A/N: Hello, lovely and fantastic readers! I am happy so many of you are following and reviewing this story. You all are so kind and your feedback is very helpful. I made a decision. Since this story is very emotional and heart breaking, I decided to make a fluffy and cute chapter just for you guys! So this entire chapter is a flashback which I hope makes you smile and laugh. That's all for now. Cheers!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Sherlock trudges up the stairs, depressed and disappointed. It was his birthday, but everyone had forgotten. No, it wasn't that big of a deal to him, but John always made it memorable and fun. Not today though, everyone had forgotten. Even Mrs. Hudson. The detective enters the flat, going straight to his room. He lays in his bed, signing into the pillow.

He drifts off, but then his phone goes off. He almost considers not answering it, but then gets a bit of hope it was someone who remembered his birthday. Nope, it was just Lestrade.

Dead couple on Leman Street. Will you come? -GL

With a sigh and grumble, Sherlock punches in a response.

Why not? It's not like anything important is happening in my life today. -SH

He really hoped the D. I. got his hint.

Great! See you in a few. -GL

Guess not.

Sherlock gets in a cab, arriving at the crime scene. He investigates the bodies. Newly weds, young, both quite faithful, and not well off. They had been stabbed several times with a long, eight inch blade. Sherlock deduces that they had been mugged and then killed for their money. Nothing too difficult.

He also figures out that the mugger will be a man, about fifty years old, homeless, running around with a blue/ green purse. Lestrade thanks him and Sherlock gets back into the cab, heading home. He trudges up the stairs, again. He swings the door open to the flat, but is surprised by what he sees.

John stood at the table, smiling. On it was a full pan of lasagna and a beautiful and huge chocolate cake. Both of these things were Sherlock's favorite. He smiles, looking at his friend.

"Happy birthday, Sherlock." John says and Sherlock hugs him. The ex-soldier is shocked at first, but then gives in to the embrace.

"You remembered!" Sherlock exclaims, his eyes dancing. John notes that he hasn't seen Sherlock this happy in a very long time.

"Of course I did, Sher.! You're my best mate, how could I forget?"

"Well, everyone else did."

"Yeah, but I didn't. Plus, you don't want a present Sally and Anderson gave you."

"Good point." Sherlock says with a chuckle. They sit down, getting plates. John watches as Sherlock laughs and smiles, which makes him do the same. It baffled John that a cake and two words make his friend so happy. Well, Sherlock parents hadn't really taken care of him. His birthday probably never counted.

The first time John had made the younger man a cake for his birthday, Sherlock was shocked. That had made the blond haired man sad, so he always made sure to make Sherlock know that his birthday counted. They finish and eat the cake. John takes pictures, wanting to cherish that happy look on his friend's face. And those bright, dancing eyes.

Sherlock plops down onto the couch, rubbing his full stomach.

"My God, John, I'm not going to eat for a week!" He exclaims, sighing in a satisfied way. John smiles, turning on the telly. They watch TV and the older man gets up. Sherlock watches him. "Where are you going?"

"You'll see." His friend replies, running up to his bedroom. He comes back, hands behind his back. Sherlock raises an eyebrow, knowing that face. John hands him a box covered in bright red wrapping paper. "What's this?"

"Your present. Open it." The excited detective rips off the wrapping paper, gasping by it's content. It was a D. Albert and Fein hand crafted violin. Sherlock looks up at John, speechless. "This must have cost you a fortune!"

"No, it was only 1, 159 pounds." He answers with a shrug. The curly haired man shakes his head, observing his new treasure.

"Thank you so much, John." He breathes, running his hands across the smooth wood.

"You're welcome, mate."

"John, you're the best friend I've ever had. Actually, you're the first real friend I have ever had. No one has ever done anything this kind or amazing for me before in my life." He confesses to the ex-soldier. Sherlock gets up, testing out his new toy. He plays for a while, making John sleepy.

The detective stops eventually, his fingers and body tired and begging for rest. He says goodnight, heading to his bedroom. John smiles to himself, satisfied. He begins to clean the kitchen when he hears Sherlock clear his throat behind him. John turns, noticing the taller man was already in his pajamas.

"Yes, Sherlock?" He asks, putting the plates in the sink.

"I just wanted to, um thank you for all you did for me today." He scratches his curls nervously. This was a bit awkward for him.

"Yeah, it's no big deal."

"Actually yes, it is."

"How do you mean?"

"No one's ever done this for me." John nods, understanding. He felt sad for his friend, knowing that is was unfortunately true.

"What else are best friends for?" He smiles widely. Sherlock laughs, returning the expression.

"Thanks, John. Thanks a lot."

"No problem, now get to bed or you won't be able to solve crimes tomorrow." Sherlock nods and John pulls him into and embrace. The detective doesn't fight, happy to have John by his side.

"Goodnight, John." He says, heading into his room. The older man waves, watching his friend leave. No, not just his friend. His best friend.

Review, my friends!