SHERLOCK Preferences and Oneshots

I'm Here For You (Sherlock)

You sighed and wearily shoved your key into the door of 221B. You couldn't wait to just relax and fix yourself a nice cuppa. And, of course, to see your boyfriend Sherlock Holmes. If he was home, that is.

While trudging up the stairs, you hear some slight thumping in your shared flat, and a smile makes its way to the surface of your face. You peek around the door as you slowly open it, and soon Sherlock comes into view.

"Hello, good looking." You stroll into the room and set down your purse on a space in the kitchen countertop where none of your boyfriend's science equipment was laying.

"Hello," Sherlock says curtly as he is seemingly searching the flat for something. "How was em...the uh..."

"Shopping?" you provide, a bemused grin showing your amusement at his scrambling about. "It was great. I got all the groceries we needed, and I found an adorable new dress for this lovely spring weather we've been having." You began to put away your food purchases and turned to see Sherlock on his hands and knees, throwing random items around.

"What are you doing, love?" you asked in exasperation.

"Looking for...a crime scene report Gavin gave me...earlier," he answered distractedly, continuing to chuck shoes and old newspapers over his shoulders.

Glancing down at the small dining table in the middle of the kitchen, you saw a manilla folder that you guessed held the report Sherlock had referred to, and you peeked inside to discover that you were right. You smirked and held it up. "Is this it?"

Your boyfriend's head snapped up to see that you were holding his desired object, and a rare smile spread across his face. "Yes!" he cried, getting up (and nearly falling over) to run to you.

"Yes, that's it! Wherever did you find it?" he asked curiously, reaching out for the folder, which you handed over with a shrug. 

"Just here on the table. How's the case going? Besides losing the occasional crime scene file?" you asked with a half teasing voice.

"Decently," he responded, his eyes fixed on the photos and long paragraphs on the many random sheets of paper. Just after he spoke, his stomach let out a loud grumble, and in turn you let out a loud laugh. 

"You sound in need of food, darling," you giggled, craning your head down to stare at the clear blue eyes that were focused on the crime scene report.

Sherlock gave a distracted shrug, and you glared at him, taking a step closer. "Sherlock, I don't care if you're busy or not, you need to eat. It's essential in order to stay alive; you know that."

"I don't have time," he mumbled.

"Can I make a deal with you then?" you asked, an idea springing into your head.

Your boyfriend looked up curiously, his eyebrows scrunched together. "All right."

"You eat, I help you with your case." You playfully poked your finger into his muscular chest, and his lips pulled up into a small smile.

"Deal."

You nodded and moved to the fridge to grab some leftover food. "Good, I'll make you something. Clear off the table, will you?"

"Yes ma'am," Sherlock chirped as he grabbed beakers, papers, and Petri dishes off of the dining table.

"Ooh, someone's learned their manners," you sang out cheerfully, the detective chuckling behind you.

Soon enough you had fixed up a simple meal (mostly leftovers from a stew you had made a couple days before) and you and Sherlock were able to enjoy eating together again.

You helped him later that evening with his case, and merely over the time it took the both of you to eat dessert you had solved the difficult puzzle, much to Sherlock's surprise and dismay. You never let him hear the end of that.