A/N: HI! I know I promised this Chapter yesterday, but I got stuck and had planned on writing it out before I posted the first Chapter. As you can see, it didn't happen. I hope it was worth the wait!

Thanks to x-Pick'n'Mix-x, Jason Layton, Ana and Pikeru's Angel for your reviews! And to the reviewer who didn't sign in:

Ana: That's a great idea, I'll see if I can slot it into places, I definitely have a few ideas and could really see John doing that for Sherlock!

Now, lets see what Sherlock got John, shall we?

Sherlock signed out of the game John had given him, still smiling. He'd never gotten nice gifts at Christmas, and he tried to forget his Birthday.

He had to give John something back. He took up the normal position on his couch, letting his feet dangle over one end and resting his head on the arm of the other. He closed his eyes slowly.

"Sherlock? John?" Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs. "I hope your both decent!" There was a slight laugh afterwards, and Sherlock hitched a smile but didn't move.

"Ah, Mrs. Hudson…" John came down the stairs. "Come to talk about the rent again?"

"Yes, and I brought you some biscuits. I know Sherlock hasn't been eating recently, have you?" She asked him.

Sherlock re-opened his eyes slowly and looked at her.

"Not enough sleep either, your eyes are darker than usual." She tutted.

Sherlock just grunted a noise that was almost a word and closed his eyes again.

He focused on the darkness, and drowning out the sounds of everyone and everything around him.

John smiled at Mrs. Hudson.

"At last. I've been trying to get him to rest for days." He grinned at the sleeping figure on the couch. He walked over and draped Sherlocks coat over him. They didn't have any covers downstairs.

"Come on, we'll talk downstairs." Mrs. Hudson and John left the room quietly.

Sherlocks' eyes snapped open and he turned his head to the side. 7pm. 4 hours sleep. Great.

"Four hours wasted." He muttered, sitting up and frowning as his coat slipped down.

He'd dreamt about that terrible night at the pool, with John being strapped up to those bombs.

He stared at his coat, thinking about how it had tiny little tears in it from the explosion at the pool. Moriarty had obviously intended it to kill them, but John had grabbed Sherlock and thrown them both into the pool and kept them both to the walls so no debris landed on them.

The result? They were both fine, if not in large amounts of shock, and their coats were soaked and destroyed. Sherlock himself had complained mainly of the coat, and slipped into a sulk for days at how Moriarty got away, and his coat was ruined.

Sherlocks eyes lit up and he grinned. He knew exactly what to get John.

He threw on his coat and tied the scarf around his neck, mind still brimming with the new idea.

He bounded down the stairs. "Of out!"

"Oh, you're up. Brilliant." John stopped in front of him. "Can you get us something from the shops?"

Sherlock just raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't think so. It was a long shot anyway. Try not to get yourself killed or kidnapped." John told him.

"I always do. How boring would your life be if that happened?" He smiled and slipped past John.

"Don't wait up." He called as he left.

After 3 hours of searching through shops for what he wanted, Sherlock finally found what he was looking for. He gave his payments and left, agreeing to pick it up the next day.

He made a short call to Mycroft, if not somewhat grudgingly to ask a favour. He didn't really want to, but it seemed a good price for John.

He ambled back to Baker Street, proud of himself and sufficiently happy.

When he was almost at the door, Sherlock realised there was no point really. He wasn't tired, and there were probably a few more bodies at Barts.

He detoured and just let himself walk there at a slow pace. No one else was there, so he could take his time.

It got to 8am, Sherlock was still leaning over the microscope and comparing substances. He'd hacked into Lestrades inbox and found a few more cases and the bodies in the morgue.

"You been here all night?" John asked.

"Yup. Stole a few cases. Lestrade has a little less work to do. Too easy really." Sherlock didn't look up, still looking for something in the samples he'd taken.

"Have you eaten?"

"What day is it?"

"We're into Friday now."

"…I'm good."

"Sherlock. I didn't see you eat yesterday either. Come on." John walked over and pulled Sherlock away from the Microscope. "God, you don't weigh a thing!"

"John! I have to finish!"

"No you don't. No one else uses this lab. You're fine." John handed his coat over. "Let's go. You need food."

"No I don't." Sherlock tried to pull away.

"Sherlock! You're still human. You have needs."

"The mind is what's important, the rest is transport." Sherlock said, but John ignored him and pushed him out the door.

As soon as they walked through the door to their flat, Sherlock fell onto the sofa and turned to watch with a smile on his face as John took of his coat and went to put it on the back of the door.

"Sherlock…"

"Yes?"

"Why is my coat on the door and in my hand?"

"Merry Christmas, or Happy New Year. Depends on your outlook."

"You?"

"Yea. I had it made for you last night. This ones a bit tougher."

John slipped the Jacket on over his shirt. His old Jacket had been ruined in the explosions and on the cases either side of it, from falling over or clipping it against sharp edges.

The new one was exactly the same in looks. The Cord collar, the leather shoulder patch on the right side and on both elbows, four pockets, the six buttons and the rain jacket feel of it. It fitted perfectly, better than the old one.

"Hang on…you had it made for me? And when did you get it here? You were out all night and I was downstairs."

"When you came to look for me, Mycroft snuck in and dropped it of for me."

"You willingly called him?" John asked, shocked.

"It was worth it, but never again." Sherlock shrugged. "There's a pocket on your left inside the coat specifically designed to hold your gun and the material between the outsides is a kind of super-light mesh that is bullet resistant."

"How did you get this done? Must have cost tonnes!"

"The man owed me a favour, so I got a good deal."

"Wow. Thanks!" John grinned.

"I had to get you something in return, and I feel really bad about dragging you into all this. You've almost died so many times, I wanted to get you something to protect you a little more."

"Whoa…you really do care!"

Sherlock just smiled shyly and shrugged.

"Don't go thinking I've forgotten why we're here Sherlock. What do you want to eat?"

Sherlocks smile dropped.

A/N: This one is double the length, oops. I know it didn't really seem to be going anywhere, but this one kind of wrote itself. Do you think it was a good enough gift? Let me know, and PLEASE review.

I found online that Sherlocks' Birthday is the 6th January, so expect a One-shot on that day, and one for Holmes in the Robert Downey Jnr 1800 Sherlock-world.

Until then…you could send a review…

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! :D WOOO!

Doctorcoffeegirl