It was a normal day in 221B Baker Street. John drank his tea in the living room, reading the newspaper and Sherlock always darted between the microscope and his notes at the kitchen table. He had taken a case again that really seemed to be interesting for him; for three days he had worked without taking a break. John picked up his cup of tea, took a sip and put it back on the table, and then he continued to read. They had not talked to each other for the whole day, John was not even sure if Sherlock had noticed him when he had sat into the living room.

"This can't be…!"

Suddenly Sherlock hurried away from the kitchen table. John turned around to his flatmate, surprised where this sudden movement in Sherlock came from. Sherlock put on his jacket, closed it fast, then he threw his blue scarf around his neck. When he grabbed his long, dark coat in the hurry of his movement something fell out of it. John picked it up.

"You have lost your identity card."

But when he took a closer look at the little, shrink-wrapped square he noticed something.

"Hey, it's your birthday today!"

"And?" replied Sherlock and took his card back.

"Why didn't you say?" John asked.

"Why should I?" Sherlock answered drily.

"Birthdays are celebrated." John tried to explain.

"Why should I celebrate the day my mother has born me?" Sherlock asked directly. "It has not been a pleasant moment, neither for her nor for me."

John did not really understand. Even something usual like celebrating birthday was for Sherlock something completely incomprehensible.

"But in general you celebrate this day with presents and friends."

John somehow regretted to have used the word "friend" in front of Sherlock.

"Friends?" Sherlock said and smiled scornfully for a moment. "Apart from you I don't have any, as you know. Too many are just distracting me from my work."

John was not really sure what he should reply at this, but Sherlock had already vanished through the door and John could hear his steps on the stairs.

What was wrong about celebrating birthday, almost every normal person did that. Maybe Sherlock was just too busy at the moment and wanted to leave as fast as possible…

Three hours later, now it was about five o'clock in the afternoon, Sherlock came back to 221B. He was pleased with his enquiry; this case would have been solved in a few days. Sherlock listened for a moment when he opened the front door of 221B; he could hear voices up in his flat. Four persons, a vivacious but also a happy conversation. Sherlock went up the stairs, listening carefully to the voices; he knew them but what was that about? Under his weight one of the stairs creaked and suddenly the voices died away. Now Sherlock knew what was going on; this was just childish! He climbed up the stairs, opened the door and went into his flat.

"Happy Birthday!" John, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson and Molly said all together.

Sherlock did not even pay any attention to them. He pushed himself through the little crowd to throw his coat and scarf over the black armchair, he also took of his jacket and put on his blue dressing gown with which he laid down on the sofa to read the newspaper.

"Sherlock…" John at first said after a moment of silence.

Sherlock moved his head uninterested towards John what should mean "What?"

"Happy Birthday!" John repeated. "I thought I invite some people to celebrate since you have apparently never celebrated your birthday properly before."

Sherlock scrutinized for a moment those people that stood before him and then said, without stopping to read the papers:

"John, all those people had planned something else for today but were not able to tell you the truth."

Embarrassing silence.

"That's not true." Now Lestrade said defending.

Sherlock led drop the newspaper to the ground and now stood before the sofa while he looked into the crowd with his concentrated, grey eyes. His look stopped, of course, at first at Lestrade.

"You had a row with your wife and wanted to leave fast but then John's call came although you probably intended to hide yourself in a bar or similar."

His eyes focused on Molly.

"You are just here because you can't say no. In fact you got a date in a few minutes, so you better hurry up otherwise the man thinks that you are not coming."

Now his eyes went to Mrs. Hudson who already stood there with her mouth open.

"Mrs. Hudson, it's better when you continue to bake your cake, that's much more worthy then this."

It had taken the breath of everybody. At first Lestrade left the flat, than Molly with a really sad face and at last Mrs. Hudson who was not able to do anything else then to shake her head.

"Brilliant" John finally said sarcastically. "Brilliant! You have again managed it to bully all your friends out whom like you at least somehow!"

Sherlock sat back again on the sofa and picked up the newspaper from the ground.

"I told you that I am not celebrating."

John rolled his eyes, sighed quietly and wanted to go in his room but

"But thanks for the try."