THE BAKER STREET TRIO (SHERLOCK X READER)

Chapter 35: Revelations

Y/N rose slowly on Sunday morning.

She'd stayed up late the night before, enthralled with a book. Sherlock was finishing up a case, so Y/N didn't feel rude withdrawing to John's chair ― really their shared chair now ― with her novel. While Sherlock disassembled his case board, Y/N got comfortable and sipped a cup of tea while she read.

She began sitting upright. Eventually, her legs made their way over the arm of the chair so she was sitting sideways. A short while after that, she pulled her long limbs in, curling up in the chair and continuing to read.

Sherlock contacted his client, arranging to meet in the next few days to review the solution of the case. He looked over at Y/N, as was his habit. The corner of his mouth quirked up at the sight of her new position. His flatmate was blissfully unaware of the world around her, occupied by the characters she felt she knew. The tall detective wasn't much for fiction, but decided to give it a try since he had nothing better to do at the moment.

Sherlock walked over to the bookshelf and selected Y/N's favorite: Persuasion. He made it about four pages in, and found he loathed it. Austen talked about connections and people and feelings and he easily understood how Y/N could love it, but he was already bored.

Y/N smiled and read her own book as fast as she could, inhaling the happy conclusion. Y/N shut her book, reveling in the goosebumps on her arms and the satisfaction of having completed a wonderful story. Y/N had a glow about her in that moment―an aura of contentment and lovliness no one could resist if they tried. She looked up, suddenly aware of someone looking at her.

Sherlock stared at her. His blue eyes trapped her, as they always did. Sherlock turned the page of his book without shifting his gaze. Y/N felt a shiver travel down her spine.

"Happily ever after?" Sherlock asked.

"The best kind." Y/N said, sitting upright again. "Love and friendship for all those who deserve it."

"The wonders of fiction." Sherlock mused.

Y/N yawned. "Indeed."

"You should go to bed." He suggested.

Y/N yawned again, nodding in sleepy agreement. Sherlock smiled.

"Sweet dreams, Sherlock." Y/N said with a smile before heading up to her bedroom.

"Good night, Y/N." Sherlock replied.

Sherlock turned his attention reluctantly back to the story of Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth. "They were gradually acquainted, and when acquainted, rapidly fell in love...Troubles soon arose...More than seven years were gone since this little history of sorrowful interest had reached its close...No one had ever come within the Kellynch circle, who could bear a comparison to Frederick Wentworth as he stood in her memory."

"Perhaps not always fiction..." Sherlock said to himself, reading on despite himself.

Sunlight brushed against Y/N's eyelids, encouraging her to stir and greet the day. She lazily rolled out of bed and trudged into the kitchen. Y/N tried to tame her hair while the kettle boiled.

Sherlock's client had already come and gone. He sat in his chair, reading. Y/N brought her tea into the sitting room and sat cross legged in her chair. The sleeves of her sweater were pulled down over her hands. She took a sip of her tea.

"What are you reading?" Y/N asked.

"Why didn't Anne tell Wentworth she still loved him?" Sherlock asked.

"You're reading Persuasion? " Y/N exclaimed.

"When he came back, why didn't she tell him?"

"Well, because things had changed so much." Y/N said. "She'd lost money, he'd become rich, they hadn't spoken in eight years. The only thing that stayed the same was her feelings, but how was she to know he felt the same, especially since she rejected him. And then, of course, she thought he was in love with Louisa, and with Mr. Elliot suddenly in the picture―well, you've read it."