AN: Hi! Thank you all for your reviews! You guys rock! And since you guys asked so nicely I've decided to update this one. The '12 Days' prompt seems to be very popular. So, I've decided to give it a shot. Enjoy!

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a partridge in a pear tree

John came home one evening from the surgery, dead tired, and in dire need of tea and peace. It seemed however he might not get the last one. Sitting in the middle of the living room, in a cage, was a little brown bird. It made a little chirping noise before settling back down. John looked around for certain genius to come around and explain.

Lo and behold, Sherlock entered the flat and sat on the couch, examining the bird. And all without a word to John. John stared at Sherlock patiently waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, John spoke up.

"Sherlock, why is there a bird in our flat? Does Mrs. Hudson know about it?"

Suddenly Sherlock shot off the couch as if he'd been stuck by a pin. "It's for an experiment," was all he would say before disappearing into the kitchen.

John listened as Sherlock moved about the kitchen and winced as he heard glass break. He sighed. He wasn't getting his tea either then.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: two turtle doves

John thought the date with Sarah had gone fairly well this time and returned quite happy until he saw the newest additions to the flat. Two turtle doves. Sitting in a cage. On his chair. He cursed Sherlock under his breath. He looked back at the doves; they were preening each other's feathers.

"Sherlock!"

"It's an experiment," Sherlock's voice came from the kitchen, "They'll be gone soon enough,"

"They won't be breeding, will they?"

Sherlock briefly poked his head out from the kitchen.

"Nonsense, John, they're both male,"

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: three French hens

The partridge and the doves had been relatively quiet. But at two in the morning it was rather difficult to ignore the clucking. And when John woke up with a live chicken on his chest he decided he was going to have to talk to Sherlock about this ongoing experiment.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: four calling birds

When Sherlock attempted to bring in four more birds, both John and Mrs. Hudson put their foot down. It was getting to be too much. There wasn't enough room for all these birds. Other residents were beginning to complain about the noise. Not to the mention the smell. Oh, God, the smell.

After some arguing and threatening, the birds were cleared out that day. And Mrs. Hudson made chicken for dinner.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: five golden rings

John had been wary about opening the fridge since the day he found a head in it. And it didn't stop there. There were various body parts and fluids in the fridge at different times. It was like living in a horror house. But John decided to risk it this morning and at this point didn't think there was anything that could surprise him. Boy, was he wrong. Laying between the egg carton and milk was a hand with five golden (if a bit gaudy) rings. John didn't know whether it was the rings or the fact the hand clearly belonged to a female that made it rather disturbing to look at.

He closed the door. Takeaway it was then.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: six geese a laying

John nearly screamed in frustration when he was greeted by the sight of six geese wandering around the flat.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock looked up from the computer, unconcerned by the goose that had settled in his lap. Giving him his best 'I was in the military' glare, John growled,

"Three words: Goose. Down. Pillows."

The birds were moved to a different location that day.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: seven swans a swimming

John could feel his blood pressure rise at the sight of seven swans in the living room. It was only when he took a moment to realize that the swans weren't moving. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that these swans were rather realistic looking decorations. It made John wonder what kind of experiment Sherlock was conducting this time.

"Our victim was rather eccentric."

John jumped and looked around. He nearly laughed at the sight of Sherlock crouching between two swans.

"Victim?" John questioned.

"From the latest case," Sherlock answered, waving over at the case file on the desk.

John breathed a sigh of relief.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: eight maids a milking

John stared at the eight cartons of milk sitting on the table. And he wondered for the hundredth time that week how Sherlock functioned as a human being. Doing the shopping shouldn't be this difficult. He sighed and picked up a carton, staring at the pretty Dutch maid milking a cow on the front. And not only did he pick up more milk then either of them needed, he managed to get Dutch milk going by language used on the carton.

"Note to self: never let Sherlock do the shopping,"

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: ten lords a leaping, nine ladies dancing…

"I don't care if you can't dance well. It's fine, c'mon,"

Sarah pulled him onto the to the center of the room where others were dancing. He smiled sheepishly as she placed her hands on his shoulders. The hospital was throwing a Christmas party and Sarah had insisted he had come. He was glad that he did, though how Sherlock managed to get himself dragged into this, he'd never know. He looked over Sarah and immediately spotted him.

Molly had managed to drag him on to the dance floor as well (John imagined bribing him with corpses had been involved). They were positioned the same as him and Sarah were, only Sherlock looked rather awkward and confused. John chuckled and returned his attention to Sarah. She was smiling at him.

"Having a good time?"

"Oh God, yes,"

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping…

John was rather suspicious when he came from work to a quiet, experiment free flat. A little less when Sherlock came down ready to go out.

"We have a case?" John asked.

"Hm? Oh, no, sadly. Mrs. Hudson got us two tickets to a play in the London Theatre,"

"And?"

"We're going," he answered simply, going out the door.

"Really?" John asked disbelievingly, following him.

"Yes. Oh don't look at me like that. I've been to plays. Not all are boring, especially if the music is good. Besides, you like plays, don't you?"

"Yes," John admitted.

"Good. And you can consider this your Christmas present from me,"

John snorted. He knew it. "Cheap bastard,"

"Merry Christmas to you, too, John," he replied with a smirk.

"Merry Christmas, Sherlock,"