Experiments (Sherlock BBC- Johnlock Fanfic)

15- Sherlocks Birthday

My loves, I'm going away for a week and a half, so no updates till then. Maybe. I might scab some Internet.

For now, enjoy! This was really fun to write so I hope it's fun to read too!

-John-

Donnas enthusiasm was exhausting. I hadn't properly talked to or seen Sherlock in four days, since he'd been spending all of his time in the lab or Scotland Yard. He was only home in the early hours of the morning. During these hours he had turned the walls of the flat into maps, laced with photos and scribbled notes and string and thumb tacks.

Sherlock had wrapped himself up in his work, and there was no way to know how he would react to Donnas party. She had been frantic all day, trying to decorate our flat and cook food, whereas I had been hesitant to help. I didn't think the party was a good idea, especially because I had no idea how Sherlock would react.

'John! John! Are you sure we can't take this stuff off the walls? I need to hang the balloons!'

'No... no Donna lets put them on the doorways instead?'

With a huff she handed me streamers and barked some instructions for where to hang them. The smell of food was distracting though, and I went to go sneak a bite.

When I entered the kitchen I was surprised to see masses of food on multiple plates.

'Donna?' I asked hesitantly, 'How many people have you invited?'

'Well as much as people don't like Sherlock, a lot of people do.'

She bit her lip.

'Yes but how did you invite them?'

'Damn it... don't be mad ok? I went through the contacts on his phone and the commenters on your blog. About the only person I couldn't easily find an address for was this Irene lady? Did they date?'

I frowned.

'It's best not to talk about that. Especially with him.'

Donna tutted.

'Look I know he hasn't been home in ages. I've been trying to text him but he doesn't answer. So I have a plan for getting him to show up,' she smiled menacingly.

Donna was starting to get on my nerves.

'What on earth do you have planned that could tear him away from his work?'

'Nothing, don't worry! Although I'm gonna need to nick your phone. Now get back to work!'

With a sigh I continued pinning the balloons up.

Within a couple of hours the flat was almost recognizable. champagne sat on every surface and streamers caked the walls. Through the throngs of laughing people I could see Donna gesturing wildly at me. I made my way over to her.

'John he's coming! He answered the message I sent!' she handed my phone back to me. 'Quick, turn the lights off and tell everyone to hide!'

With a sigh, I put down my drink and turned off the lights, making a few people scream.
I sat down unenthusiastically behind a chair, and within a few minutes I could her his heavy footsteps running up the stairs.

'John!' I heard him call frantically. 'John where are you!' The door flew open and I could see his tall form in the darkness.

'John' he panted, flicking the light on. Sherlock stood, tense in the doorway. His back was stopped and his hair was mussed. His eyes were bloodshot and hollow, dark bags contrasting greatly with his pale skin. His eyes flicked around the room frantically. As everyone else stood up and yelled 'Happy Birthday' he flinched.

I stood up slowly and his eyes caught mine. He covered the space between us in two long steps.

'Why did you do this?' he asked me in a low voice.

I stuttered.

'Actually Sherlock this is my fault. I set this up and sent you that message saying that John was in trouble. But now you're here, and so is everyone else who loves you, so enjoy it.'

She smiled at him and caressed his arm. Sherlock nodded curtly and made his way to Lestrade (probably to talk about the case).

I had a good evening. Sherlock seemed to tolerate people and even smiled a few times. We hadn't talked properly since he kicked me out of the crime scene but the tension was barely noticeable.

Sherlock seemed mildly pleased with his presents, except the cookbook Mrs Hudson gave him, which made him frown. I thought I noticed him looking with confusion when he realized there was no present from me there, but it was probably my imagination.

At the end of the night I said goodbye to all the guests as Sherlock stood looking out the window. As I closed the door for the last time, the flat felt dark and empty. Wordlessly I crept up to my room to retrieve his present. When I returned back downstairs, Sherlock was still looking out the widow.

I cleared my throat. He didn't turn around.

'Sherlock... look I don't know what's going on with us and why you don't want me near you but I got you this and I hope you like it.'

I put the present down on his chair and turned to leave.

'Wait John,' his voice cracked on my name.

He turned around, his eyes hollow and his face slim and angular. He studied my face and pulled me into a hug. He smelt clean and masculine, and I could feel his fast heartbeat. My arms curled around his back to pull him closer to me.

'John I want you with me. All the time. I promise.' He said over my shoulder. I pulled away from him.

'That contradicts everything that happened in the past few days!' I cried.

He rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

'That's because you're a distraction John! I can't stop thinking about you!' he yelled.

I took a few steps back and his eyes softened.

'John I didn't mean to...'

'Open your present Sherlock.'

He looked at me one last time before he ripped the wrapping off it. He stood still for a few moments as he examined it.

'John,' he whispered.

I smiled at him.

'Go on. Play something for me?'

He lifted the violin up to his cheek. It was made of a shiny dark oak, with beautiful accents. On the back it was engraved 'For Sherlock.'

I swear I could see tears in his eyes as he played a hauntingly slow, beautiful melody. His eyes locked with mine and I saw a tear slip down his cheek. I reached over and wiped it off with my finger and he stopped playing.

He put the violin down and wrapped his cold hand over mine, looking at me intently, vulnerably.

The next thing I remember was falling asleep to the sound of a violin.