You run into the living room, rushing around hurriedly and grabbing your things.
“What’s the rush, Y/N?” John asks from his place on the couch.
“I’m going to be late,” you reply simply, racing to the kitchen to grab your purse, which you had left on the table yesterday night.
“For what?” Sherlock drawls, lounging lazily on his chair in his robe.
“My date,” you blurt out, not even thinking about the repercussions of your words.
There is a stunned silence in the flat for a few moments, both of them staring at you in shock, but you don’t notice because you’re flying about, trying to get everything together in time.
“Hold on, what?” John asks, standing up. “A date?”
“With who exactly?” Sherlock demands, leaping up and walking over to you in three long strides. He grips your arms tightly, forcing you to stop and look at him.
“Er, Alex,” you answer distractedly. “He’s an old friend from uni.”
“Are you sure he’s alright?” Sherlock presses. “He won’t hurt you?”
You roll your eyes. “He’s an old friend,” you repeat. “It’ll be fine.”
“Positive?” Sherlock continues, his eyes searching yours.
You smile at his protectiveness. “I can handle myself, Sherly. Anyways, I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later, yeah? Don’t wait up!”
“Fat chance,” Sherlock grumbles as you race out the door.
He turns to see John still staring at the space where you had occupied just two seconds ago, with a look of shock on his face. “What?”
“She’s going on a date, John,” Sherlock says slowly. “I’m sure you know what that is; after all, you’ve gone on plenty yourself.”
Sherlock sighs, rolling his eyes, and collapses back on his chair. After a few long, drawn out moments, John slowly sits back down on the couch, muttering to himself about “stupid” and “hurt her” and “kill him”.
Sherlock shakes his head slightly, privately agreeing with his friend’s sentiments.
“You’ll be running back to me soon enough,” Alex predicts as you glare at him, the two of you standing in front of 221B after a disastrous date. Although you had been perfectly civil, Alex had done nothing but drop dirty jokes and sexual innuendos all throughout your conversation, until you had finally told him you had had enough and demanded to end the date early.
“Don’t hold your breath,” you snap. “Oh wait, actually, do hold your breath. You’ll be dead for an infinity number of years before I talk to you again.”
“Wouldn’t bet on it,” Alex comments, and you feel your hand itch, wanting to smack that smug look off his face.
“Oh, yes I would,” you hiss, before turning to go back into 221B.
Suddenly he grabs your arm and spins you, pulling you back to him and pinning you against his car. He leans closer, his warm breath making you shiver in disgust.
“Come on, darling,” he whispers. “Let me show you what you’re missing.”
You freeze, eyes widening as your brain flashes back to when you had seen Moriarty, how he had murmured that name of supposed affection exactly the same way. The way he had threatened everyone you loved…
In an instinctive reaction, you bring your knee up into Alex’s groin, causing him to release you and double over in pain. Immediately you punch him in the face, hearing a satisfying crunch as you did so, then follow up with a kick that snaps his head back.
You know a blow like that would cause the brain to slam into the front of the skull, so you aren’t surprised when he drops like a sack of potatoes, unconscious, his head hitting the ground with a harsh cracking sound.
You turn and run into your flat, hearing the door slam behind you as you run up the stairs. You burst into the room where Sherlock and John are both sitting, and they jump up immediately.
“Y/N? What is it?” John asks, both he and Sherlock moving forward to stand in front of you.
“The bloody idiot downstairs happened,” you hiss, shoving past them to collapse on the couch.
“What did he do?” Sherlock demands, narrowing his eyes.
“Tried to get me in bed,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Then pretty much tried to assault me. He’s unconscious outside right now… and might have a concussion. Not sure, and don’t really care.”
You rest your head on the couch and close your eyes. “Anyways, I’m exhausted,” you continue. “You mind if I crash here for the night? I don’t feel like going upstairs.”
“No problem,” John says casually. While your eyes are closed, Sherlock and John exchange a glance, then with unspoken agreement both head for the door. You can hear both him and Sherlock moving around, but you’re not sure what they’re doing, so you open your eyes, only to see them leaving the room.
“Hey, where are you going?” you ask, straightening.
