Dissection on a Dining Table (Sherlock)

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“No! You can’t dissect a murder victim’s brain, ON OUR TABLE, at three in the morning!”

“Darling, I need to! This has been plaguing me all night!”

“What are they arguing about this time?” Mrs. Hudson asks, walking out of her room in a very tired state. She stops beside Watson where they both begin watching (Y/n) and Sherlock bicker. “Sherlock is wanting to examine the latest murder victim.” John explains, squinting his eyes to focus. “Was that the man hanging up in the shower?” Mrs. Hudson asks, referring to the murder victim. Watson nods. “Yes.”

Sighing, (Y/n) places a hand to her forehead, tired and slightly frustrated. “Darling, I will clean everything up by morning; I swear.” Sherlock assures her, taking her hands in his. Slowly, she gives in and looks up at the handsome blue eyed man before smiling and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “But,” She says, walking away from him and into the kitchen where she opens a counter drawer. “You have to wear these.” (Y/n) says, taking out a pair of clear examination goggles. Sherlock smiles as she walks back, handing him the glasses before he gratefully takes them, giving her a peck on the cheek as thanks. “Now, go back to bed. I’ll take a shower when I’m done and join you; I won’t be that long.” He tells her. (Y/n) nods before turning and beginning to walk back to their room.

Watson’s eyes quickly widen before he ushers Mrs. Hudson back to her room, running into his own room afterwards. Very tired, (Y/n) doesn’t even notice as she walks into her room and shuts the door behind her, quickly flopping down onto her bed, cuddling Sherlock’s pillow to her chest. Closing her eyes, she anticipates for Sherlock to be done with his… job before quickly falling asleep.

At four in the morning, (Y/n) slightly awakens to arms wrapping around her. She turns to face the arms’ holder, only for wet curls to brush against her forehead. Opening her eyes, (Y/n) smiles at Sherlock who is smiling as well. She then wraps her arms around his neck, cuddling close to his body before snuggling her head into his neck. “What did you find in the man’s brain?” (Y/n) asks, closing her eyes. “A minor blood clot; cause of death to be a stroke due to alcoholism.” Sherlock deduces. Tiredness getting the best of her, she yawns and nods her head. “Well, that’s good.” (Y/n) murmurs, very tired. Sherlock, noticing her exhaustion, chuckles before kissing the top of her head. “Goodnight, my darling.” He says, making her smile. “Goodnight, my love.” she replies before falling asleep, peacefully.

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