mr match

I Hate Christmas - Sherlock x (y/n)

Word count: 1784

Warnings: none

“Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson called from downstairs. “It’s (y/n)!”

Sherlock hurried down the stairs as quickly as he could. “Ah, (y/n). Finally. John and Mary are preparing dinner upstairs and I’ll be heading out for a bit.”

“Sherlock!” You said, exasperated. “You promised you’d stay. Even if you had a case. It’s Christmas for Christ’s sake.”

“I hate Christmas.” He said with a sneer. “It brings about carolers and holiday cheer.”

“Oh, Sherlock. Promise me you’ll still come home for dinner and presents.”

“Food is for the weak and I told everyone not to get me anything. I also did not get anything for anyone else…” He said trailing off.

“Sherlock…”

“Fine. I promise I’ll be home for dinner and presents.” He said rolling his eyes. “Even if I don’t eat and I don’t have presents.”

“Good boy.” You said smiling brightly. You bounced into the building away from the cold, chilling air of London. Sherlock moved past you and into the freezing air.

“I’m not a boy (y/n). I’m a man. A very smart one at that.” He said quickly, as if in a rush, which to be honest he probably was. He then briskly walked away. Mrs. Hudson gave you a sad smile.

“Sorry about him dear. That’s Sherlock though. Always dashing about. Anyhow, might you come up for a spot of tea? John and Mary’s food smells so delicious.”

You smiled kindly at her, “Of course, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you.”

Time Skip

“Mrs. Hudson!” Sherlock’s loud voice rang from downstairs. “I’m back for Christmas dinner.” He said in a disgusted tone you could tell he wasn’t really trying to hide. He walked upstairs quickly, taking the steps two at a time. He walked past you hastily, using his coat to conceal something that he was carrying. “Mrs. Hudson, John, (y/n) don’t wait up. I’ll be in my room wrapping things up. I’ll be back in a wink.” He said winking at you. You blushed profusely. Trying to cover it up, you said, “Shall we start eating?”

“Of course.” John said with a happy smile.

“Mary, the pie looks delicious.” You said to her.

“Oh, I didn’t make it. John did. He’s a great baker.” She said bragging slightly about her wonderful husband.

“Well then John, it looks simply divine.” You said excited to dig in to the wonderful looking food.

Time Skip – After Dinner

“Oh, the meal was so scrumptious.” Mrs. Hudson commented, a little bit sleepy from the meal.

“It was.” You said, a bit sleepy yourself. “It was too bad Sherlock didn’t eat anything.” You said clearing the last of the plates from the table. As if on cue Sherlock emerged from his room.

“Time for presents.” He said lazily, as if bored with the whole affair and idea of Christmas. Little did you know, inside he was having a silent panic attack. He secretly slipped something under the tree.

“Ok.” You said giddily, smiling like a child. “I’m excited to see what you got me Mr. Holmes.” You said nudging him in the side.

“Nothing.” He responded. “I told you earlier that I didn’t get anyone anything.”

You looked down, slightly saddened by this sentence. Your Christmas cheer was being ruined by Sherlock.

“You know you don’t have to be such a spoilsport.”

“I actually do.”

“Why, Sherlock?”

“The idea of buying people presents gives some people anxiety. Anxiety about not getting the right thing. In fact, it is scientifically proven that people have more stress around the holidays.” He said with a completely straight face.

“Really Sherlock? You don’t buy people presents because you’re afraid you’ll get the wrong thing?”

“That is what I said, yes.” He said rolling his eyes.

“Sherlock… We’re your friends. We’ll be happy with anything you give us.”

“Really?” He said raising an eyebrow. “Last Christmas John said he loved my gift. He lied. I read his body language. He was not at all pleased with my gift. I was given a mental talent for reading people and it is a blessing and a curse. Let me ask you something, (y/n). Do you sometimes wish I were a normal person? That I’m unable to read people like a book?”

Without missing a heartbeat, you answered his question honestly, “No. You are perfect. If you weren’t the way you were you would never have met me. You never would have been ‘The Great Sherlock Holmes’, and I never would have come to you with my case.”

He clasped his hands together, thinking deeply. “Hmm… You’re right.”

“As I always am.” You said.

“Not always.” He corrected quickly.

