SHERLOCK Preferences and Oneshots

Too Nice (Sherlock x Reader)

You woke up to the smell of bacon being fried, coffee being brewed, and soft classical music being played. This confused you, as usually that was what your boyfriend Sherlock would wake up to, since you normally awoke before him (if he had decided to sleep the night prior at all). 

Groggily, you staggered into the flat kitchen, your fingers fumbling to finish tying the knot in your robe strings. You saw Sherlock standing at the stove cooking bacon and eggs, going between the stove and the fridge. He would go to the stove to shift the bacon in the skillet or stir the slowly cooking scrambled eggs, then skip over to the fridge to pull out shredded cheese or creamer for the coffee. 

You frowned, confused. Why on earth would Sherlock, the high-functioning sociopath, make your breakfast? He never did anything like this. He would wait to eat breakfast until you made it, no matter how long it would take. He wasn't exactly the patient type.

"Sherlock?" you quietly grabbed his attention. He spun around so fast he almost fell over, and put on the biggest grin possible. 

"(Y/n)! Darling! Come, sit down, eat!"

You took a step back; this side of Sherlock was one you'd never seen before, not even in your dreams. Smiles, pet names, and breakfast? Something had to be up. "Eat what?" you asked.

"Breakfast!" he chirped, and set down a large plate of hot food on the kitchen table in front of you. "Eat up!"

You couldn't deny it, the food looked amazing...weirdly enough. Had Sherlock ever cooked before in his life? You leaned over to smell the eggs, bacon, then the coffee. Your nose detected nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing looked discolored. Maybe he really was just being extra sweet after all?...but with the way he was staring at you, waiting for you to try a bite sort of raised a couple red flags. Cautiously, you poked your fork into the scrambled eggs, and lifted it to your mouth. Tasted normal...

And that was the last thing you thought.

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You woke up a few hours later in Sherlock's bed, your eyelids and your stomach a bit heavy. Swallowing nauseously, you attempted to stand, but ended up falling back onto the bed. You swallowed again and took a shaky breath.

"Shuurrr..." you slurred, your voice a hoarse whisper, in an attempt to call for your boyfriend. "Shur..erlock..." you said a little stronger. "Sherlock...where a-are you?" Your voice kept cracking annoyingly, but you were afraid to speak any louder, for fear using any more muscles near your stomach would cause you to throw up.

Sherlock then walked into the room with a grin on his face, but it soon fell when he saw the state you were in. "Oh dear God, (Y/n)..." he muttered and helped you into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

You cocked an eyebrow as you looked up at your boyfriend through your lashes, and leaned back against your hand, taking a shaky breath in. "Am I all right?" you repeated quietly. "Is that seriously a question you feel would be wise to ask?"

"Well, you...don't look that well, and I-"

"Look why don't you just man up and tell my why you decided to drug me, Sherlock," you interrupted your boyfriend.

The detective sighed and sat down beside you, slapping his hands onto his knees. "I'm sorry, (Y/N), but I needed to see if my advanced anesthesia worked. I figured you wouldn't mind too terribly, seeing as you love to sleep so much, however..." he glanced over at you and swallowed nervously, "I did not realize the side affects would come into play. I thought the new formula I had concocted would have eliminated them all."

You nodded, the annoyance of once again unknowingly being Sherlock Holmes' guinea pig melting away a little. "It's okay. Just...please stop experimenting on me. Or at least if you want me to try something for you, simply ask me. I wouldn't mind nearly so much if I knew what I was getting into. Deal?"

"Deal."