompts, but I'm back now and hopefully I'll be catching up soon. Enjoy! -SWS

Day: December 3rd

From: Wordwielder

Prompt: Icing

Doctor John Watson walked down the street towards his house, and although he was worn out from a very long day helping Holmes track down a very young, very active smuggler, the thought of being at home with Mary and sitting down to dinner and then a lovely, relaxing evening gave the old soldier an energetic spring in his step.

Looking down at the pavement, he stopped and narrowed his eyes in confusion. There was a sticky glob of white icing smack in the middle of the pavement. He had to hastily take a step backwards just to keep from stepping in it. Now how on earth did frosting from a cake get to coating the streets of London along with all the other filth? the doctor asked himself.

Shrugging off his confusion, he went on walking. A few yards in front of him was another glob of icing. And then another. And another. They led straight up the steps of his house and stopped at the door. Completely bewildered, Watson stood on the pavement outside his house, mouth slightly open and head tilted to one side in absolute confusion.

Making a mental note to ask Mary about it when he got inside, he walked up to the door and entered, careful to sidestep the globs of icing - for Mary would be positively furious if he tracked any in on the bottom of his shoes.

He took off his hat and jacket and hung them on the hooks of the coat stand, and was about to lean his walking cane against the wall when he heard voices from what was either the drawing room or the dining room. He paused, completely still and silent, cane still held in his hand, and listened. Were there intruders? Thieves? Kidnappers? Was Mary in danger? He tried to make out what the voices were saying and if he knew to whom they belonged, but he couldn't. Then he heard a very loud, very feminine shhh-ing, obviously from a female unable to contain her excitement. Mary?

"Mary?" he called out, holding his cane much like a sword in front of him, prepared to fight off any criminals who came at him with intent to harm. "Mary, I'm home."

The door to the dining room was ajar, and the lights were on, so the doctor pushed open the door to ascertain what the devil was going on. Mary and Mrs. Hudson stood at the end of the table, putting the finishing touches on a cake that was iced in white - the same color he had seen on the pavement.

"Happy birthday, John!" Mary exclaimed, her face glowing with girlish happiness.

Watson blinked and looked around the room. Holmes, Lestrade, and Mycroft were all sitting at the table, smiling at him - or rather, Lestrade was. Holmes and Mycroft were putting on the closest thing to a smile that they in all their unemotional aloofness knew how to, which was some sort of a pained sneer.

Was it his birthday? Watson checked his memories for any reference as to the date. 3rd December, the date on the London Times had read when he had picked it up this morning. So it was his birthday! The excitement of finishing the case with Holmes had completely distracted his attention from all else - and it was obvious that his wife and friends had used that fact to their own advantage.

He blinked again, still shocked into silence, mouth agape and cane held limply at his side. "Th-thank you," he finally managed to stammer. "Um, was this why there was a trail of frosting outside leading up to the door?" he gestured with his cane in the general direction of the foyer and front door.

Mrs. Hudson put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, dear. I had some of Mr. Holmes' urchins -"

This earned a glare and correction from the detective. "They are not urchins, Mrs. Hudson, they are my unofficial force!"

The motherly old landlady sighed. "Well, I had them deliver the icing for the cake to us. I do hope they didn't get any on the carpets."

Watson shook his head. "No, I didn't observe any when I came in."

Mary clasped her hands together. "Come sit, my dear husband. Let's have some cake."

A/N: I hope I did this lovely prompt justice! Thanks for it, I had fun writing it just now and picturing this happening. I hope you enjoyed! I'll have more up soon, and as always, please review! -SWS