The two of them stop and look back at you, and in perfect synchronization they both say, “Out.”
You furrow your brow in confusion, but nod slowly anyways. “Er, okay, I’ll wait up for you then?”
“If you want,” Sherlock mutters distractedly.
You close your eyes again and slump back on the couch.
When John and Sherlock exit the flat, Alex is just sitting up, groaning and rubbing his head.
“Stupid chav,” he mutters, unaware that two of her best friends in the world are standing right behind him.
In a flash Sherlock grabs him by the shirt and hauls him up, slamming him against the car parked behind him, which Sherlock knew was Alex’s.
“Don’t call her that,” John barks angrily. “She’s a thousand times better than you’ll ever be.”
“Who the hell are you?” Alex asks, trying to sound tough. The effect is slightly ruined, however, by the quivering tone to his voice.
“I’m John Watson,” John introduces, giving him a cold smirk that promises bad things ahead. “And this is Sherlock Holmes. You might’ve heard of us.”
Alex’s eyes widen. “Y- you’re friends with Y/N?” he stutters, even more frightened now.
Sherlock plasters on a sickly sweet smile. “Flatmates, partners, best friends, associates. Take your pick.”
Now seriously terrified, Alex gulps, his mouth dry. “I- I didn’t know, she di- didn’t tell m-”
“Which is all the better, because now we know what you’re really like,” John interrupts. “And no one treats Y/N like that without getting hell from us.”
Alex opens his mouth, but Sherlock stops his next few words by rewarding him with a hard punch on the jaw, releasing him while he did so. Alex stumbles, clutching his face.
“Dude, you two are crazy-” he begins to say, but John quickly proceeds to shut him up with another punch.
A couple minutes later, Alex lies on the sidewalk, bruised and battered, while John and Sherlock stand beside him, looking down at him in disgust.
“Weak,” John spits, his old military self making an appearance as he glares at the man - no, boy - that had been so rude to you.
“He didn’t even attempt to fight,” Sherlock notes distastefully.
“Or flee,” a voice says from behind them. Both Sherlock and John turn around in surprise, seeing you standing by the door, leaning on it and regarding them casually.
“Y/N, h- how long have you been standing there?” John stammers nervously.
“Long enough,” you answer, managing to keep a complete straight face despite how much you want to hug them for being so protective of you.
“How much have you seen?” Sherlock questions, scrutinizing you carefully.
Your calm expression breaks into a smirk. “Pretty much everything,” you laugh, bounding towards them and giving both of them a hug in turn. John returns it happily, while Sherlock just stands there stiffly until you release him.
“You’re not mad?” John asks after you pull away.
Your returning grin answers all his questions, but you say the words anyways. “Of course not. I can never stay mad at my boys, especially after all they’ve done for me.”
Laughing, you turn and return to the flat, pausing at the door for a second. You turn your head and smile at them. “Don’t stay out too late.”
Then the door closes and you’re out of sight.
Sherlock looks over at John. “We are not ‘her boys’,” he argues defensively.
John smirks at him. “Yes we are,” he chuckles. “Oh, yes we are.”
Requested by anon: I
would like to request a Sherlock x reader where he has been drugged and how
he’s really cute and a little dirty towards her in front of John. Haha like
while “high”. Just super fluffy and cute and maybe a little smutty/implied
smut/ a little dirty haha. I get if you’re too busy or don’t feel like writing
it, no problem. Love you. & anon: I have a request for you (if youre still taking..?) so sherlock
and john gets drunk and sherlock starts hitting on (and gets kissy and touchy)
on reader which has been her girlfriend for months xD
Pairing: Sherlock x reader.
Word count: 2,026
Warnings: Just like in “The sign of three” this things gives a lot of twists.
A/N: Drunk Sherlock and Watson are my fave, I loved this so much!
Sherlock and John weren’t the kind of men to get drunk
every week, however and because of the stress they had been put through in
their last case, they decided to go to the bar together.
At first it was just beer and talking
and complaining, but then, someone recognized Sherlock and decided to put a
little something on his beer which, added up to what he had already drunk,
ended up turning him into a dizzy, slurry mess.
John was drunk as well, but for a
different reason: he had mixed tequila with beer.
