Sherlock Imagines

JW - Kiss the Girl

Word count: 1128

(WARNING: LITERALLY STARTING FROM THE FIRST SENTENCE, THIS STORY PART CONTAINS A MAJOR SPOILER FOR SEASON 4 EPISODE 1)

When Mary died, John asked you to watch Rosie for a few days. He said you didn't have to if it was too much trouble, but he knew you wouldn't refuse. Who would, after Mary was just ripped from his life?

You were wiping off your kitchen counters, your sleeves pushed up and your hair in a bun, the stray hairs held back by a headband. The doorbell rang and you rushed to the door, opening it to see John holding his daughter. You smiled at her, then at him. He paused for a moment, then showed a quick, small smile.

"Hello Rosie," you said in a high pitched, but soft, voice. As John passed Rosie and a duffle bag to you, he couldn't help but admire you. No, John scolded himself. He thanked you and rubbed Rosie's back before turning to leave.

The sound of his shoes hitting the pavement was the only noise he heard until she spoke. "I'm dead, you know."

John glared at his dead wife, his hallucination. "You don't need to feel guilty for liking her," Mary reasoned, only to receive John's cold eyes again.

"No, I do feel guilty. Because you're my wife," he said.

"We're together until death do us part, John," she pointed out. "Death has taken me. I'm a hallucination. For God's sake, you're talking to yourself! I love you, for God's sake, so tell your therapist about me and grieve and begin to move on!" she was crying now, shouting at John. John resisted the urge to shout back because people would stare and notice no one else was there.

You bounced Rosie on your hip as upbeat music played, making her giggle. You smiled and continued moving to the music as you stirred batter with your free hand. Then there was a loud knock at the door. You thought it was John, who maybe forgot to leave something for Rosie. But you opened the door to see the one and only Sherlock Holmes.

"Is John here?" he asked, looking at Rosie. You shook your head. "But you're welcome to stay," you offered, opening the door a bit. He looked like he was going to say no, but he stepped in.

"Are you looking after her alone?" Sherlock asked. You nodded.

"Can I. . ." he started, reaching out to Rosie. You smiled and handed her off, then went back to stirring. You poured the batter in a pan and slid it into the oven. Sherlock only stay led a few more minutes before giving you Rosie and heading off to God knows where.

You didn't see John for a few days. The next time he came by, his eyes were droopier but he still smiled when he saw you and Rosie on your hip. You welcomed him inside and you both sat on the couch, Rosie on his lap. 

"Thank you for watching her," John said. "And I'm sorry to just hand her off to you so suddenly, I know you have your own life and all."

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. It was fun not being alone," you smiled at Rosie. 

"Sorry about that too. It must've been hard to suddenly take care of a baby by yourself," he stared off, his voice quiet. 

You looked at him sympathetically. "I can help you. . . Check up on Rosie and you every so often."

"Rosie and me?" He inquired, sort of chuckling.

"Yes, you too. To make sure you've taken care of yourself as well as to make sure you've taken care of Rosie," you explained. You couldn't help but wonder if the crush you had on the veteran had anything to do with the fact that you were so willing to help him. 

Every day, you'd call to check up on John and Rosie. You'd ask if he ate breakfast and/or lunch. If he took care of Rosie when need be and paid attention to her. You'd go over around five o'clock and you even cooked dinner for the first week or so, until he said you didn't have to do that, and that he'd do it. You'd take Rosie off his hands for a bit and play with her. You'd talk to John and ask what he did that day. Really just anything you could do to help. 

It had been two and a half weeks since you'd started checking up on them. Sherlock had John running around with him on a case to get him out of the house, so you babysat Rosie for the whole day at John's house. It became dark outside, and you had already put Rosie to sleep. You sat on the couch in his living room and waited for him to get home. While you waiting, your eyes became droopy. A little nap couldn't hurt.

You didn't hear the door open, and John's footsteps echoing as he wandered through his house. He finally found you, fast asleep, and assumed Rosie was asleep as well. He didn't know why he did it so naturally without missing a beat, but he leaned down and kissed your forehead. That woke you up, of course. Your eyes opened and your face turned crimson. John retracted like he'd just touched a hot stove. "I- I don't know what came over me. You can go home now," he said, turning to walk away. You grabbed his sleeve, causing him to halt. You slowly stood up and walked around to face him. His face was red and he had tears in his eyes.

To his left, his dead wife was telling him it was okay. That he was allowed to do that. But it still didn't feel right to John.

You cupped his face and wiped under his eyes. "John, it's okay," you whispered.

"No, it's not okay! My wife died, what, three weeks ago? And here I am kissing you," he sulked.

"You feel guilty because you feel like you've moved on too soon?" you inquired, like a therapist. John nodded.

"I know you haven't moved on yet. You're still grieving, and that's okay. I know you still see her, John," He looked up at you. "I notice your eyes following her, even though there's nothing there. I notice you talking to her when you think no one's listening."

John was looking off to the side again. "What is she telling you, John?" you asked, curious.

"She's angry with me," he says vaguely. "She's telling me to kiss you."

You stood on your tiptoes and gently pressed your mouth to his. He slowly began kissing you back.

(A/N) shit ending I know sry