Birthday? Sherlock remembered Christmas passing, possibly New Year, but had it been a week since then already? Or had so little time passed? He takes out his communicator and checks the date. Indeed, January 6th. He'd been caught up in his work and the move, so holidays hadn't cushioned him like they normally did. That and the shift in dates from home didn't help matters.

Either way, Sherlock rarely made much of a to-do about his birthday-- just another day. But to see John go out of his way for something so trivial as this, and for him, it allows Sherlock's cynicism to soften. He's easy to please when things almost seem normal again.

"Ah. Dim sum. Your taste has improved." Of course, he knows John ordered it because it was Sherlock's favorite. Sherlock still isn't easily able to express gratitude, even when he feels it.