They walked – stumbled – their way back
to Baker Street. It wasn’t even ten o’clock when that happened, so both (Y/N)
and Mrs. Hudson were up and sharing a cup of tea while the boys came back,
doing all kinds of strange noises as they walked in that called both women’s
“What are you two doing here?” Mrs.
Hudson asked as she and (Y/N) walked out to the stair case where John and
Sherlock were laying. (Y/N) couldn’t help but to laugh at the image and the
sound of her laughter caught Sherlock’s attention.
“(Y/N)!” He cheered drunkenly, “AREN’T
YOU THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BEING ON EARTH?”
“Wow, someone’s loud tonight.” She joked
and Sherlock walked to her and held her tightly against his chest.
“You are sooooo beautiful!” He slurred,
“And so hot, would you be my girlfriend?”
“I am already your girlfriend, Sherlock.” (Y/N) spoke
clamly, unable to contain the giggle that left her lips.
“I’m such a lucky man I’m jealous of myself …”
Sherlock cupped her face and started kissing her passionately, like never
before. (Y/N) tried to pull away but Sherlock’s grip was tight and it wasn’t
until he needed air that he let go off her.
“You’re so drunk!” She giggled.
“And you’re stunning.” Sherlock mumbled,
“Delightful, splendid, a Greek muse right in front of me! DATING ME!”
“Sherlock Holmes is a poet when he’s
drunk, what are the chances!” Watson spoke from behind, right before he bursted
in a dry laughter. Mrs. Hudson laughed with him and then both women dragged
Anonymous asked: “Can you do a Sherlock x reader? Reader is brought in on a case cause Sherlock hasn’t been able to solve it in months. Reader almost immediately solves it, which causes Sherlock to be fascinate by her, along with not being able to read her even though she can read him pretty easily. I totally understand if you don’t wanna do this one. (I also wanna say I’m really happy I found your blog, I love your stories!)”
“curious” Sherlock whispered. “sorry, what?” John asked, looking up. “nothing” Sherlock mumbled, examining the dead body closer. “no, you said ‘curious’ why? What’s curious about this case?” John asked, his attention away from the body and now fully on Sherlock. “I told you, it’s nothing. Just some minor ‘issues’ ” Sherlock replied, stepping away from the body. “issues?” John questioned. “minor” Sherlock replied. “Sherlock, tell me what is going on” John said, agitated. “I can’t solve it, alright” Sherlock yelled. John looked at him, blinking rapidly. “alright, I’ll see if I can contact Y/N” John said, after a moment of thought. “who?” Sherlock asked but John was already gone.
“female, late 40’s, worked as a scientist, not married, no children as far as we know and lived outside of London” John explained as he gestured at the dead body in the morgue. “how did she die?” you asked him. “well, that’s the thing. We don’t know” John revealed. You averted your gaze from the woman, now looking at John. “you don’t know how she was killed, yet you’re sure it is a murder” you said, curiosity clearly visible. “interested?” John smiled. “definitely” you laughed, getting back to the body.
“you must be Y/N” you heard behind you. When you turned around you saw a tall, black haired man with a beautiful coat. “Sherlock, I assume. John has told me loads about you” you said, shaking his hand. “so what do you think?” he asked, cautiously. “well, no signs of struggle or death through digestion. The killer must certainly know what he’s doing” you said. “I meant, what do you think of me?” Sherlock said. “of you?” you asked, surprised. “John told me you were good, excellent even. Prove your worth, deduce me” he smirked. “alright mister Holmes. You’re clearly the middle child, going by your extreme need of praise and to prove your own worth by making other people seem less smart. You believe humans are stupid but you don’t mind that as long as they are loyal, going by John obviously. Also, you are really handsome” you laughed shyly, turning around to face the body again. Before Sherlock could reply, you spoke up. “eureka” you exclaimed. Sherlock rushed over, looking at where you were pointing. “it’s a hair pin, just like the one in….” Sherlock started. “a study in pink” you both finished. “I read John’s blog” you admitted. “I figured” Sherlock laughed. “so the pin isn’t actually a pin. It looks like a normal hair pin, only it is much larger. It’s made to look like the other pins in her hair but it’s actually pierced through the back of her skull, entering the brain and killing her almost instantly. The pin remains in place, no one takes it out and no blood leaves the body” you said, examining the now dried up blood on the pin. “fantastic” Sherlock mumbled. “I should probably go tell Lestrade about the discovery” you said. “or we could go get dinner, together” Sherlock offered. You smiled shyly, taken aback by his proposal. “you are really interesting, Y/N. I’d love to get to know you better” Sherlock said, locking eyes with you. “can’t you deduce me then?” you asked. “that’s what makes you so curious, I can’t” he admitted. “well, seems like we have to do it the old fashion way then. You get me some chips and I’ll tell you everything you want to know” you laughed, following him out of the morgue.
