BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: The Thing

"So tell me, what do you find so intriguing about me?" you asked playfully as you waltzed back to the flat, you hitched to his arm. You two had spent the night with your sister and her new boyfriend, where at the table he had shared every single thing he liked about her, from the appetizer all the way to dessert. She giggled and blushed, occasionally adding in how she found the same thing incredibly adorable about him. You had wanted to puke the whole time and Sherlock could barely keep his mouth shut, but you had begged him not to say anything. After bidding them goodbye, you and Sherlock had spent the walk home mocking the couple and their mushy relationship.

"It's not one specific trait. You possess multiple traits that I find attractive, but more over, you have the thing." He stated the last words with such normality, like it explained itself.

"What's the thing?" you asked curiously.

"You know, the thing," he said nonchalantly. You shook your head in confusion. He rolled his eyes like you were the only person on earth who didn't know what the thing was. Drama queen.

"Please, explain." He sighed loudly, readying himself for what must be a hefty explanation.

"For every guy, there is a thing that draws him to a girl." You stared blankly, waiting for more explanation, but he had shut his mouth, eyes set forward.

"That's it?" He looked down at you, again like you were stupid. "Don't give me that look Sherlock Holmes, remember I do not have the same brain as you."

"Yes, but I thought you had some brain." You smacked him on the arm and his eyes lit up.

"See! That's part of the thing!" he exclaimed.

"Me hitting you and getting all worked up?" He nodded, lips pressed together in a tight smile. "I still don't understand."

"You're starting to sound like John." You rolled your eyes.

"Seriously Sherlock."

"I don't know how else to explain it to you (y/n), that's really as simple as I can go." You continued to walk, clinging to his arm, lost in thought. Then an idea sprung into your mind.

"Is it my boobs?" you asked in all seriousness. He chuckled, then looked over and noticed how serious you were. His face turned nervous.

"N-n-no," he sputtered out. The side of his mouth twitched and you knew you had made him uncomfortable. He gulped, then tried again to explain himself. "It's not something you... grow. It's just something you have. The way you act, speak, carry yourself, et cetera. It's just you." You smiled, that was close to the sweetest thing he had ever said to you. He had, for once, complimented you without adding on an insult at the end. It made your heart flutter and your insides melt. To any other girl this would have been meaningless words. But to you, it was much more. Maybe that was the thing you had, the ability to translate Sherlock's dictated words into terms of endearment.

A/N

Incredibly short and I apologize for that.

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