#221three | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sandcobangevent · 4 months ago

Text

we're gonna party like it's your birthday!

by @alistair-theirins-tits and @lxvenderjewel

John wakes up on May 21st like any other normal day and pulls himself out of bed, groaning as his bones creak while he stretches his arms high and sighs.

He brushes his teeth, humming to himself, swishes mouthwash in his mouth and spits it out. He looks in the mirror, running a hand through his hair so it doesn’t look too awful.

He enters the kitchen for a morning coffee to see Mariana and Sherlock already up and awake, mugs in their hands, Mariana hissing in Sherlock’s ear. They both stand stick straight when John walks in.

“Morning,” he says, walking directly to the coffee machine, still half asleep. “Anything interesting? Any cases lined up, Mari?”

They both look at him a little bewilderedly, which throws him off. “What? Is something in my teeth? Christ’s sake, I just brushed my teeth…”

“N-No, nothing’s wrong, sorry,” Mariana stammers. “Don’t worry about us. Nope, no cases today, we’re pretty much free.”

“Neat,” John says, watching the coffee pour into the mug before dousing it in creamer. Sherlock makes a noise of disgust, and John grins.

“How can you stand to drink it like that? ” Sherlock asks, lip curled, and Mariana kicks him in the shin.

“Be nice!” she hisses. Sherlock sighs.

John’s thrown again. When has Mariana ever cared about Sherlock teasing him? Usually she just… laughs it off?

John sips his coffee and looks at the two of them, waiting for one to initiate a conversation. Mariana and Sherlock exchange glances, glances that he cannot at all parse out.

“Are you both okay?”

“Can you go get groceries?”

John and Mariana speak at the same time, and John snorts.

“Is that what you two were so worried about? Yeah, I’ll go get them,” he says.

“Yeah, yep, definitely that, we’re just so nervous today, John,” says Mariana.

“Nervous? What for?” he asks.

“Erm. Nothing. Just, er, jumpy.” Sherlock says, and Mariana’s face goes right into her hands.

It’s weird. Usually John is able to get a read on whatever’s bothering the other two, but today he just can’t make it out. Is today special to one of them, or what? What is he missing here?

He resolves to investigate this more when he gets home. Maybe Sherlock and Mariana have just had a fight, or something, and they need to walk it off. Yeah, that’ll do for now.

He goes downstairs, pulling on a jacket. He looks down at himself– graphic tee and sweatpants. Yeah, that’s fine.

He looks next to him for a moment, and the unused coat closet is open, for some reason. If he peeks in, he can see– is that a banner of some sort? And tinsel? And–

“Watson, are you out yet?” Sherlock calls from upstairs.

“Oh, you want me out that bad?” John teases.

“ Yes,” Sherlock yells.

“ Sherlock!” Mariana yells at him, and John hears a shout of pain. He snorts to himself, and then pushes himself out the door. Unfortunately there are things to do today.

The walk to the grocery store is about 10 minutes, so fairly close. It’s a nice day out– not too wet, like it tends to be in May, not too hot either. John lets himself linger while he walks, treats himself to London at its best.

It’s when he gets to the grocery store that he realizes Mariana never gave him a grocery list. Bollocks.

He gets his phone out and shoots a text to the group chat Mariana made ages ago, that’s become their primary mode of communication at this point.

the 221three

Hey what do you want me to get Mariana

Boss Lady: oh shit let me check the fridge

Master Detective: Can you get pasta? I think we’re out of pasta.

I’m fairly sure we’re not out of pasta actually

Master Detective: I couldn’t find any pasta in the pantry, though?

Boss Lady: that’s because we put it in the cabinet

Master Detective: Ah.

Boss Lady: right john can you get eggs milk honey jam bread and pesto sauce

Boss Lady: and dill pickle chips

Dill pickle chips??? What?????

Boss Lady: it’s like upgraded salt and vinegar chips

Master Detective: Wait. Ms Hudson.

Master Detective: I don’t like pesto.

Boss Lady: yes well i do so john get me pesto sauce

Master Detective: I hope you’re not planning on using my penne for that.

Boss Lady: ugghhhhh john get elbow pasta at the store

Yes ma’am 🫡

Boss Lady: what is that i just see a box

Right I forgot you were an android user. Loser

Boss Lady: bullying this is bullying

Grinning to himself, John puts his phone in his pocket and grabs a shopping basket.

Groceries usually don’t take very long— until the pesto, that is, because he’s looked all over the pasta aisle for them and he still can’t find any.

He sighs, taking a last glance at the aisle, ready to give up and face Mariana’s wrath when he gets home when he sees a familiar face passing by his aisle.

“Oi, Stammo!” he calls, grinning.

