Sherlock Imagines

Imagine Sherlock created a new type of chloroform and used it on you

Imagine Sherlock accidently created a new type of chloroform and used it in you

(Yn) = your name
(Fbn) = your favorite book name
(Ec) = eye color

"(Yn) come here!"

You glance up from your (fbn) warily.

"Why Sherlock?" You ask watching him as he comes from the kitchen wearing goggles, a nurses mask and a maniacal grin.

His grin widens as he holds a vial up to the light.

"I have created a new type of medication," He explains now dumping the vial's contents onto a cloth.

You look back down at your book.

"Cool."

"Cool? It is an advance in science (yn). How can this just be "cool" ?"

You look back up at him and jump with surprise.

The freakin dude is standing six inches away! FROM YOUR FACE!

"GAH!"

You fall off of John's recliner and your book goes flying.

Landing hard on your tush you glower up at the detective.

"Ever heard of PERSONAL SPACE?"
You growl rubbing your back, which you had scraped against the floor.

"(Yn), you have to see this," called Sherlock who was ignoring your plight and now focusing on something in the kitchen.

Rolling your eyes you realize if you don't give him the attention he so desperately wants then he's just going to keep bothering you until you give up and never get to finish your book.

You sigh and enter the kitchen.

"What is it, Sherlock?"

He looks up and grins at you.

You have to contain your grin as you look him over. He's still in his purple pajamas and his black curls are a mess upon his head. His aquamarine eyes with flecks of gold in them light up as he examines his final work.

What is he holding?

It was in fact a damp blue cloth.

Sherlock smirks at you and holds out the cloth.

"Smell it, (yn)."

Your eyebrows raise.

"Excuse me?"

"Smell it," Sherlock prods as he pushes the cloth towards your hand.

"Uh no. Or well not until you tell me what the heck it is," You say slowly trying to back away.

"It is a scientific experiment designed to provide the brain for more energy so it can function at higher speeds."

You snort with laughter.

"You made brain steroids?"

"Yes," Sherlock answers calmly.

"And you want me to try it?"

"Obviously," replies Sherlock rolling his eyes.

You watch him through narrowed eyes as you take the cloth. Hesitantly you hold it up to your nose and take a whiff.

You almost puke.

It smells like smoke, acid, other chemicals and for some odd reason, oranges.

What the fudge?

You push it back to him your nose wrinkling with disgust.

"Ugh, Holmes, bad call," you mutter. Suddenly a bout of lightheadedness strikes you and you wobble slightly.

In an instant Sherlock is by your side holding you steady. One hand grasps your arm the other rests on your back.

"(Yn)?"

"I'm fine," you mutter your eyelids fluttering as you push him away and try to get back to your chair.

Oh this does not feel good, you think as your brain begins to fog.

"I just need, my, um, reaady, woordy, papery thingy," you say grinning up at him through overly bright (ec) eyes.

"(Yn)," Sherlock repeats watching you warily, "You are unwell. I believe my invention needs some work."

"You need some work," you cry drunkenly as you nearly faceplant onto the carpet.

Sherlock catches you by your elbows and lifts you up trying to get you to stand on your feet but you lean against him putting your head in his neck.

"(Yn), stop," he mutters trying to push you upright, "(yn), I  consider myself-"

"Married I your work, yeah whatever, Sherly, doesn't mean I can't still love you," you mutter into his neck.

He pulls you off of him and peers at you closely.

"What?" You mumble fighting to stay awake.

"You what?"

Even in your highly drugged state you blush.

"I love you, Idiot," you state before collapsing once more.

Sherlock catches you again and this time slips his hands under your legs and behind your back, managing to lift you easily.

You rest your head on his shoulder softly. Darkness clouds your vision and just before you black out completely you hear,

"Your feelings are reciprocated, (yn)."

A smile graces your lips as you pass out in the sociopath's arms.