A few days later, Sherlock was lying on the couch staring at the ceiling, his thoughts jumbled. What was the matter with him? Caitlin. That was it. He couldn't get her out of his head and she was invading his mind palace. How dare she. He frowned before hearing John open the door and walk in. Continuing to lie there, he folded his hands and tucked them under his chin, scowling at the ceiling until John spoke.

"This was sitting outside for you Sherlock."

Sitting up, his eyebrow raised as he curiously looked at the thin box on the table in front of him. It was very plain, a thin black ribbon tied around it, dark against the stark white of the box. Picking it up, he saw an envelope tucked under the ribbon, and pulled it out. The only writing on it were the letters SH in bold caps. Pulling out a piece of cardstock, he read,

For the man who has everything, but wants nothing. Here's something I thought you could use. Happy Birthday, Mr. Holmes.

-Caitlin

Pulling at the ribbon, Sherlock lifted the lid and inside the box sat a large stack of composition paper, a ball point pen lying on top.

"It's your birthday?! How does she know that, yet I don't?"

Looking up at John's exclamation, Sherlock grabbed the card that his flatmate now held, pulled on his coat, and left.

Stalking around London, Sherlock finally came to a stop, and sitting on a nearby bench, drew his eyebrows together in thought. Caitlin. First she gave him that kiss, and now this. Burying his face in his hands he grumbled. What was happening?! How did this woman worm her way into his thoughts? John was right. He'd never told her about his birthday. How did she even know-

"Mycroft."

Scowling at the thought of her even talking to his brother, no matter if she had been asking about him or not, the scowl deepened when he realized that he was feeling…jealous. Why should he care?

"I don't," he muttered to himself, growling when that annoying voice in his head sang,

'Yes you do-ooo!'

Getting up and pulling his coat tighter around himself to block the cold, Sherlock headed back to Baker Street.

After entering, Sherlock marched all the way up to 221C and barged in without knocking, scaring the life out of Caitlin.

"Sherlock! What are you-?!"

Caitlin was effectively cut off when he pulled her to him and crashed his lips on to hers. Falling into him, Caitlin grabbed his coat lapels, her eyes sliding shut, the grip on her arms loosening slightly. Pulling apart, Sherlock stared into her eyes and whispered gruffly,

"Damnit woman, what are you doing to me?"

Before Caitlin had a chance to answer, he pulled her into a kiss once more.

Later that evening, all three could be found in the boys flat, relaxing. Caitlin was reclining in her customary spot on the sofa crocheting again, while John sat typing away on his laptop, most likely making a new entry in his blog. Sherlock appeared to be lost in thought, although he always seemed to be. It had been getting quite uncomfortable for John these past few hours however. He had been trying to act as though he couldn't see Sherlock and Caitlin hastily throwing furtive looks back and forth at each other, but not speaking at all. Slamming his laptop shut John exclaimed,

"Alright enough! Don't think I haven't been seeing the looks the two of you have been giving each other! Whatever it is that's going on, talk it over or get out so I can work in peace!"

Caitlin flushed brightly, as a light pink tinged Sherlock cheeks. When no one spoke, John just sighed.

"I'm going for a walk. When I get back, this weirdness better be resolved."

As soon as he left, the two just stared at each other.

"Sooo…"

When nothing else was said, Caitlin just continued to talk.

"Is there a reason you burst into my apartment this afternoon to randomly make out with me?"

Clearing his throat, Sherlock murmured,

"I seem to be unable to get you out of my mind. I thought it might help."

Not knowing whether to be insulted or flattered, Caitlin just stared as Sherlock continued to speak.

"I confess that I seem to have some sort of feelings for you, what they are however, I do not know. I seem to be rather confused. That bothers me, for it's never happened before."

Caitlin gave him a small grin before responding.

"Would it help to say that I'm feeling almost the same way?"

Giving her a half smile, Sherlock replied,

"It doesn't hurt."

Letting out an amused sound, Caitlin watched as Sherlock settled back into his chair once more. Looking back to her crochet, a smile bloomed on her face when she heard a small,

"Thank you for the gift."

Not looking up from her work, she just murmured a soft 'you're welcome', before a much more comfortable silence settled back over the flat.