BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: First Fight

Huffing loudly, you stomped up the two steps to the door of 221B. Your keys jingled annoyingly in your hand as you struggled to unlock the door. 

"What the bloody- oh." The door was already unlocked. This was how your day had been going all day. First, you had spilled your coffee on your WHITE blouse, thank goodness you had a blazer to cover it up. Then, once you had got to the office, your boss told you that he "forgot" to mention you had a meeting with one of your most important clients. After calming down from that bomb of news, you prepared for your meeting. It was going rather smooth until one of the interns came in to alert you that your mom was calling. And no he did not pass you a note, or ask to see you outside, he blatantly walked in an announced it rather loudly. You did not want to interrupt this very important meeting, but what would they think if you declined a call from your mother for them? Hesitantly, you told Derek to tell her you would call her right back. Seconds later, Mrs. Cobner, the very important client, commented, "Did you just reject your own mom for me?", but then you cooly replied, "Well I think we're almost done here anyways right?", and then you wrapped up the sale. That was the only good part of the day. After that someone ate your lunch, and you didn't have any time to run and get any, then your boss dropped a whole big stack of paperwork on your desk and it pulled out the plug from your computer causing the project you were working on to be deleted. All in all, your day had been sucky and you wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch in a pair of sweats with a cup of tea, and binge watch a whole season of Doctor Who. Entering through the door, you ascended the stairs to your flat and heard voices.

"It doesn't make sense, if he disappeared while walking under the bridge, there has to be a passageway or something, someone can't disappear into thin air."

"Or can they?"

"No Sherlock they can't."

"Explain the - oh hi (y/n), fancy making John and I some tea? Mrs. Hudson is out getting us some muffins." Ignoring your demanding significant other, you walked to the bedroom and dropped your bag on the bed. 

"That was rather rude," said Sherlock.

"She's probably tired Sherlock, she doesn't want to wait on you, she just got off work."

"I've been working all day too." You snorted, working? He texted you today three times saying he was 'bored'. "Working" my arse. You slipped off your dress pants and slipped on some sweats. After removing your shirt you studied the stain - you had just bought the blouse last week, you'd hate to see it ruined. Groaning, you threw it on top of the washer as you walked down the hall.

"So how about that cuppa?" asked Sherlock innocently. I work all day and then come home and have to work some more. I love my life. Reluctantly, you boiled the water. Out of the corner of your eye you saw John give Sherlock a look and start to lecture him quietly. Thank you John, at least someone understands. Taking off the water, you poured it over the tea bags in the cups, then set them on a tray and them to the boys. 

"Thank you so much (y/n)," said John. You grimaced and walked back to the kitchen. 

"(Y/n)," Sherlock started, "I didn't want this flavor." Breathe breathe breathe... But that was it, his comment was enough to open the floodgates, letting all the tension from today seep out. Tears flowed from your eyes. Embarrassed, you stormed to the bedroom and slammed the door. You couldn't do anything right today. But you had tried. You tried to make Sherlock happy and he was so ungrateful... Breaking out of your misery, anger started to take over your senses. A knock came from the door. You groaned loudly, hoping Sherlock would go away. 

"(Y/N), it's me, Sherlock Holmes."

"Yeah I know, I'm not an idiot."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to." Silence. The door opened and he stepped in, eyes scanning the room, they refused to land on you. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say that," your heart softened - he was going to say sorry, "I think the way you treated me when you got home was very unfair, to say the least." Spoke to soon. Steam was rising out of your ears, it had to be. 

"You think the way I treated YOU was unfair? Sherlock I had a horrible day today and I just wanted to come home and rest, but no I had to wait on YOU, because YOU can't take care of yourself. Why can't you wait on me? Oh because then it's about me and not YOU. It's always about YOU."

"By the amount you are using the word 'you' in your argument, it seems you are the one focusing it on me." 

"No, stop. I'm not dealing with your comments today."

"What about tomorrow?" He smirked, probably thought he was SOOO funny for that comment. Smart arse. 

"BLIMEY CAN YOU JUST LISTEN TO WHAT I'M SAYING AND NOT HAVE TO GET IN THE LAST WORD?" His mouth dropped slightly in surprise; I never yelled at him, he knew this was serious.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"Yeah well sorry is not good enough sometimes." You brushed past him, tears threatening to spill out again. You didn't like fighting with Sherlock, your relationship was restricted enough when it came to communication. He stayed in his room for a couple hours while you attempted to watch Doctor Who, but your heart wasn't in it. You just wanted to hug him, and laze around on the couch drinking tea while he fed you information on topics you did not understand. The bedroom door opened. Pretending not to notice as he walked into the kitchen, you waited for him to say something, but he put a kettle on the stove and stayed silent. Fine, make your own damn tea, I hope it's the wrong flavor again. After a couple minutes he poured a single cup and put it on a small dish, then shuffled to the living room. He set it in front of you, and stood blocking the telly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I forgive you." You padded the seat next to you, and he sat down. Scooting closer, you latched yourself to his arm. Since he felt bad still, he let you without complaining, but when you looked up he was smiling. You grabbed the tea off the table and took a quick drink.

"Sherlock," he looked up, the mall smile still playing on his lips, "I didn't want this flavor." 

A/N

300+ reads and 31 votes?!?! Y'all are AMAZING, bless your hearts. 

This was a hard imagine to write, I mean how would Sherlock argue in a relationship? How would he act if he went too far with his snarky comments? 

Thank you for the comments, they're quite encouraging. I love writing these, partly because it seems you guys enjoy (there's my word!) them and I'm a people pleaser, but also it's a blast and helps me through this hellish hiatus (I thought that was a clever alliteration).

I'm running out of ideas now even though last author's note I said I had a lot (short term memory probs), so please folks, send in some requests for ANY character.

Enjoy!