Originally requested by @newts-fan-case: So could you do a Sherlock x Reader were she is riding his face? (Lol I’m a sinner but I ain’t sorry) like for an experiment ‘cause Sherlock thinks a person can’t get aroused just by giving pleasure to someone else, but he is wrong and yeah ;) & Anon: Hi! Can I request a smut one shot with Sherlock where he wants to try have the reader sit on his face and eat her out and she’s shy & a bit self conscious with her body and he makes sure he makes her see Stars (with a little fkuff)? Thank you! Requested by anon:
The “Experiment” was awesome! Can we have a part 2? Pleeeeeaaaaseeee & a shit load of other people.
Sherlock’s little “experiment”, his relationship with (Y/N) turned somewhat
odd. They would continue to work together and act professional during the
cases, but the tension between them was too much.
showed her a side that not a single human thought existed, or at least didn’t
want to see. He had been patient with her, loving even, making sure to make her
feel comfortable at all costs, complimenting her, being gentle and respecting
her limits… Definitely thing a real gentleman does, but not the kind of traits
one would expect from Sherlock Holmes.
was also the fact that John was sensing some change of vibes in 221B. Of
course, he figured it had something to do with Sherlock’s usual arse behaviour,
but it was weird to see (Y/N) affected by it.
was sitting on his seat, Watson was on his and (Y/N) was between them on the “victim’s
chair”. Watson had a stern, determined look on his eyes and Sherlock was calm
as usual, thinking that John was too dumb to have figured anything about him
Do not think about Sherlock teaching Rosie how to dance. Do not think about Sherlock allowing Rosie to stand on his feet as he glides her around the living room of 221B. Do not think about John walking in on them and just watching from the doorway. Do not think about John being filled with warmth and happiness at the sight of the two people he loves most in the world together. Do not think about Sherlock and Rosie realizing John is there and Rosie running into John’s arms giggling and happy because “Papa was teaching me to dance!” Do not think about Sherlock and John sharing a smile and look of love and pure contentment. Do not think about the family they’ve finally become.
Requested by anon:
okay okay experiment part two is making me want to SIN SO BAD, so I’ve got request! Sherlock is investigating a case about sex workers who ended up dying, but instead of them being tied up and tortured for the murderers fun, it’s because the murderer is just hella kinky and kills his victims after. Sherlock can’t wrap his mind around kinks and asks his assistant (Y/N) to help show him???? If that makes sense??????
Pairing: Sherlock x reader
Word count: 2,424
Warnings: Smut (Bondage, unprotected, rough)
A/N: Not only is this for Sequel Friday but also because I believe we all need a smutty week-ending. ;)
Sherlock was at his seat, with his blue eyes glued to his phone. (Y/N)
was sitting at the victim’s chair, with her laptop on and doing some research.
John was at his seat, staring awkwardly at the two of them.
“So…” John spoke, “You’re fine?”
“Yes.” Sherlock and (Y/N) replied in unison.
“No tension or anything?” John continued.
“Nope.” (Y/N) popped the last syllable.
“Oh, that’s great.” John nodded.
“I don’t get why the killer would tie them.” Sherlock complained, “He
had them right there, why would he tie them? Did they try to run away?”
(Y/N) giggled and Sherlock snapped his head to look at her. With a
cocked eyebrow, he silently asked her for an explanation.
“You really don’t know what fetishes are, do you?” She inquired
“It’s a sexual fixation… What does this have to do with the killer?”
