Sentiment {Sherlock BBC}

29. "Sir Boast-a-lot"

           

We all stood in an office with Lestrade and Sally. Sherlock had me wrapped in his arms as John began the conversation.

"Makes no sense." John said. 

"The kid's traumatized. Something about Sherlock reminds her of the kidnapper." Lestrade said. 

"So what's she said?" John asked as Sherlock pulled his fingers through my hair, occasionally kissing my forehead. 

"She hasn't uttered another syllable." Sally sighed.

"And the boy?" John asked. 

"No, he's unconscious; still in intensive care." Lestrade said. I peeked up at Sherlock and noticed him looking out the window at a building opposite us. He looked down at me and kissed my lips.

"Well, don't let it get to you. I always feel like screaming when you walk into a room! In fact, so do most people." Lestrade said to Sherlock who hasn't said a word. Lestrade motioned to Sally and John, "Come on."

They all went to leave, but Sally stayed behind for a second.

"Brilliant work you did, finding those kids from just a footprint. It's really amazing." She said with speculation in her voice. 

"Thank you." Sherlock said to her.

"Unbelievable." She added eyeing him.

"Do you have a problem?" I finally snapped and Sherlock grabbed my arm.

"No, none at all." She said still eyeing Sherlock.

"I think you do, and I'd appreciate it if you'd drop your little attitude," I glared, gritting my teeth.

"Liz, c'mon." Sherlock said taking my arm. John caught us outside as Sherlock hailed a cab.

"You okay?" John asked. 

"Thinking." Sherlock said as John went to get in the cab with us. 

"This is my cab. You get the next one." Sherlock said.

"Why?" John asked confused. 

"You might get uncomfortable." Sherlock replied closing the door. The cab began to move when I turned to Sherlock.

"Uncomfor-," he cut me off with a pressured kiss. His hands on either side of my face. I held his face as well as his hands moved down to my waist. He pulled me on top of him so I saddled his lap.

"Excuse me, could you please stay buckled-," Sherlock threw something toward the front of the cab and the driver didn't say another word after that. Sherlock was bucking his hips and I couldn't help but grind along with him, until the screen came on

"Can you turn this off, please?" Sherlock stopped kissing me to ask the driver. The driver didn't respond as it began to get fuzzy and Jim Moriarty came up on the screen. My eyes widened as Sherlock gripped my waist.

"Hullo. Are you ready for the story? This is the story of Sir Boast-a-lot." He began. I looked at Sherlock and he shook his head, looking at the screen angrily. "Sir Boast-a-lot was the bravest and cleverest knight at the Round Table, but soon the other knights began to grow tired of his stories about how brave he was and how many dragons he'd slain. And soon they began to wonder... 'Are Sir Boast-a-lot's stories even true?'" Jim said. Jim sadly shakes his head. "Oh, no. So one of the knights went to King Arthur and said... 'I don't believe Sir Boast-a-lot's stories. He's just a big old liar who makes things up to make himself look good.'And then even the King began to wonder... But that wasn't the end of Sir Boast-a-lot's problem. No. That wasn't the final problem. The End." The screen turned off and Sherlock moved me off of him.