All week long, Sherlock has been working you long and hard.
He wanted his cases solved within the same day.
While you repeatedly told him you wanted a break, he refused.
John had returned to the flat early in the morning, just as you and Sherlock entered.
Sherlock went off to his room immediately and you plopped down on the couch.
John looked at you from his chair.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asked.
“Just a bit tired, John,” you sighed.
You weren’t one to complain.
“How hard has he been working you?” he questioned.
“I’ve only gotten maybe three or four hours of sleep this entire week,” you admitted.
John turned slightly red in the face.
He went into Sherlock’s room and you heard shouting.
You looked down at yourself and realized you were still wearing your coat.
You removed it and hung it up, just as there was a bang from the room.
You ignored it, figuring Sherlock had dropped something again.
You sat on the couch just as the two men emerged from the room.
John was smiling and Sherlock was holding a tissue to his bloody nose.
“Is everything okay?” you asked.
“Y/N, it has been brought to my attention that today is your birthday. I would like to apologize for my lack of empathy and offer to do whatever you want for today,” Sherlock said.
You looked at John blankly.
“It’s not my birthday,” you said.
“Y/N, yes it is. Did you forget your own birthday?” he asked.
You facepalmed and rubbed your head.
“I guess i did,” you sighed.
You shook your head at yourself.
“Well, does that mean i can- OW!” Sherlock said.
You looked to see John glaring at Sherlock.
“You know what I want, Sherlock?” you asked.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I’ll tell you what i want, what I really really want,” you said.
“So tell me what you want, what you really really want,” he responded.
“Oh, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want,” you smirked.
“So tell me what you-,” Sherlock paused, “Oh, you sneaky sneaky girl.”
John bursted out with laughter and you could barely contain your own.
“I’m sorry, Sherlock,” you said.
“In all seriousness, what do you want me to do, so I can get this over with?” he groaned.
You could tell he was getting annoyed.
“Just one day of relaxation. No cases, no complaining, and no shooting the wall,” you told him.
He stared at you, wide eyed.
“Oh, don’t tell me that’s impossible for the great Sherlock Holmes?” John teased.
Sherlock muttered to himself briefly before turning to glare at you.
“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he sighed.