“The killer is a kinky bastard.” Watson stated and (Y/N) nodded in
“It doesn’t make any sense!” Sherlock roared, dropping his phone to the
coffee table and throwing his hand up.
“It also didn’t make any sense to you that someone could be aroused by…”
“SHUT UP!” Sherlock commanded and stormed to his room without allowing
neither (Y/N) or John to argue back.
Request: Sherlock x femReader or Mycroft × femReader involving his violin and her ukulele🎶👀 something cute please thanks!
I hope it lives upto your expectations
Summary:Reader is sherlock’s girlfriend. While being bored in their shared flat with john watson because they went on a case and left her because john said “it was too dangerous.” She plays her ukulele and later sherlock and john comes home and sherlock joins her.
Warnings: none, i don’t think so
(Y/N) has always been talented with instruments. She knew how to play a ton of instruments, but ukulele was always her favorite. It brings her joy with the cheerful music it brings. She loves it. Fun fact: sherlock didn’t know any about this except her playing violin and piano.
It’s so boring!! Why John!! I groan as I watch this stupid tv show. I stand and try to find Sherlock’s gun. Oh wait he took it. “Oh great!” I mumble sarcastically. I walk around and went to my old room which just became the storage when I start sharing a room with Sherlock. I almost trip over something. I look down oh it’s my old ukulele. Yay! my escape from major boredom. I go to the living room (or whatever you want call it.) I started to play the tune I play with my piano when i do duets with Sherlock. I remember the cords perfectly and where my fingers would go. I starts to play and I close my eyes to focus on the sound of music. I hear a door open, but I’m so into it I didn’t check who it is.
John and Sherlock arrive at the door of their flat when they heard a sweet tune that Sherlock recognizes as (Y/N)’s favorite tune in piano and violin,but it was in a different instrument. They went in quietly to see where the music was coming from. They see (Y/N) eyes closed playing a ukulele. Sherlock signals John to be quiet. He nods at Sherlock as he picks up his violin and starts to play
I hear a violin playing the same tune. I open my eyes, but keep playing. I see Sherlock playing his violin. I smile at him he returns it. This was weird this wasn’t like him he wasn’t this nice, but I’ll take it. I stand up as John sits down and Sherlock and I circle around each other as we continue to play with emotion and passion. The musical harmony of my ukulele and his violin filled the room and it’s so magical. John is grinning from his seat and looks with awe at the two of us. As the song softly ends we move closer to each other. As we play the last cord. I kiss him when I pull away. He smiles and John claps. “Do you have any other instruments that you know how to play, that we should know about?” He asks. “ Yes a lot actually” I respond laughing a little. I lean in to kiss him again. When someone clears their throat rather loudly. We look to where that came from and see Mycroft and Lestrade at the doorway. Sherlock rolls his eyes and sits in his chair as he puts down his violin. I blush and do the same with my ukulele and sit down. “I told you not to ruin the moment, Mycroft!” Lestrade says. *Cue awkward silence*
“Mycroft, how’s the diet?”
(30 mins later) Bonus:
“So how are you and lestrade, did you finally go on a date?”
(A/N): Sorry if that was a little cheesy and sorry about the mistakes. Hope you guys like it!) Feel Free to request!!!
Summary: You met Molly, then you met Sherlock and your bad habit of speaking your thoughts out loud put you in a little bit awkward situation
Okay, so… So much happened, I don’t even know where to start. First of all, I met Molly. She was upset as hell. She was sitting on the bench in park, crying. So I came up to her, asked what’s wrong and when she didn’t tell me, I gave her my number. And she called three days later. Apparently her kind-of-coworker was so ignorant to her, that she had to eventually call me. And she cried so much. I invited her to my flat and then she told me whole story. How they met, how she slowly fell in love and how she knew him without even talking with him that much. I listened carefully, I wanted to help her afterall. When I heard everything, I told her to… Um, in less powerfull words, I told her to get him out of her head. She said to me she couldn’t. So I just sighed and assured her, that she could come whenever she wanted.
