THE BAKER STREET TRIO (SHERLOCK X READER)

Chapter 44: His Last Vow

The taxi pulled to a stop at 221B. At the sight of Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson squealed and rushed to put the kettle on. Upstairs, Blue’s tail wagged at the speed of light. Sherlock knelt down the floor to greet his dog, scratching under his collar. Sherlock missed Blue as much as Blue had missed him, so he endured a few loving licks before moving to sit in his beloved chair.

“So,” Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin. “Any cases?”

John smiled, and pulled his phone out to check the blog and Sherlock’s website. They found a fairly simple theft case that would only take a matter of hours. The best friends hooked Blue up to his leash and left the flat for a day of familiar comradery.

They returned in the early evening. Blue bounded up the stairs ahead of the boys, eager to greet Y/N. She sat at her desk, organizing some papers. Y/N got down on the floor to greet Blue, but didn’t linger long when she saw Sherlock and John enter the sitting room. Blue trotted off to see if there were any treats to be found in the kitchen. Y/N stood, perfectly framed in the window. The golden light from the sky gave Y/N an angelic aura, although John could have sworn the glow was all from the way she looked at Sherlock.

“Welcome home.” She said, grinning.

“Isn’t it time you headed home, John?” Sherlock said to his friend.

“No, I mean Mary is probably―”

“Probably waiting for you.” Sherlock cut him off.

John’s eyes widened as he got the message.

“Oh, you know, you’re right.” John said, heading for the door. “See you soon, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled at John. “Bye, John.”

Sherlock shut the door after the doctor. He turned around and approached Y/N slowly and purposefully, like a panther stalking its prey. She held his gaze, despite how the intensity of it made her heart race. Sherlock stopped when they were chest to chest, faces inches apart. Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him into a kiss. His hands found her waist, and she wanted to feel the heat of them everywhere.

Left breathless and senseless, she was unable to think about anything but him. Y/N pushed his coat off of his shoulders and he yanked his scarf away from his neck, a gesture, that for some inexplicable reason, made her knees weak. Sherlock cradled the back of her head, kissing her. Y/N pressed closer to him, wanting. Sherlock made a noise somewhere between and groan and a growl, moving to kiss the underside of her jaw. By the time he reached her collarbone, Y/N wasn’t sure if she’d still be standing without his grip on her hips.

Y/N tugged at his shirt, managing to pull it out of his slacks. She fumbled with the buttons, managing to expose his chest eventually. Her hands pushed the fabric away, tracing the firm planes of his torso. Y/N’s fingertips brushed over the nearly healed wound on his side.

Sherlock stilled, his breath warm on her neck.

“Did I hurt you?” She asked, concerned.

“No.” He assured her, kissing her cheek.

Sherlock pulled his shirt back over the mark. Y/N grabbed his hand to stop him.

“Why are you hiding it?” She whispered, looking at him. “We all have scars, they don’t make us any less than we were before we got them.”

Sherlock stared at her, unable to fathom what he did to deserve her. He surged forward, capturing her lips in an intense, loving kiss. She put her hands on his shoulders and began to slowly trace down, back to the scar. This time Sherlock didn’t stop, instead, he held her closer and cherished every touch of her hand, every sound she made, and every second they spent together. He loved her, so incredibly much.