Disclaimer: Sherlock and John are not my property, obviously. Just writing this for fun and because today is Valentine's Day.

Valentine's Day. Sherlock didn't know such a day existed and if he ever did, he had already deleted the superfluous information on his mental calendar, for sure. John Watson, however, knew all about it, as it would have been expected from someone normal like him, in touch with the world and in terms with everyone who surrounded him. Well, almost everyone. Sarah had broken up with him in the last week and therefore, he felt glad that Sherlock had no idea what Valentine's Day was. That way, his only deduction about John being sulky would be due to the fact that his girlfriend had broken up with him just a few days ago, and not also because he was going to be alone on Valentine's Day, not being able to go out without seeing lovey-dovey couples everywhere. He would just watch crap telly the whole day, grab a hot cup of tea and seat in his favorite chair, taking a peek at Sherlock while he was working on his (John's) laptop during the day.

No. Wait. Did he just think that?

«Taking a peek at Sherlock?»

The breakup with Sarah must have done him worst than he imagined.

He shrugged off the feeling and left 221B Baker Street in a quick pace (he no longer needed his cane), heading for the local supermarket because, once again, there was no milk in the fridge. Just what did Sherlock do to the milk every single day? He couldn't possibly drink five whole cartons of it at once, especially taking into account that he preferred John's tea when working on an experiment or case. Speaking of Sherlock, he had been locked up in his room ever since the previous day, a funny burning smell creeping from it every time John walked past its door. Sherlock said it was just one of his experiments and John prayed he would still find their flat as he left it when he came back.

As John entered the supermarket, he noticed piles of Valentine's Day gifts on display everywhere on the entrance, from chocolates to lovely notebooks (quite sickening, in John's opinion), flowers and actual mobile phones and it crept through his mind that Valentine's Day was a symbol of capitalism, not so much of love and relationships.

Well, never mind that, he was just being bitter. Not about Sarah, though. He had actually felt pretty relieved to break up with her, yet he could not pinpoint exactly why he continued to act sulkier and sulkier by the day and why he sighed like a smitten teenager all the time, especially when he was in the flat.

He grabbed a whole pack of milk cartons (hoping they would be enough to prevent him from having to go to the supermarket for a while) and headed for the cash registering machine. That was until he was stopped by a display of chocolate boxes that seemed to remain untouched, in comparison to the products from all the other displays. They were, indeed, plain and dark-blue with a discreet bow on top, hence the fact why people would not buy them for a colorful celebration such as Valentine's Day (John felt himself tut at his own thought). Grabbing one of the multiple untouched boxes, he finally paid for the contents of his curious and minimal shopping basket and left the supermarket, thinking that he was going to share the chocolates between him and Sherlock, (that is, if he wanted some) since he was paying for it with the consulting detective's credit card.

However, life works in mysterious ways and so does work (even though the latter seems to function based on annoyance, sometimes) and, as John settled the milk cartons inside the fridge (turning his face away from a severed hand kept in a Tupperware in one of the shelves) and got ready to attack his share of the chocolates, he heard his mobile phone ring.

"Damn you, Sarah." He said, after he finished taking the call.

One of the doctors in the clinic was taking a day off (he didn't need to be Sherlock to guess why) and he was asked to fill in for him. It was his duty, of course, yet he could not help but feel that Sarah might have been behind that just to mess up with him after their breakup.

John left the flat, once again, only this time his thoughts were filled with vivid swearing words.

He came home much, much later. Another doctor had asked for a day off and Sarah did not bother to ask one of the other off-duty doctors to come to work, leaving John to attend a massive amount of patients, wearing him out terribly. When he got home he just wanted a cup of tea and to eat his box of chocolates while snuggling up in his favorite armchair with his favorite pillow (the one with the United Kingdom's flag on it).

He did neither, as he could not expect what was about to happen. As he entered the flat, he found Sherlock seating in the sofa, his knees to his chin and something in his lap. He seemed to be eating something and, even more strangely, he seemed to be honestly enjoying it. Sherlock never enjoyed food; he found it to be a nuisance and a stupid necessity of his body rather than a pleasure.

"Hello, John."

He just grunted in response and threw his jacket somewhere (he aimed for his armchair but was not sure it actually reached it) heading for his box of chocolates, which he had conveniently left on top of the kitchen table, waiting for him, only to find an empty space where it had been lying some hours ago. He felt himself sigh again, this time of exasperation, and, once more, he did not need to be Sherlock to guess what the consulting detective was eating in that precise moment.

"Sherlock, did you see the box I left here?" He asked, standing in front of the kitchen table, hoping the detective would take the hint in his voice tone that he was not pleased about getting his chocolates stolen from him.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I did. Thank you very much John, no one ever got me anything for Valentine's Day. Not that that matters, but well, I also liked the cheesy cards that came with it."

John felt his eyes widen. Sherlock was already eating the chocolates and he knew about Valentine's Day. But never mind that - cheesy cards?

John walked to the living room and found Sherlock in the same position as when he had entered it a few minutes ago, devouring some more chocolates with a strange unusual eagerness.

"Yes, cheesy cards. I did think they were out of character, yet, as you know already, I am a high-functioning sociopath so-"

John yanked the box from his lap, startling Sherlock into silence. Revolving his fingers through its contents (Sherlock had put on an annoyed face as a response to the gesture) he finally found the small golden and silver cards Sherlock was talking about, stuffing the box in his lap once again. Sherlock then proceeded to eat the remaining chocolates.

John read the little cards to himself, standing in the middle of the living room, with his back to Sherlock. The round golden card said "Sweet Love - All my heart all the time" whilst the oval-shaped silver one had the engraving "Being with you makes me feel so happy". He felt his face growing warmer and warmer and wondered how he should face Sherlock after that. What did he mean about liking the cards? Did he actually amuse the consulting detective even more than usual or was it something else…?

He made up his mind quickly, finding out, at last, why he sighed like a lovesick teenager whenever he was in the flat and why Sarah broke up with him. He turned to Sherlock, walked in his direction, getting close to him in two long strides and let his mouth do the rest. He, after all, had not eaten his share of the chocolates, so he might as well claim them as his, or what was left of them. Along with Sherlock.

A.N. I hope the readers enjoy this fic. I wrote it for fun because of a plot bunny that attacked me about a month ago. That is because the chocolate box described in the fic actually exists and it did come with those very cheesy cards. My friends and I bought it for a lecturer at college (not to bribe her! We wanted to thank her for helping us out with a big project we had for lab class) and fortunately discovered the cheesy cards before giving it to her, removing them at once! I can't describe how much we've all laughed about that, imagining what might have happened if we had forgotten the cheesy cards attached to the bow in the box.