Sherlock Holmes [Reader Insert]

Chapter 3

The two of them led you quickly back to 221B Baker Street. As the buildings grew into taller, more solid brick homes, you relaxed. You felt safe again, at least for the moment. The walk had been quiet, but now Mr. Holmes spoke.

"I'll meet you here early in the morning," he told Watson. "We'll look into that safe house and see what we can find."

Watson nodded and then started to walk off. Before he got too far, he turned back around and said, "Don't forget that we're supposed to have dinner tomorrow. Mary would be quite upset if you missed it."

Holmes deflated slightly. "Right, wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Right," Watson rolled his eyes and turned back around. "Be there, Sherlock!" he called back as he walked away.

"I'll be there," Holmes huffed.

You pursed your lips and followed the man to the front door of 221 Baker Street. After a quiet moment you asked, "We still have half the day today. Why not investigate the safe house now?"

Holmes shook his head. "It's at the edge of town- quite the distance from here. By the time we get there the people inside will be up and about, ready to go about their villainous day. But if we wait until early morning, they will be mostly deep in sleep, having been up late committing whatever crime was set for the day, or traveling under the dark of night."

"Says the detective that does not seem to sleep," you noted the irony.

Mr. Holmes rolled his eyes. "Come upstairs. We have to prepare."

"We?" you asked, confused.

He didn't answer, but led you up the stairs.

"Home in time for lunch!" you heard Mrs. Hudson call from the kitchen. "You had luck finding information, then?"

"Yes," you called back before following Holmes into his room. He shut the door behind you.

He stepped into the room before turning to look at you. He put one arm across his chest to hold the elbow of the other, his hand resting on his chin. He narrowed his eyes and looked at you.

"What is it?" you asked after a brief moment, unsure of his motives.

"I may have just the thing," he told you, "Wait here." He turned and approached a chest by the door across the room. He opened it and dug through it, occasionally laying a piece of clothing on the chair behind his desk. When he was done he gathered up the small pile and walked over to you before holding it out. "They may be a little large, but they should do the trick."

With a furrowed brow, you took them. A pair of dark trousers, a button-down shirt, a vest, and a hat- the kind you had seen on the little boy trying to sell newspapers. "Why...?"

"Tomorrow," Mr. Holmes explained, "you'll be a boy. If we hide your hair in the hat you might trick some people." When you said nothing, he huffed. "Try it on!"

"Alright," you stood quickly, motivated by Holmes' lack of patience. You stepped across the hall and began to change. The pants were a little large at the waist, but nothing a belt wouldn't fix, the shirt fit over nicely, and the vest was made for a man's figure, but you were able to get it buttoned. The fit was structured enough that the closure didn't gape at your chest, though it was a little tight. Finally, you pulled your hair into a bun at the back of your head, put a pin through it, and then put the hat on. You looked at yourself in the small mirror hanging by the door for a moment and at first glance you were caught off guard. You could've been a young man, not yet able to grow a beard. After that brief moment you recognized yourself and the illusion was gone.