Here, there and everywhere. [Anime X Reader One Shots]

England x Reader; It's Elementary.

Hi!! Okay, so in this you'll be the girl in the apartment above, and this is set during Jack the Ripper's era, mainly because I can then make you a prostitute for a BRIEF period of time, enjoy!!
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Street corners and brothels, that where (Y/N) spent most of her life, the rest of it was was spent at 221C Baker Street, next to the madman that was named Arthur, better known by the nickname 'Sherlock'.
                       Not only that, he lived with his partner in crime, nicknamed 'Watson', although he was called Gilbert. They would clatter in late at night, yelling and laughing.

One night there was another brutal murder, on the nicknamed 'Ripper Street', and it was the night (Y/N) was working.
              One sleaze-bag came up to her, running a hand through her (H/C), (H/S) locks. "Alright, darlin'? You look scrumptious, I can't wait to eat you all up." He slurred drunkenly, feeling (Y/N) up, despite her resisting.

"Oh please, you can't ever afford me, salary man. I'm out of your league, and your wife won't be too happy!" The girl replied, only for the sleazy male to pull a knife on her.
        "You're meant to do as I say, you whore! You slut! You're meant to do as I say, and for tha', I'm gunna cut ya into little pieces, and then feed ya to pigs at my farm!" He yelled at her, quickly throwing the knife into her body. [A/N; Sorry about the language, but it's the stuff we say in good old Britain, especially when talking to mates sometimes.]

Luckily, because she moved away in time, the blade only went into her shoulder, (Y/N) just wailed loudly, soon Scotland Yard appeared, and then Arthur and Gilbert followed.
Arthur looked around at the scene, and then spotted Gilbert with (Y/N), trying to pull out the blade. Arthur immediately ran over, staring at the scene, the blonde not knowing what to do in the situation. "Miss (Y/N), I had no idea this was your job..." He mumbled, only getting a glare.

"No shit, Sherlock. I've been doing this for years! To think, I may have been the seventh victim of Jack the Ripper and you're just realising that I'm a working girl." She smirked whilst hiding the fact she was in searing pain, then continued. "So much for being super intelligent." She mumbled, only to make Gilbert laugh.

Arthur sighed, running a hand over his face as he sighed. "Well, with Gilbert as your current attending physician and me as your neighbour, I disapprove of your actions and offer a place in 221B as a housekeeper." Arthur proposed, making the (H/C)'s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.
                   "Listen here, if you think that I will live with you, a psychopath, and your flatmate, you're sorely mistaken." She growled, only earning a glare from the consultant detective.

"I'm not a psychopath, I'm a high functioning sociopath, do your research." He grumpily mumbled, looking like a puppy that had been told off.
Gilbert laughed, and whilst he was laughing it managed to pull the knife from the (H/C)'s shoulder, earning a very loud hiss of pain and a slap.

"Asshole..." She growled.
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After a while of waiting around and taking statements, as well as tacking down the scum bag, Arthur and Gilbert helped (Y/N) back to their accommodations.

           Arthur and Gilbert took (Y/N) into their apartment, helping her up the stairs and gently resting her on the bench-chair. "I never got your last name, Miss..." Gilbert trailed off, waiting for a reply.

She replied simply by saying 'Hudson'. [A/N; I'm aware I'm lame]

The two 'detectives' looked at one another. "Well then, Miss Hudson, you will be working as our housekeeper from now on." Sherlock said, only to earn a glare from the now former prozzie.
        "What? Do you really think that I would allow a woman of your caliber and education work on the streets?" He said, Gilbert walking into the room with a tray of tea.

The (H/C) sighed, knowing there was no point resisting so she had some tea through a straw. "Will I be allowed to sleep in my own apartment?" She asked, expecting him to have some leeway.

         "Not until you have fully recovered and know how I like things around here to be organised." Arthur muttered, sipping his tea and reading the paper.

"Oh come on! I understand the recovery thing, but this really is taking the cake! I am a woman, capable of handling herself; a woman who was a street rat and a slag for the best part of ten years!" The (E/C)-eyed girl lectured, gently sipping her tea whilst Gilbert signed.

            "The problem for us, (Y/N), is that Sherlock over here keeps chasing away all the good housekeepers," the silver haired fox explained.
"The housekeepers are basically paid to act like babysitters with this lunatic, high functioning sociopath or full-blown psychopath."

After a long while of sullen silence and exchanging halted, (Y/N) spoke up. "Fine. As Lin as he doesn't drop eyeballs into tea mugs or let Anderson into that house." She grumbled, only for Gil and Arthur to smirk and share a soft chuckle at her next comment;
                   "When he opens his mouth, it lowers the I.Q of the entire street, and don't get me started on Lestrade, always barging in and causing a kerfuffle."

[Time skips because I'm Very tired and Very lazy.]

So, for the past three months, (Y/N) was recovering in 221B, and did small chores like dusting and making tea, making sure Arthur hadn't dropped any eyeballs (or other bodily organs) into their drinks.

         Giving insight to the genius who couldn't figure out what it was that kept causing death, seeing her fair share, but also growing fond of the sociopath, and the pair had accidentally got drunk off gown made wine made by Mycroft, which lead to an evening of clumsy and untraditional carnal activities... Within the first week of recovery.

(Y/N) was panicking; nothing like being two and a three quarter months late for the monthly river of death.
       Arthur had noticed a changed and provoked her, only getting replies like 'It'll blow over', 'I'm probably just tired' and unforgettably the classic 'Fuck off, bloody sociopath'.

But when it came down to it, the (H/C) was more concerned about how he would deal with it - he wasn't exactly the most caring or good at showing any sort of expression besides 'judging you'.

So she pulled him to one side and said it in plain terms to him:

"I'm pregnant, Arthur. And it's yours."