BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: Dress Up

Request for @camcrusher123

~

Bored. You felt like Sherlock when he shot the wall. You wanted to shoot the wall. You wanted to do anything to get out of this bored funk you were stuck in. Sherlock and John had deserted you to solve a case (as usual) and Mrs. Hudson was out getting groceries. So here you sat, alone, in an empty flat, just you and the skull. Even the skull is having more fun than me and he's dead. You started laughing, hysterically, but it soon turned into a fake chuckle that you choked out and listened to it echo through the empty rooms of the flat. I need a life. You fell back onto the couch cushions dramatically, and when you found it gave you the slightest hint of enjoyment, you continued to do it for five more minutes. After awhile your head started to hurt, so you decided to stop. Maybe I should take a nap. My dreams can keep me entertained. Grabbing the pillows off the couch, you threw them on a floor in a line, making a game where the carpet was lava and the pillows were rocks you had to stay on, something you used to play as a child. Eventually, after a tumultuous time hopping over the lava and risking your life multiples time in order to take a nap on Sherlock's luxuriously comfy bed, you made it. You made one last effort to jump onto the bed from the pillows on the floor, but you couldn't jump far enough and only your arms grazed the sides of it. You fell to the ground in a heap, all the while screaming "I'm melting! I'm melting!" Then you lay on the floor, well on the lava. You observed the world around you and noticed Sherlock's closet door open. Bingo. You scrambled to your feet and dashed towards your savior. Sherlock was not one to let you wear his clothes - ever. Pouring down rain outside?

"Should've brought a coat (y/n)." Spilled coffee on your new blouse?

"Should've brought an extra shirt. You should always bring an extra shirt (y/n)." Unexpectedly got in a water gun fight and didn't bring any dry clothes?

"Nothing of mine fits you."

"I'm fine wearing your baggy clothes Sherlock. Besides, that's what normal boyfriends do."

"Yes, but I'm not a normal boyfriend, you always make it a point to tell me that."

You prowled through his clothes, taking some out and holding them up, remembering the funny moments that came along with each shirt when he had worn it. Then you found it. The purple devil. It was your favorite shirt of Sherlock's, and no, not just because it made his muscles look like they were about to break through the silky material, you just really liked the purple color... You unbuttoned it and slipped it on over your simple v neck and buttoned it up, leaving two undone, just like he did. Then you dug some more and found his deep blue scarf, which he kept hidden from you, and somehow had forgotten to wear today, and his black trench coat, which he somehow also forgot to wear. You adorned each of these to yourself, and finally, you took a step back and looked in the mirror. Something's missing... Your eyes landed on the object, and you snatched it up from it's place on the dresser. You placed the hat on your head and looked at your complete creation. Yes, everything looked a tiny bit big on you, but you pretended not to notice, and instead, pretended to be Sherlock Holmes.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes. I live at 221B Baker St.," you stated in a deep mocking voice. "I have the best girlfriend in the world, her name is (y/n). Even though I won't admit it to her, I love her. And I love being right, because I'm sooo smart." You giggled to yourself, then got back into character. "Let me deduce you in a very rude manner then wonder why you don't like me. Then I'll help you solve your case, but only if there's a murder in it because I loooove murder, but not as much as I love (y/n)." You laughed again, louder this time. Pretending to be Sherlock was fun.

"Something funny?" said a deep voice behind you, similar to the one you were mocking seconds before. Your eyes widened and you turned around. Sherlock, John and, God forbid, even Mrs. Hudson, we're all standing in the doorway to Sherlock's bedroom staring at you. You froze in embarrassment, heat rising up to your cheeks. Amusement sparkled in Sherlock's eyes, and John stifled a laugh. You didn't know what to say.

"Uh, didn't know you guys would be back so early," you said sheepishly, eyes now glued to an interesting black dot on the wall.

"No no, please, don't let us stop you, continue what you were doing, I think you captured his character quite well," teased John.

"Oh please!" sputtered Sherlock. "Nobody does a better Sherlock Holmes, than Sherlock Holmes!" he argued, grabbing the hat off your head and putting it on his own, a competitive look on his face.

"You got that right," you surrendered, mockingly of course, as you tied the scarf around his neck and kissed him on the cheek (which he wiped off seconds later when you weren't looking).

A/N

Yay! Update! Life is good!

Life is always good when there's a Sherlock Imagines update.

Am I right or am I right?

I mean who does homework on Saturday nights? (Me because I tried to and only got half of it done)

Anywho

Hope y'all are having a good weekend. I believe it's still the weekend all around the world? Time zones always screw me up.

Thank you for continuously reading this, commenting, and voting. Makes my whole day when I see you guys doing that. Really. It's nice to know there are other crazed fans who can't handle the hiatus on their own and need to read Sherlock stories for support (because that's me).

I'm telling you, Sherpression is real.

And so are all of you guys for reading this story.

(That was so smooth, was it not?)

Okay night.

Me tired now.

Wait - random side note - Rupert Graves, despite being a couple (okay a lot more than a couple) years older than me, is seriously my husband (even though he already has a wife and 5 kids). Like he is just adorable.

Okay bye forreals.

enjoy(life)