BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: Bored

Request for @TheCloudFactory

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You forgot how beautiful the city was, the sparkling lights and cloudy weather that settled over the place like a light blanket. When you were a child you had lived in London, but after your dad accepted a job in Birmingham you rarely visited the city. Now, however, you were moving back, ready to start your life and make a name for yourself. The cabby pulled up to a white sided and brick building, a cafe sat nested in the middle of it. 221B. That's where it all would start. After paying, you lugged your one suitcase luggage out of the back - you hadn't packed much, you decided it would be nice to treat yourself to a shopping spree when you arrived.

Before you knocked, you noticed the door knocker was off to the side a little, out of habit you fixed it. Then you knocked. You nervously twisted your hair - you had only talked to your landlady once on the phone, she sounded nice, but the butterflies in your stomach failed to dissipate. You heard steps, and the door opened to reveal a cute old lady, Mrs. Hudson you presumed.

"You must be (y/n), please, come in."

"Yes, nice to meet you Mrs. - is it okay if I call you Mrs. Hudson?"

"Quite alright dear, now let's show you your flat. There's some furniture in there, I cleaned it up for you some, but you can make any changes you like."

"Whatever isn't there I can go buy, thank you for renting me the flat, I saw there were a lot of offers."

"Oh I don't care about the money, I choose by who would fit in best." You smiled at her comment, feeling special that she chose you. You walked past the stairs and heard some footsteps above, but nothing else. Mrs. Hudson didn't mention other tenants? She unlocked a door to the left and in you walked to your new home. It was tiny, but well-kept. The light shed in from the window casting a whispery glow that floated through the flat.

"How do you like it dear?"

"It's quaint and homey, I'll get along well with it."

"Glad to hear that (y/n). I'll let you get situated. If you need anything I'll be upstairs dealing with the others living here, don't be afraid to stop in and say hello. John doesn't bite, but I can't promise anything about Sherlock." Nodding, you thanked her again and she closed the door on her way out. Making your way to the bedroom whilst dragging your luggage along, you peeked in the bathroom, a sunflower yellow shower curtain hung on the tub. The bedroom had a mattress and dresser, thankfully. Scouting out the house more, you came to the conclusion you would need to only buy little necessities and your flat would be complete. Grabbing your purse, you exited the flat and locked it with your keys, a little sun dangling off the key chain. May as well introduce myself to the neighbors. You strolled up the stairs in a dizzying manner. Nervously you knocked on the door, the knocking sound as loud as gunshots. Wait, were those actual gun shots? Another shot was fired, and you ducked. The shots were coming from inside the flat, you had to intervene. You heard a groan, and a man's voice yell "BORED!"

Bored? What kind of serial killer psychopath was this that yelled "BORED!" when shooting people.

MRS. HUDSON.

She was in there, you had no choice but to go in there and try and save the sweet old lady. Taking deep breaths, you gathered yourself, knowing you may not come out alive. A shriek sounded inside the room, Mrs. Hudson, and you burst through the door. A round of shots rang out in the room, and you fell to the floor.

"Mrs. Hudson who is this and why is she interrupting my session?" You looked up and saw a man, a tall man, with curly black hair, and penetrating blue, maybe green, eyes. A gun rested lazily in his hand as he stared you down.

"New flatmate, (y/n), lives in the one downstairs," answered Mrs. Hudson from the kitchen. The man rolled his eyes and threw the gun onto the coffee table, then went and sat in a chair. You didn't want to move, what if he shot you? As if he read your mind he answered,

"I'm not going to shoot you." Too terrified to answer, you called to Mrs. Hudson asking if she was alright.

"Yes dear, I'm fine, I always get frightened at the sight of a gun, but Sherlock would never shoot me, just the wall for fun." It was safe to say you were confused. Confused because Mrs. Hudson wasn't shot, and because it seemed to be a normal thing for Sherlock, I think that's his name, to shoot a gun at the wall to entertain himself. Shaking your head, you looked up and found Sherlock still staring at you. Weirdo. You eyed him, trying to scare him off, but his stare was unbeatable. You felt vulnerable, like your face was a book, and your life was a bestseller.

"Why did you break up with your boyfriend?"

"Excuse me?" you sputtered. How did he know? "It wa-"

"Oh don't tell me, I already know. It was because you moved here and thought the relationship would be too hard, yet you still adore him. Another thing you adore seems to be a cat, which you reluctantly left at your old home, parents taking care of it? Ah parents, glad to finally get away from them I see? Suffocating you, also your dad is an old drunk so you were sick of taking care of his hangovers while your mother went to her posh club meetings with her high class friends. Speaking of friends, where are yours? Oh well one of them is having an affair with your boyfriend, which leads me back to the real reason you broke up with him." You couldn't even think, his words, which he said quite fast, were echoing around in your brain trying to be processed.

"How-uh-I-uh." Jibberish, that's all that came out. What you meant to say was WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND HOW DO YOU KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ME?

"Sherlock, did you have to?" asked Mrs. Hudson.

"I did have to because I needed to. It's been too long since I've had the chance to use the art of deduction upon a lucky citizen, I was getting kind of rusty don't you think? Perhaps round two with her will go a lot better." Although he hadn't gotten close to you in proximity, he had stayed in his chair, you had felt the bite Mrs. Hudson was talking about. As much as you wanted to run and scream and never come back, a part of you wanted to clap - so you did. You couldn't help it, his "deducing" was amazing, you had never seen anything like it. His eyes snapped up at your clapping, surprise flashed across his sculpted features, a smirk tugging at his lips, obviously happy about your proclaimed admiration, but he covered it up seconds later.

"Welcome to 221B (y/n)."

A/N

Long story short, I need to work on my deducing skills.

400+?! Again I'm amazed. Thank you guys so much for reading, it means the world, really.

I hope you enjoyed (proud of myself for using a different tense (past) of my word), I won't be able to write tonight nor tomorrow night, but maybe during the day tomorrow sometime. If not, next imagine should be posted Wednesday for sure.

Enjoy