[CONTAINS SMUT] ‼️18+‼️
WARNINGS: This is a Sherlock book so obviously mentions of drug use
~~~
A simple tune is all it takes. A flood of memories returning to haunt- to plague every thought with regret and/or longing.
For you, a violin composition...
"Didn't you just give a case a few days ago?" Your appear from the hall, bringing out dirty dishes with a hood thrown over your messed up hair.
"Did you just wake up?" John helps put the dishes away.
"I was up until 4, give me a break, Hamish," the glare you earn from him makes you chuckle. "Don't mind me," landing in Sherlock's chair, a habit out of spite to annoy him, you switch the telly on.
"There's a case, Cardiff," Lestrade places a report down as your head snaps to them. Sherlock's eyes gaze to you at the same time, but instead of seeing nostalgia like every other time someone brought Cardiff up, he saw... hurt, pain, regret.
"Why do you need us?" John gazes to the reports about disappearances.
"Well, actually I was going to ask help from Y/n," Greg shrugs which you still at.
"Me? Why?" There was no doubt a sense of pride rose in your chest from Sherlock's scowl. Finally, you were needed more than him.
"We need someone undercover in a club but it's exclusive and takes months for a membership... but, there is an opening for a temporary singer and I doubt anyone at the station can sing quite well enough for a spot,"
"She can't go," Sherlock states sternly.
"Well, I am," you spit out sourly. "Count me in,"
~~~
"My little cousin going off for a few days," Moriarty bursts through the door making everyone glare to him when Mrs Hudson screams bloody murder.
"James!" You smack his head, "say sorry, now."
"I'll transfer half a million-"
"No, say sorry," you point to the woman who was fearful by the stairs.
"Forgive me, Mrs Hudson, I didn't mean to startle you,"
"And I'll take that half a million," she eyes him for a moment with a smirk as he quickly transfers it in amusement.
"I like her," your cousin clicks his fingers to the woman who went back to her flat, then looking around and grinning. "Good luck, I'm sure Y/n will carry this entire investigation,"
"I usually do," hugging him tight with a smile. "Don't steal the crown jewels again while I'm gone, okay?"
"You were out of the country, what else could I do?" He ruffles your hair before smiling while you exit the building with Seb. "She's told me all about Cardiff, Virgin," Jim raised a knife to the detective's neck. "Cause her anymore pain and a knife to the neck will seem like mercy,"
"Oh, dear god," John's mind visualized it to his distaste.
Sherlock gives a scoff, "of course," he muses, shoving away and holding the door open. "But after two years with her, you still think I'm a virgin?"
"Shit," Lestrade holds Jim back while John does as well. "Y/n!"
"Move," you avoid Sherlock and see Jim being held back. "What's going on??"
"Uhm, well," John stammers over his words.
"What did Sherlock say?" You sigh, seeing Sherlock smugly load the car. "Oh- Seriously, Jim? Of course we did," smacking the criminals head lightly, your eyes catch sight of John and Greg giving slightly bewildered looks at the idea, though once thought of too much they grimace.
"I'll skin him with a rusty spoon," Moriarty seethes. "And this time I'll happily get my hands dirty,"
"Mhm," two pats to his cheek, and you descended the steps from the foot of 221B Baker Street. "I'll see you soon, Sebby, take care of Jim," hugging the solider tight, the promise was made.
~~~
"Greg, my man, you get first song choice,"
Sherlock held back a groan of annoyance which you all ignore, the inspector hums in thought while at a red light. "Do you know still into you by Paramore?"
"Woah, woah, woah, old man doesn't have old man taste?" Scrolling down, you smirk at his song suggestion. "So... who are you still into?"
"Either sing-a-long or don't talk," he proceeds down the road while you lean back. Drumming to the beat, he hums along, the slight noise of John's own humming being heard behind you.
"Sing it with me, boys," you lean back and belt the lyrics out. "I should be over all the butterflies!"
"But I'm into you!" Greg sings out.
"And even on the worst nights I'm into you!" You look behind to John who was singing passively. "Come on, John, better than that!" You laugh with a gleam. "Recount the night that I first met your mother!"
"And on the drive back to my house, told you that-" Greg points to you while keeping eyes on the road, head nodding to the tune.
"I told you that, I loved ya!"
"I love you, Sherlock," with your hands draped over his shoulders, the heat of his body under you made your heart swell. The perfect ending to the perfect night. After dinner with his parents, you felt right at home and more loved than ever.
"I love you more, Y/n," he muttered back, both hands on your hips while they traced small shapes along your slightly exposed skin. "You're perfect in every single way," forehead pressed against one another, his breath tickled against your lips.
"Whenever you say that I get butterflies,"
"That's a good thing, right?" He raises a brow.
"Very much so, Mr. Detective," curling closer to him with your head in the crook of his neck, the rumble from his laugh brought the biggest smile to your face.
"Good," he leaned up and flicked the lights off, turned you on your side while both hands wrapped around you like a koala. "Perfect,"
~~~
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