A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, I'm just visiting around with them.

This is also for my friend, KnightFury as he shares his birthday with Sherlock Holmes.

The stillness of the flat woke Sherlock early that morning.

As he pulled on his dressing gown, he remembered that today was the dreaded day. His birthday, the day of sentiment and well wishes hidden underneath the reminder that he was just getting older and going to die. Not that he rejected the idea, it was fact of course. It was just ironic and he didn't understand the importance of birthdays, they were just another day.

He walked through the flat, bracing himself and expecting John to pop out at him any moment with a present, and singing that ridiculous song.

He was puzzled that he couldn't find John anywhere in the flat and even more so that there was not a single trace of birthday evidence. After finding his mobile that he had left on the table, he saw that John had sent him a text saying that he had to go to the Locum early that morning and wouldn't be back till later that afternoon.

That was it. No 'Happy Birthday Sherlock,' no 'Look around for the present I hid for you' or anything.

Maybe he forgot? No, it's John, he would never forget... would he? Scowling, Sherlock tried to ignore the nagging thoughts and started looking nonchalantly around the small kitchen for any sign of the dreaded birthday supplies. Nothing in the cupboards or refrigerator. Further investigation under the living room furniture and in John's room and even under his bed proved that there was no trace of anything that seemed birthday-ish and that John had indeed forgotten.

Sherlock finally surrendered his search once he'd looked in every 'John hiding place' in the flat. Now miserably defeated, he shrugged dejectedly and pulled his dressing gown closer as he scowled at the skull, dutifully named Percy, that was sitting on the mantle.

"What are you looking at?" he said sharply to the accusing skull, "What do I care if he forgot? I despise birthdays!"

Sherlock stuck his hands in his pockets and looked disdainfully at the calendar that had a distinct, red circle drawn around today's date.

"I'm-I'm glad he forgot," he declared to the empty flat and taking the skull off the mantel, he lay down on the settee and tried not to acknowledge the disappointment that had crept over him.

"What do you know?" he muttered to the skull, "You're just an idiot. A dead idiot."

Sherlock picked up his mobile and for the next hour or so, he scrolled through his photos, trying to see what he done with the year that had gone by. Somehow, this moment of reflection just reinforced how big a role John played in his life now. He spent the rest of the day brooding on the settee, pretending and trying to convince Percy that he didn't care and eventually fell asleep in the middle of the argument.

When John came home that afternoon, he found Sherlock asleep on the settee, clutching the skull to his chest like a teddy bear. After hanging up his coat and laying a rather interesting looking box on the table, he went over and gently started to poke Sherlock's head to wake him up.

Waking up to someone steadily poking his head, Sherlock opened his eyes to see John standing above him. "Hi," John said, trying not to grin but failing entirely. Sherlock sat straight up as if he had been electrified, still clutching the skull to his chest. "Hi," he replied trying to look and sound causal and as if he didn't just spend the whole day on the settee with a skull.

"Sorry I was gone almost all day," John said, straightening his stiff back and looking around the flat, observing the slightly rearranged and upturned living room and the tiny dust bunnies scattered in Sherlock's hair.

"Did you lose something?" he asked, slightly amused as he guessed what had taken place earlier. Sherlock sighed, and standing, he walked over to the mantel, gently returning Percy to his royal spot.

"No," he replied, trying to sound bored and apathetic, but John could hear the touch of disappointment.

John tried not to smile as he thought about the box on the table. That's why he had been gone for so long. That afternoon had been his only chance to get it and he knew that Sherlock thought he had forgotten his birthday but was trying not to care.

"Did you have a good day?" John asked, trying to straighten up the flat and pick up the debris that had been thrown around by Sherlock's frustrated and in vain, treasure hunt.

Sherlock returned to the settee and laying back down, folded his hands and closed his eyes. "It was tedious and just like any other day," he lied, "I was on the website all day, but no new cases have come in."

He heard John walk into the kitchen and a few seconds later, something large and box like was placed on his lap. Opening his eyes in surprise he looked down at the gaily wrapped cardboard box in his favorite shades of purple with a gigantic black bow.

John grinned happily at him now, all pretense gone. "Happy Birthday, Sherlock, I hope it's worth the wait."

Sherlock gasped and clutching the box to his chest, he slid excitedly to the floor and dug into the wrapping paper, for once swept away in the moment, like any normal person. However, before tearing off the lid he paused, and slowly looked up at John, smiling up at his friend in sudden realization and appreciation.

"You were only pretending that you forgot."

John nodded and lowered himself to the floor on the other side of the box. "Yes," he replied, "and you were only pretending not to care."

"I think I do care," Sherlock softly admitted, running his hand over the lid. "I never used to but for some reason, I don't mind anymore."

"I know you do," John replied, "That's why I would never ever forget your birthday."

Speechless, Sherlock nodded as the sentiment that, maybe wasn't so bad to have just for today, overcame him and he opened the letter that was attached to the top of the box.

"Some assembly required"

His curiosity now even stronger, he lifted the lid and gasped in excited surprise as his saw the dismantled skeleton bones lying in wrapping paper. They were beautiful bones and all wonderfully intact. His long, slender fingers gently caressed the smooth surfaces. They were all there, except the skull.

Sherlock looked at John and back to the skeleton bones again. His eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing in shock. John could only laugh at his expression of amazement.

"There isn't a skull because I thought you might want Percy to have a body. He looks rather bored sitting on that mantle without a body so I thought you could put one together for him. It's a real skeleton that an old professor of mine used to use in med school. The skull was lost after it was thrown through a window in a fit of rage one day. I hope it's alright."

"Alright? It's perfect," Sherlock whispered still trying to find his voice, "It will fit Percy excellently! He will look fantastic attached to his new skeleton." Looking up, he grinned happily at John. "Thank you so much, John."

He suddenly laughed as he understood the note that came with box. "Some assembly required," he replied, still laughing. "I understand now. I will enjoy putting him together."

Standing stiffly, John looked down at his watch. "I missed my lunch break and I know you haven't eaten anything today. So how about we order some take away and then start putting Percy's body together?"

Sherlock nodded in agreement, realizing that he was actually very hungry. He accepted John's hand and let him help him to his feet. After ordering some Chinese take away, they sat Percy in the chair of honor so that he could watch them lay out his new body.

An hour later with empty take away boxes neatly stacked on the counter. They knelt on the floor and started to lay out the bones and their strategy of assembly. Sherlock was happily chattering away about the best method of going about putting a skeleton together.

"Thank you, John," Sherlock said as he laid out a right femur bone. "This is the best birthday present I have ever had."

Sherlock couldn't figure out what he liked the most; a new interesting puzzle or the fact that he had someone in his life who was just as excited to help him put it together.

John nodded and handed him a tibia, "You're very welcome, Sherlock. Happy Birthday, and no matter what anyone else says, I'm glad you were born."

Sherlock paused, and looked up at him in happy surprise. "Really? You are glad I was born?"

John smiled and handed Sherlock another bone."Yes I am," he simply replied and without another word they silently and peacefully went back to laying out the bones, while Percy watched on happily from his chair.

A/:N Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and all reviews are lovely.