Then I got the call from Molly. It was week after our second meeting. She wasn’t crying, but she wanted me to come. So I came where she wanted me to. She was waiting for me. When she saw me, she smiled and led me inside. She showed me her workplace and stuff I’ve always wanted to see. And then the door opened with loud bang. Short, overweight man was leading a little bit taller man. This one was blonde. I saw the bangs under his red eyes, his hair, tired face, the way he was moving and I knew. I knew I just met ex soldier. The overweight man was apparently Molly’s friend. And his blonde friend was indeed ex soldier. I never forget John Watson’s face when I told him I’ve always wanted to see a veteran. When I realised my mistake I quickly apologised and told Molly to move. Once we got to the room, unfortunately with mr Watson and Molly’s friend, I lost my breath.
That was the moment I saw Sherlock Holmes for the first time. But he didn’t notice me. He was talking just to Watson and Molly’s friend. But I was amazed by him. His dark curls was almost screaming that he didn’t care about his hair. Then his clothes was saying otherwise. He was in the suit. In the lab. And the way he was moving. Quickly, yet cautiously. He was everywhere and nowhere. His eyes looked like he could see through human’s body. He looked like he was looking directly at your soul. And the way he was talking to everyone. He wasn’t interested. He was an arogant prick. But he just didn’t care. In same moment he was just painfully honest. But I saw his small movements. He cared. He didn’t want to show he had feellings. But he cared about every person in this room. And I would be surpised if he was a smoker.
Then I realised they were looking at me. Molly and Molly’s friend with pure shock, with mouth and eyes wide open. Watson was trying not to explode, I knew it was already too much, because handsome man with microscope told him exactly the same words I did earlier. But the Holmes himself was staring at me. A little bit confused, trying to cover it up. I apologised. I was thinking out loud again. I told Molly to call me soon and I escaped as fast as possible. I was embarrased. I did it two times in one day! I should be ashamed.
Later that day I got the message. Just an adress with letters SH in the end. I ignored it. Probably my twisted brother wanted to play with me again. I called Molly to check on her. But she started babbling about me being so much like Sherlock and so different at the same time. And she was asking about me, about my life. But I didn’t want to talk about this, so I ended the call.
Two days later I was cleaning the tables in one of the bars in suburbs, when I heard loud noise from the street. My mind went red, immediately ordered me to run as fast as possible. But I was an idiot sandwich, so I grabbed the empty bottle and walked to the door. I saw the shadow. Tall man’s shadow. It was somehow familiar. And then familiar voice called my name. I was immediately frozen. Was it my crazy ex? Was it my brother? Was it someone who I told something I should?
I didn’t answer. Then the voice called my name again. And told his as well. I almost drowned in relief, but then I became suspicious. What would possibly Sherlock Holmes want from me? I came out from the bar. But I didn’t have time to ask about anything, because once I stepped out, Sherlock fell on the ground. My fear covered my mind earlier, so I didn’t notice how weak and desperate his voice was. But now I was thinking only about his health and safety.
And now I was here, in hospital, sitting next to Holmes’ bed. He was sleeping. He had buises all over his face and not only his face. The doctor let me sit here just because they couldn’t find any emergency contacts. But I didn’t mind. I asked my friend to close the bar for me, so I didn’t have any work tonight. I could stay until he wake up.
I heard low, quiet growl. My head immediately snapped up, eyes already open and neck hurting from not natural sleeping position. But I didn’t care. Sherlock Holmes was awake. I didn’t want to scare him, so I didn’t move. He growled in pain as he sat up. He ran his fingers through his hair and when he tried to rub his face, he hissed quietly. Then he looked up and scanned the room. His gaze landed on me. Then I got up.
- You are in…
- I know where I am - he cut me off. I wanted to take a step back. He seemed to be angry. - And I know why I am here. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I could foresee this. Why I could not see it coming? For Lord’s sake! I am a genius! So why…
- Um… Can you be a little bit more quiet? It’s the middle of the night - I smiled slightly, when he looked at me. He seemed to be disctracted now, his eyes was looking almost through me. And I cleared my throat. He blinked a few times and his conciousness came back.
- Yeah, right, sorry - he mumbled, still looking at me carefully. - You are… [Y/N], am I right? Molly’s friend?
