You walk into the kitchen earlier than usual to make a nice breakfast. Last night, when Sherlock kissed you, you didn't know what to think. What does this mean between the two of you? Relationships are so overrated in your eyes, but what did that mean to him?
Perhaps acting calm and as if everything is normal will work, you decide. How much can you really expect from Sherlock? He's obviously not one for being something as mainstream as a couple. For now, you'll let him make the next move and sit back and relax.
"Sherlock!" you call as you make your breakfast.
You hear a door creek open before Sherlock emerges from his room with a white sheet wrapped around his otherwise naked body and his hair even more messy than usual.
"What?" he asks lazily in a sleepy voice.
Chuckling at his appearance, you turn back to the food. "Breakfast?" you ask.
"Please," Sherlock mumbles as he tries to go and sit down before you stop him.
"You are not eating in that sheet. Go get dressed. We have work to do," you direct.
Sherlock grumbles and goes back to his bedroom as you snicker at his adorable nature. A sleepy Sherlock is definitely the best Sherlock.
You put the food into two plates and pour glasses of (F/D) before setting them onto the table where Sherlock thankfully hasn't put up his science equipment yet. You sit with your back to Sherlock's bedroom door and resist turning around when you hear it open and his footsteps pad across the flooring.
"Glad you finally managed to get some sleep," you say, beginning to dig into your food as Sherlock sits in his seat.
"Only because I didn't feel so anxious after last night," he replies, taking a sip from his glass.
"What did happen last night exactly?"
Sherlock seems to grow uncomfortable and fiddles with his utensil. "I-"
He's effectively cut off as both of your phones vibrate and you mentally curse the world. You bring out yours and see that it's a text from Lestrade and you and Sherlock are needed on another case.
"So much for that," you mumble, quickly finishing up your food and standing. "Let's go."
Sherlock consumes the rest of what's on his plate before following after you. You exit 221B and Sherlock hails a taxi. He opens the door and allows you to hop in first as he slides in next to you.
After twenty minutes of comfortable silence with you staring out the window and not daring to look at Sherlock, the taxi comes to a stop on a deserted road where three police cars and an ambulance are waiting.
Sherlock jumps out of the taxi and puts his hand out for you to take and step down. He looks reluctant to let go, but does and the two of you walk toward the scene that is closed off by yellow tape.
"Oh, look. The freaks again," Donovan scoffs.
Something snaps in you and you march over and punch her square in the face. She yelps and craddles her jaw.
"I could arrest you for that!" she screeches.
"For what? I'm sorry, did anyone see anything?" you question, noticing Lestrade standing off to the side.
"No, nothing," Greg says. "Sherlock, you see anything?"
"Nope," Sherlock replies with a grin.
You turn your back and Sherlock holds the tape up for you to go under and you begin following Greg.
"I don't think you needed to go that far," Sherlock says.
"She annoys the hell out of me. Plus, I know it bothers you."
"No, it doesn't," he states.
You glance up at Sherlock. "Yes, it does. You just won't admit it."
Silence falls until you arrive at a lake surrounded by a small patch of grass and there's a person being zipped up in a body bag.
"We suspect the victim was murdered by being forcibly drowned," Greg explains.
You and Sherlock step forward on the crime scene and begin assessing the evidence you've been presented with as Lestrade looks on in fascination.
"He fell," you and Sherlock answer simultaneously and stand to face Greg.
"How? The water is only a foot deep. Surely he could've just stood up."
"Well," you begin, "the drag marks he left on his shoes are an obvious clue as they're facing away from the lake."
"No one would come and push someone into a lake for no reason, so the man would've seen it coming," Sherlock continues.
You pull Sherlock to stand in front of the lake facing you and grab him by the coat. "You see, if I were to push him into the water, he would try to push my weight away. His drag marks would go toward the lake and there would also be a second set of marks indicating a culprit."
Sherlock turns around and drags his feet on the grass. "It's obviously quite slippery, and if the man slipped, he would have fell face-first into the water. With the shock of the fall, he would have his mouth open in surprise, so when he hit the lake, his lungs would fill up with water."
"Then he would begin panicking and the water would drown him. Simple."
You and Sherlock face Lestrade who has his mouth agape, then, out of nowhere, Anderson comes strolling up to the scene with a doubtful face.
"How do you know it wasn't set up that way?"
"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the whole street," Sherlock says.
"More like the whole country," you mutter.
You and Sherlock start walking away without another glance and then burst out laughing. You look at each other and the dazzling smile he sends you nearly makes you faint.
"That was a good one. I wish I had thought of it," you compliment.
"He is a joke within himself, I just voice it," Sherlock replies.
You walk along side each other and exchange in casual conversation, sharing a laugh once in a while. Neither you nor Sherlock has ever been so relaxed in another person's presence before now. It's like a mutual bond of trust floating around you.
You know the moment when you finally accept something that you otherwise have repressed? Like a death or a situation you wish you could forget? Well, in this very moment, you have decided to let your feelings out of their cage within you.
Sherlock Holmes. The man they say feels nothing, the man people say doesn't have a heart. You cannot even think to believe any of it as you smile and laugh with him as if you've known each other for ages. He tells you about his old cases and stories about he and John and you listen intently. You tell him stories of your travels and the places you've been and he does the same.
You know some of what goes on in Sherlock's mind and how disturbed most of it is and can be, but right now, you see that sparkle in his eye and you know you've accepted both sides of him.
Once you accept that we're all imperfect, it's the most liberating thing in the world. Then you can go around making mistakes and saying the wrong thing and tripping over on the street and all that and not feel worried.
Whatever happens, you know that no one can make you feel the way your partner in justice does. And as you walk two hours all the way back to the flat, not once even thinking about getting a taxi, you know you don't need a case to be free of boredom when you have Sherlock Holmes by your side. Surprisingly, he feels the same way.
YOU ARE READING
Exception || Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Fanfiction(Y/N) (L/N) works for Mycroft Holmes and has for years, but when Mycroft's brother, Sherlock, fakes his suicide, Mycroft needs someone to take his place. He decides there is no one better than (Y/N) who has nearly identical abilities to his little b...