You laughed. John and Mary came out of the kitchen. “What’s so funny?” John asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” You said. “Let’s go. I can’t possibly wait any longer. I can feel the presents calling to me.”

“Presents don’t talk.” Sherlock mentioned quietly.

“They do in my mind palace.” You said, teasing him.

He sighed tiredly, “Let’s just get on with the presents.”

John cleared his throat. “Ok then. Let’s see, first present.” He picked up a box with green wrapping. He said out loud, “For Mary and John, from (y/n).” You smiled as they unwrapped it together. They pulled out a small onesie.

“It’s for the baby.” You said smiling brightly. “Do you guys like it?”

Mary turned to you. “Oh, (y/n). We love it!” She came over to hug you.

John said, “Thank you (y/n). It’s a wonderful gift.”

You picked the next box. “For Sherlock, from John and Mary.” You smiled at the couple as you unwrapped the present for Sherlock. You pulled out a hat. You laughed. Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked at the hat in disgust. You smiled at Mary, “Thanks guys.” You looked at John and mouthed, “I’ll make him wear it.” The next present was for Mrs. Hudson, from John and Mary. It was a nice pink shawl. John and Mary had given you a nice coat that matched Sherlock’s. The presents from John and Mary were all wonderful. Next, it was your turn to give everyone presents. You had already given John and Mary their present so you gave Mrs. Hudson hers. Sher pulled out a blouse, a skirt, and a pair of heels all matching the same royal blue color. “Thank you, dear.” She said smiling at you.

“Of course, Mrs. Hudson.” You said, matching her smile. Then you handed Sherlock his present. He opened it and was surprised to see a brand new blue scarf.

“Thank you very much, (y/n).” He said looking over at you.

You smiled at him, “Anything for you, Sherlock.”

Mrs. Hudson seemed to be ready to bounce out of her seat. Sher quickly handed everyone their presents. Your gift was a nice jumper. “Mrs. Hudson, did you knit this all by yourself?” You inquired.

“Yes I did.” She said quite proudly. Sherlock’s was a fancy suit.

“Mrs. Hudson, where did you get this?” He asked.

“Oh, it was from a real fancy shop. I know you have a lot of suits, but this one just seemed to pop to me. It would look perfect on you. I mean you have all black suits; you never wear blue. I thought it would look real nice on you.”

“Thank you. I like it.” He said cautiously, as if his words might offend her. Everyone looked around. There were no more presents to be opened. Everyone looked expectantly at Sherlock. They didn’t seem surprised, however. They soon all packed up and left, save for Mrs. Hudson, who had gone upstairs. You started to clean up the trash on the ground from the presents. Sherlock watched you carefully, studying you. You had finished clearing all of the wrapping paper from around the tree when a little twinkle from under the tree caught your eye. You reached a hand under the tree and felt a box. You pulled it out. It was a small box covered with shiny silver wrapping paper. Carefully you turned it over, ‘To my dear (y/n), from your Sherlock,’ it said in fancy writing on the wrapping paper. You turned to Sherlock and he gave you a smile. “I didn’t want you to open it in front of everyone.” He said smirking at your surprised face.

“Here, I thought you were a pompous jackass who was too good to get anyone anything.” You commented, joking lightly. Sherlock only rolled his eyes.

“Open it.” He said. “Before I change my mind and return it.”

“Now I know what you meant when you said you were in your room, ‘wrapping things up’. You meant it literally, that you actually were ‘wrapping something up’. Gosh, you are clever.”

“I know.” He said, sarcastically. “Now open it.”

You excitedly ripped off the wrapping paper. Inside was a black square velvet box. You gasped in surprise. It was from Tiffany’s. You traced your fingers along the velvet on the outside of the box. “What is it?” You asked Sherlock, looking over at him. He only smiled mysteriously.

“Open it and see.”

You opened the box to see the diamond necklace you had been drooling over for a long time every time you passed the window of Tiffany’s. “Sherlock! You didn’t have to get me this.”

“I actually did. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how every day when we walked past the store you looked longingly and lovingly at this necklace. I read John, I can read you too.”

“Sherlock! This is just too much. I-I” You were at a loss for words. You looked down at the box and noticed there was another, much smaller, box inside. You picked it up. “Sherlock… What’s this?”

He stayed silent. So you took the box carefully in your hands and opened it up. Inside was a beautiful diamond ring. You gasped. “Oh my. Oh my gosh.” You looked up at Sherlock. He smiled mysteriously.

