It's the birthday of kate_lear, who's become one of the lights of Sherlock Holmes fandom. To wish her, I wrote this tiny ficlet and borrowed some of the OCs from her delightful story Winter's Delights, even though she slashes Sherlock and John and I don't. Hopefully this still works. Happy birthday, honey!
John was sipping champagne, surrounded by increasingly rowdy detective sergeants and detective inspectors, when his phone buzzed. He vaguely recognised the number, and thought it must be another New Year's greeting - from another doctor at the surgery, perhaps. He pressed the button to see the message.
Happy New Year, gorgeous! His birthday's the sixth - don't let him forget it. Counting on you to make it spectacular. EH
All at once, John was out of the loud NSY offices and back at Sherlock's Aunt Octavia's house. He could only imagine how the Holmeses en masse would celebrate a birthday, and all of the strategems Sherlock would have devised to escape the festivities. Evander would probably have the flat decorated with perfect elegance, silver and blue balloons and ribbons, while Melliflua would no doubt have gone the opposite route and chosen exuberance in as many colours as possible.
But Sherlock's parents would have found a happy medium, surely? They - ah! he had it!
Four days later, John was cursing himself out for setting himself an impossible task.
But the day after that, he had Sherlock's wide and delighted smile to remember. Tootling - slowly and carefully - through "Happy Birthday" on a clarinet bought at a secondhand shop apparently counted for Sherlock, who was a madman anyway, as the best gift ever. Silly bugger.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think.