Happy Birthday!- Sherlock X Reader

It was your going to be your birthday. Sherlock wanted to do something special for you because, quite frankly, without you he probably would have died from overdose by now. He checked off things, and crossed things off in his mind palace,

 "A card? Should get one even though it is cliché. A present? Of course, but what? Hugs? well maybe I'm not a very good with that sort of thing. Kissing? I don't know. A trip somewhere?" He thought to himself as moved metal pictures around in his Mind Palace board.

You walked into the Living room where Sherlock was sitting on the couch. You smiled at him brightly, knowing that he was deep in thought about something. You knew that your birthday was coming up but you didn't know if Sherlock would remember or even care; he was very unpredictable. His head shot up and he smiled at you,

 "Hello dear, could you make me some tea please?"

You nodded and walked into the kitchen. He actually said please; that surprised you. You hummed as you got the tea down from the top cabinet. 

He watched you contently, then it hit him. You loved to paint. Everyday you had spent hours down in your flat or somewhere in the British Countryside painting. He knew someone he could get some really good paints, brushes, and such from; they owed him a serious favor.

You finished making the tea for your dear Sherlock. You poured the tea carefully into his teacup and carried out to him. You handed it to him and he took it saying,

 "Thank you."

You sat on the couch and turning on the Telly, drawing up your knees and, changing the channel to a Avengers movie that was on. Sherlock stood and grabbed his coat from the back of the door,

 "I need to pop out for a bit, I will be back in a bit dear," He smiled. You grinned and he left.

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Sherlock briskly walked down the streets of London, searching for his friend, Perte. His name meant loss in French, how ironic. He owned a small hole-in-the-wall shop and had collected lots of really good paints for his hobby that never took off. He located it quickly and rushed inside. Perte was a small man who was only four feet tall. He was bald and had little bushes for eyebrows. 

 "Ello, Mr. Holmes! Come to buy anything?" He greeted Sherlock.

 "I need you to repay me for saving you from that murder charge," Sherlock said bluntly.

 "Ah, I see. What do you need?"  Perte questioned.

 "All your paint and paintbrushes, and canvases."

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The Avengers movie was over and you had decided to take a nap on the couch. When you awoke, a note was on the coffee table next to you,

 'Come outside, bring a jacket." It commanded you. You laughed as Sherlock had obviously left it. His handwriting was so neat and perfect, usually. You hopped up and grabbed you jacket and headed out of flat and down to the curb outside, where Sherlock was waiting with a limo. You stopped and gawked for a moment. Lucky Sherlock, his brother was the British Government; he could very easily get a limo. Sherlock opened the door to the limo for you and you climbed inside. It was very posh, with cream seats and walls.  It even had a bar with wine bottles. Sherlock took your hand in his and you both had a glass of wine.

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The limo slowed to a stop and Sherlock got out and held the door open for you. He shut the door and limo drove off.

 "Right this way, _______, close your eyes!" Sherlock said, the excitement pouring out of him.

You shut your (e/c) orbs and Sherlock led you up a small hill. After a ways he stopped and said,

 "Open your eyes _______."

You looked out and saw the beautiful St James's Park Lake. Behind the trees and lake you could see the London Eye and several other huge, beautiful buildings. Not only that but a new painting easel, a new bright white canvas, and a huge collection of the best paints money could by sat on top of a table next to it.

 "Happy Birthday ______," He said. You looked up at him happily; you where at a loss for words.

Then he leaned in and kissed you.