“I see no need to get on one knee and all so I’ll just say it. Will you (y/n) (y/l/n) the most beautiful and clever and kind and funny person I have ever met and also my favorite human being in this entire wretched world, agree to be my wife?”

“Yes, Sherlock. Yes of course I’ll be your wife.” You stood up to hug him and as you hugged you noticed a small green plant hanging on top of Sherlock’s head. You smiled. As you pulled apart from the hug you pecked Sherlock on the lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned.

“Tradition.” You responded with a smirk.

“I hate tradition.”

“Is there anything you don’t hate?”

“I don’t hate you.”

You smiled softly. “Hey, don’t get soft on me now Mr. Holmes.”

“I won’t Mrs. Holmes.”

The End

There’s no “I” in Team (Kidney, edited)

All of the suggested revisions were made and a lot of my own revisions were added. Also this fic is supposed to play out like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy (not super realistic logistic timeline wise or medicine wise). 

It started with the itching. It felt like a bad sunburn a couple of days in, like there was a layer of skin on top of his skin. He had mentioned it in passing to his Mami, but she had just taken it as an opportunity to tell him about the importance of sunscreen, even though it was mid January. “Stop wearing wool.”She suggested, “Use a different laundry detergent. Oh, and don’t use fabric softener, it can irritate your skin.” About a week later a large basket filled with expensive bath products arrived on the front door of the Haus, but no amount of salt scrubs or exfoliating brushes or shea cocoa oatmeal ultra moisturizing cream stopped the itch. “Maybe you have eczema? I’ll call the doctor and see if he can get you in over spring break.” His Mami suggested an oatmeal bath for the fourth time in one phone call so he shouts a couple of “I love yous” and hangs up the phone.

Unfortunately even the medicated eczema cream his mother mailed in didn’t seem to work.   Nursey couldn’t sit for more than five minutes without scratching incessantly at his skin. Even on the ice, he would shift uncomfortably in his pads, missing passes and ignoring Dex’s angry shouts as he tried not jump out of his own skin. He had begged Chowder and Farmer and bribed them with Reese’s peanut butter cups until they agreed to help scratch every inch of his body.

He was exhausted all the time, barely alert or awake enough to even acknowledge Dex’s chirps. He writes it off as normal college student exhaustion, with his late nights, early morning hockey practices and excessive coffee consumption.  But he barely slept at night, tossing and turning in the bottom bunk and more than once Dex forces him to move to the toxic green couch. He can barely fall asleep because of the itch and once he falls asleep its restless and light and he wakes up to dark nail streaks all over is skin.

  Then it was the swollen legs and arms. Nursey was naturally more muscular, but Bitty had shouted when Nursey shed his pads after practice on Friday and revealed horribly swollen legs, arms and feet.  Bitty had poked and prodded before shoving Nursey towards Coach Hall who immediately advised Nursey to go to the student health center. Nursey had brushed them off, claiming he had a paper due that night that he couldn’t waste the time ( “I have a poetry midterm next week, I can’t waste any potential study time.”)

So later that night when Nursey and Dex were huddled in their room, each typing away on their respective computers was when the situation had finally dramatically escalated. Nursey had been complaining about nausea since dinner, but now he was rushing to the bathroom with both hands over his mouth. He can hear his Mami’s voice nagging in his head “Too much caffeine will upset your stomach.” It’s stress, it’s just stress, just calm down. He tries to coach himself through it to no avail.

The little bit of rice and saltines he had managed to get down was coming back up and he retched loudly enough to alert Chowder. He felt the warmth of Chowder’s hands rubbing circles into his back and vaguely heard the goalie calling out to Bitty. He was retching uncontrollably and his body was seizing with every wave of nausea but nothing was coming up, and Chowder smoothed a hand over the back of Nursey’s neck and shoulders. When his was finally able to stop retching Chowder pulled him up again his chest and someone else (Dex maybe?) grabbed his feet and maneuvered him down the stairs and into the back of Bitty’s small four door.

“Where are we going?” His own voice sounded slurred and muffled to his ears as another wave of nausea hit.

“The emergency room.” Chowder was still rubbing soft circles into his back and Dex reached back to pat his knee before relaying the directions to Bitty.

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