❛ I'M REACHING OUT AND I JUST CAN'T TELL YOU WHY ❜
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 an untouchable and a self-proclaimed consulting detective band together in the most unlikely of ways
[ bbc sherlock holmes x fem!oc ]
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WHEN POPPY HOPPED UP THE FRONT STEPS OF 221b Baker Street, she found the front door slightly ajar, and saw no reason as to why she couldn't just let herself in. Quietly she slotted it back into the frame behind her, clicking it into place until it was properly locked. She around the entrance hallway and took notice of Mrs Hudson's door being locked without the sound of the old lady pottering about in her aim to complete menial chores to fill the void of the day, and up the stairs to the sound of an argument.
Sherlock and John, at it again.
With quick pace Poppy took the stairs by two each time, reaching the top just in time to hear Sherlock start to show John that he'd done his homework surrounding his blog. Evidently interested, as he looked blankly at an advert for a stairlift in the magazine nearest to him. "Um, no." Poppy smirked, leaning on the doorway as Sherlock sniffed the air. He looked back at her, then looking at John in the armchair opposite.
"Why? I thought you'd be . . . flattered."
"Oh, yes. 'Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible though is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things'."
"Now hang on a minute, I didn't mean it like that." John's head perked up, preparing to defend himself against his irate flatmate.
"No, how silly of me. You meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way. Look. It doesn't matter to me who the Prime Minister is."
"David Cameron. Nice man." John practically leapt out of his seat at the sound of Poppy speaking, looking at her in shock. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough." Sherlock answered for her, before continuing on. "Or who's sleeping with who."
"No longer me and Theo. Not such a nice man."
The doctor in the armchair continued to reel off unimportant events, "Or whether the Earth goes around the sun." Poppy looked between the pair, aghast, while Sherlock fumed away silently with his eyes clenched closed before they sprang open again. "You didn't know that?"
"Not this again. It's not important!"
"Not impor . . ." He started, then shifted around to face Sherlock head on. "It's primary school stuff! How can you not know that?"
Poppy stared at Sherlock. "Yeah. Why do you not know that?"
The detective tried to redeem himself. "Well, if I ever did I've probably deleted it." He tried to reason, though Poppy was trying not to laugh at him while sat in his dressing gown with no slippers or shoes. "Deleted it?" She and John asked at the same time.
"Deleted it." Was repeated back to them.
Still in disbelief, she tried again. "Deleted it?"
