Chemistry series - Bohrium
Sherlock counts his birthday amongst the most annoying days of year, surpassed only by Christmas holidays. Mostly because Mycroft feels compelled to pay him a visit on both occasions.
"If only he would give me a case," Sherlock complains, contradicting his previous statements on working for Mycroft and scowling at the parcel left on the mantelpiece.
Yes, John thinks, and that's the crux of the matter, with Sherlock's birthday coming so close after Christmas, he's never rewarded with a nice homicide as a birthday present - seems that the criminals are sentimental and simply don't do crimes.
Then Mrs Hudson requires something of Sherlock, of all things, and when he returns to the living room, John's nowhere to be seen and there's a sheet of paper on the table. A note in John's handwriting:
2-15-15-39;35-90-66;3-81;62-90-49;Be;92: 74-2-75; 95;53?
Sherlock feels excitement flooding his veins and the wheels of his brain ratcheting up to full speed.
A couple of minutes later he marches triumphantly into his bedroom to find his friend, grinning, holding a meticulously wrapped parcel behind his back. Sherlock doesn't scowl this time. The riddle made all this tedious birthday business actually bearable.
"Feeling better?" John asks.
"Definitely not hundred-and-seventhed," Sherlock murmurs amusedly and John's eyes scan the table above their heads to find the most satisfactory reply: 107 - bohrium.