Sherlock's POV
I yawned as I wandered into the kitchen wearing only a sheet. I walked over to the table, grabbing a mug and taking a sip of coffee.
(Y/N) and John were at the crime scene, but I chose not to leave my house."You realize this is a tiny bit humiliating?"
(Y/N) snickered, leaning over John's shoulder and speaking into the camera."It's okay. I'm fine." I replied casually, bringing the laptop over to my chair.
"I didn't mean for you." She replied sarcastically.
"Look... this is a six." I adjusted the screen so that they could see my face, (Y/N) snickered again, and I chose to ignore her. "There's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven. We agreed. Now, go back. Show me the grass."
John took the computer from (Y/N), taking it down to the grass and adjusting the screen so it's tilted towards the grass.
"When did we agree that?" He asked.
"We agreed it yesterday. Stop!" I yelled, leaning in closer to the screen as the camera came to a halt. "Closer." Instead of following my instructions, he swung his laptop around to his face.
"I wasn't even home yesterday. I was in Dublin."
"Well it isn't my fault that you weren't listening." The doorbell rung a second time. "SHUT UP!" I yell at the door, and it's silent.
"D'you just carry on when we're away?" (Y/N) asks, leaning in to the camera, putting her head on John's shoulder again.
"I don't know. How often are you away? Now, show me the car that backfired." (Y/N) rolled her eyes as John moved the camera again. "It's there!" (Y/N) said, pointing towards the car as the camera was fixed on her.
"That's the one that made the sound, yeah?" I asked.
"Yeah. And if you're thinking gunshot, there wasn't one. He wasn't shot; he was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument which then magically disappeared along with the killer. That's gotta be an eight at least." I leaned back into my chair and ran my finger over my top lip. John hands the computer over to Carter.
"Go to the stream." I nearly commanded, a little upset that I didn't get to see (Y/N) anymore, I ran my hand through my messy black hair.
"What's in the stream?"
"Go and see!" I demanded as I heard Ms. Hudson walking up the stairs.
"Sherlock! You weren't answering your doorbell." She says, with 2 men behind her. I look them up and down.
"His room's in the back. Get him some clothes."
"Who the hell are you?" I ask angrily, covering myself with the sheet a bit more.
"Sorry Mr. Holmes, you're coming with us."
"Sherlock? Sherlock what's goin-" John called out in alarm as I closed the computer screen.
The tall man's friend puts a pile of clothes in front of me, I shrug and raise my eyebrows.
"Please Mr. Holmes. Where you're going, you'll want to be dressed." I turn my head, and look at the man.
Based on his suit it's at least £700, he's unarmed (thankfully). An obvious office worker, right handed based on the way his hands were folded. Indoor worker. One small dog. No, two. No! Three small dogs. I chuckled to myself, smiling smugly and looking up at the man. "Oh, I know exactly where we're going."
YOU ARE READING
Lost Girl 🔍 (Sherlock x Reader) [EDITING]
FanfictionYou and John Watson were old flames back in your high school year. Thankfully, when you broke up, you still remained friends. That was, until the year of the war came around. While John went to war, you began to tend to your dying sister, who you kn...