- Yes, it’s me - I smiled again. He just nodded and moved his gaze on the sheets. - So… How do you feel? - I asked thoughtlessly, while I sat back on the chair.
- You exactly know how I feel - he said quietly. My eyebrows furrowed, when he looked at me with misterious look in his eyes. - And you know that I know why you know.
I leaned back, tried not to look irritated. I didn’t like it. He wanted to know ‘how’. His gaze was all over me, he tried to find out more and more about me.
- Why are you working in bar? You could be useful to police and there are few more jobs where you would be almost the best. So why bar?
I closed my eyes, exhaling loud through my nose. When I looked at him again, the same I-know-everything smile was on his face. I smiled too. Fake, but smiled.
- Listen there, you detective straight from hell. I’m not going to confess in a fucking hospital. I’m here just because I want to inform your family and to do that I have to have adress or number.
Sherlock looked at me slightly surprised.
- That’s all? I know you want to know me better…
- Don’t fatter yourself, Holmes - I sighed, running fingers through my hair. - I just wanted to take care of you since you came to my bar beaten up almost to death. That’s all. You’re interesting, I can give you that, but nothing more. Understand? - I asked with serious voice. He nodded, so I sighed with relief. We sat in silence. Holmes eventually lied down with closed eyes. And I think I fell asleep on the chair again.
When I got up in the morning, I promised myself long, hot bath. But first I had to force Holmes to give me number to at least one of his relatives. It took about half of a hour, but eventually he just sighed and asked for my phone. I gave it to him. Holmes send a message or two and gave me my phone back. Then I said ‘goodbye’ and walked out from there.
Few days later I got to bed early, because I didn’t feel well. I fell asleep pretty quickly, so I wasn’t surprised when I opened my eyes at 2am. I coughed a few times and rolled to the other side of my bed. Then I felt fear. I heard something, steps in the hallway. My brain was working harder than ever. With my eyes wide open I looked at every possible weapon in front of me. Lamp, phone, glass…
- Good morning, [Y/N] - I heard from behind me. I felt anger boiling inside of me. I sat up and turned around just to see that stupid tall men standing next to my bed.
- Holmes, what the fuck? - I hissed at him. He just looked at me with the same misterious look in his eyes as in hospital. - What are you doing here? It’s 2am, for fuck’s sake!
- What do you think about this? - he asked, handing me a leather glove. I looked at him with disbelief. We were staring at each other for good few seconds before he moved glove closer to me. - So? What do you think about this? - he asked again. I just sighed. If this was the only way to kick him out from my flat, I could do it. So I grabbed the glove and looked at it.
- Turn on the light - I mumbled looking closely at the material. Holmes did what I said. I switched something in my brain and everything what I could look at was that one glove. So I started talking. - It’s not the leather. Fake and cheap. It’s small, but streched in every possible way. Old, used often. I think it’s from man with small hands or woman with big hands. The person wose that glove is or was, had often cold hands or just didn’t want to touch anything with bare hands - I took a deep breath and looked up. That something in my brain switched back, so I could go back to be myself. - So? What was that about?
- My turn - he ignored my question and took a glove from me. - The owner had just cold hands. The lining inside. He or she could have extremely bad blood circulation, I can see the wine here…
- Okay, cut it, Sherlock - I said with serious voice. He looked at me surprised. - I don’t want to know anything more about that fucking glove. Why are you even here?
- I wanted to know what do you think…
- I think you should get the fuck out of my house or I’ll kick your ass through the window, mate - I growled at him suddenly.
- But I want you to…
- Do you have some trouble with hearing? I said get out! - I yelled. Sherlock was standing there with eyes wide open as I was yelling at him more and more. And then he moved quickly, I felt something on my face. Suddenly the world around me disappeared and I fell asleep.
I opened my eyes just to see definitely not my ceiling. I turned my head to the side and looked directly at the blonde man standing in the middle of the room. He was looking at me with pure shock. Then he turned around to look at something and then back at me. Then he moved to the side, still shocked, shaking his head.