Stammo slowly walks backwards, holding a cake in his arms. A big one, at that.

“Hey, John,” he says, his face doing a gymnastic routine of emotions before settling on being nervous but pleased.

“How are you? How’s Nadia?” John asks.

“I’m well, she’s great, yeah,” Stammo says, smiling at the floor. John would punch him in the shoulder but well. He’s holding a giant cake. Best not to do that.

“What’s the cake for?” he asks.

“Er– Nadia had a craving–?” Stammo says, hesitantly. “Yeah– she had a craving for cake.”

“That looks more like it’s for a party, though, doesn’t it?” John says, raising his eyebrows. “She wants a cake that big?”

“Hey, who am I to judge,” Stammo shrugs. John nods sagely. “Anyway, I’ve got to go– she’s going to kill me if I stay any longer.”

“Tell her I say hello!” John calls as Stammo scurries away. He sighs, smiling. Stammo’s always so fun to talk to, even if he seemed a bit in a rush today. He looks up and–

Ah. There’s the bloody pesto.

The rest of the trip isn’t noteworthy, really– the rest of the groceries are easy to find and he has a bit of a row with the self checkout machine but that’s generally what happens when he goes shopping by himself– and he gets back home to 221B in 20 minutes.

He knocks on the door, but no one answers. He rings the doorbell, but no one answers.

Odd.

He checks the doorknob and for some reason it’s been left unlocked. He has the distinct memory of locking the door.

He pushes in anyway, ready to smash the bottle of pesto over someone’s head if he has to. The lights are all off downstairs and slowly, he makes his way to the steps, grabbing onto the handrail and looking around as if he can see anything in the first place.

“Sherlock? Mariana?” he calls into the darkness. “Where are you two?”

Silence. Utter silence.

He opens the door to 221B, fearing the worst. The lights are still off.

He turns them on. Distantly he muses that he ought to have turned the lights on downstairs first, but he’s already up here, isn’t he? He survived.

The lights turn on with a slight flicker. He shuts his eyes and prepares himself, then he opens them again, and–

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOHN!” a bunch of voices yell. Sherlock and Mariana are in front of a large banner with the same words written on them, and the cake from the store is on the coffee table lying ready to eat.

In the kitchen are Stammo and Nadia, presumably having just finished cooking something, and Archie races up to him, licking his feet.

“Wha…?” John says. “Wh– What’s going on??”

Everyone’s faces freeze.

“It’s… your birthday, John,” Sherlock says, slowly. “This is a birthday party.”

“It’s my– what? I thought that was tomorrow,” John says. “It’s the 21st.”

“It most certainly is not.” says Sherlock, incredulous. “It’s the 22nd.”

“Erm? What? Let me check–” John struggles his phone out of his pocket. He literally opened his phone today, he cannot have missed the actual bloody fucking date–

But, to his abject horror, he did.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. He missed it. He forgot.

“Er– oh my god–” he huffs a laugh. “I– is this why you two were looking at me like I was completely insane this morning?”

“Well, I wouldn’t describe it as that–”

“Yes.”

Mariana kicks Sherlock in the shin again, and he lets out a low groan of pain.

“You don’t need to kick him,” John says, smothering giggles behind his hand.

“He’s being rude! It’s your birthday!” she pouts.

“Can’t believe you forgot your own birthday, Watson,” Sherlock scoffs.

“Well– I– I’ve been busy! Lately! I stayed up until like two last night editing!” he says, defensive.

“Goodness. Take a break,”

“You’re one to be talking,” John snipes.

“Excuse me?!”

“Anyways, Mariana, thank you,” he says, steamrolling forward, “This is so nice, I can’t imagine how much planning it must’ve taken.”

“Oh– me? Don’t thank me,” she stammers, crossing her arms.

“Why not?” John asks.

“Well, Sherlock did most of the planning, I just sent invitations,” she says.

“ Sherlock?” John says, eyes widening.

Sherlock is looking at the floor, trying to hide behind his curls.

“Was nothing, really,” he mumbles.

“Oh, Sherlock–” John steps over Archie and strides to the coffee table, wrapping Sherlock in a tight hug. “This is so nice. Thank you.”

“Really, it was nothing,” he repeats, cheeks darkened. “Happy birthday, John.”

They stand like that for a moment, John’s face buried in Sherlock’s shoulder. God, to think he forgot– and Sherlock remembered– and planned a party?

He shall not get teary at this here birthday party, no matter how much of a fight it takes.

“This moment is nice and all, but I’m really hungry, so can we please light the candles?” Nadia calls from the kitchen.

There is laughter, and then there is cake.

______________

Check it out on AO3 too!

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #john watson #sherlock holmes #mariana ametxazurra #event #fanart #fanfiction #flash bang #flashbang event

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