- Sherlock, why is she here? - Watson asked with fake calm voice. I looked at Holmes who was sitting on the chair in weird way. He had knees pressed to his chest and hands in front of his face, like detectives in movies. - Sherlock. Why is Molly’s friend here? She wasn’t here when I went to sleep.
- I brought her here - Holmes mumbled, still looking into blank space in front of him. - I went to her, so she could tell me what she think about the glove we found yesterday. She started screaming at me, so I put her to sleep, but she didn’t look good, so I brought her here.
- Good Lord. You… - Watson snorted with disbelief. - You kidnapped her.
- No - Sherlock snapped right back at him, finally looking at Watson.
- Did you want to come here? Did you even know what was he doing? - Watson asked me. I shook my head, still trying to understand what the fuck was happening. - I think that means no. So, Sherlock, congratulations. You kidnapped the girl - Watson smiled sarcastically.
- I didn’t - Sherlock stood up and turned toward the window.
- Well, yes, you did - I sighed, trying to sit up.Watson was immediately next to me, asking how I feel. - Yeah, everything’s good. Thank you, mr Watson.
- The name’s John - he smiled warmly.
- Thank you, John - I smiled back. - You’re a lot nicer than him - I pointed at Sherlock, who was now looking at us with face of an innocent. I stood up, even when John tried to stop me. I cracked my knuckles and smiled at Sherlock as I came up to him. Then I hit him right in the face. He took two steps back and put his hand on his cheek. His shocked face was like the best award for me. - Maybe now you stop with breaking into girls’ homes and kidnapping them - I said with casual tone. John laughed shortly.
- But I’ll need consultations…
- What? - Watson looked at Holmes with pure terror. - You sure you’re alright?
- Yes, John, I’m sure I’m alright. I just need to talk with someone who is actually thinking sometimes - Sherlock rolled his eyes at his friend and then looked back at me. - What do you think? Do you want to solve crimes with us?
- Yeah, sure, I can. But! - I raised my finger. - No more breaking into my house, no more kidnapping me and when I’m asking you a question, you’re answering and then you can talk about whatever you want. Deal?
- Okay. I think I can do that - he said with hesistation. I smiled widely and pressed finger to his nose. The terror in his eyes made me burst into laughter. I walked toward the sofa and sat on it.
- So. What about that case? - I asked them. John was even more shocked than Holmes himself, so I had to wait few seconds untill one of them start to talk. - I meant the glove case - I specified with warm smile.
- [Y/N]! He’s running toward you! Move! - I heard John’s scream from the distance. I took a deep breath. I knew that our target was fast, so I had to prepare. When he spotted me, he tried to go back, but John was right behind him. So he cursed loudly and ran straight toward me.
- Stop! For the fuck’s sake! Stop already! - I yelled, spreading my arms as wide as I could. He hesistated and then I had a chance. So I jumped at him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He stopped immediately. - Finally - I sighed, leaning my forehead against his chest.
- Now, Sherlock, we’re going back to Baker Street and you’re staying there untill you’ll fill better - John said, panting for breath. He put his hands on his knees to help himself with catching some air.
- I don’t need it. I have to slove this…
- Shut the fuck up, Holmes - I growled at him. Before I let him go, I grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly. - Before I let you go out to solve anything, I need John’s permission. Now we’re going back to our house and we’re going to lay in bed and watch movies. Understand? - I looked at him with slight anger in my eyes. He sighed and sniffed before he nodded.
- Okay - he mumbled resigned. I smiled widely and turned toward John. - Thank you.
- No problem, [Y/N]. Call me if you see something bad or disturbing. I need to go back to Mary and Rosie…
- I know. Tell Mary I’ll come when Cherry start to feel normal again - I chuckled, squeezing Sherlock’s hand tighter, when he tried to run away again.
- Don’t call me Cherry, [Y/N] - he mumbled.
- I will call you Cherry forever - I whispered and then laughed loud. - Goodbye, John! - I yelled, pulling Sherlock toward our home. - And you, my dear, you have to be more carefull. What if you catch a cold before out wedding? - I shook my head. I felt his body tensed and soon he was the one who was pulling me toward Baker Street. I smiled wider. I knew this argument would work. Now I just needed to try to talk to Molly again and if she don’t hit me again, everything will be okay.