Selfless | Sherlock

Tea and Waffles

Once I was sure that the detective was sound asleep, I carefully shifted his head onto the pillow with a light blush tinting my features before silently exiting the room with the two teacups. The quiet shut of the door allowed me to release a sigh of relief as I entered the living room where John sat on his chair.

"He hasn't slept since you've been asleep. He had me check up on you every few hours even though you were miraculously perfectly fine," he said, setting his newspaper down on the table and standing up before pulling me into a hug.

When we pulled away I set the cups down in the kitchen sink and sat on the chair opposite of John's, staring at him quietly to brace myself for the question that would surely come.

"Who was that man? Cas, you called him Cas. How did he just magically heal you?" he questioned, leaning towards me expectantly.

"Well uh. You're not going to believe me so you may want to pass that entire situation off as a bad dream," I said hopefully.

"Tried that. Unfortunately didn't work. Surprisingly she didn't remember a thing though, maybe that Cas fellow did something to her memories."

"She? Your girlfriend?" I asked.

"Not anymore," he sighed.

I nodded sympathetically and took a deep breath before telling him about the Supernatural.

"Well monsters are real," I began, "and so are most supernatural things. For example: witches, skinchangers, vampires, werewolves, demons, angels, and the list goes on. Long story short, my friend Castiel happens to be an angel. You could look him up if you'd like, Castiel: Angel of Thursday. I used to be hunter with my friends Sam and Dean but after an incident with Lucifer I moved here where the British Men of Letters keep a close watch on anything supernatural and destroy it. Unfortunately that means that he probably has left a few marks on their radar and will be unable to return for a while without being hunted."

After the long explanation, I took a deep breath and leaned back as John simply stared with his mouth slightly ajar.

"Close that unless you are keen on consuming flies," Sherlock's voice rang from the now open door frame where he had been listening to my explanation.

"At least I don't have to explain it twice, although you already knew part of it," I sighed, standing from his chair to search the fridge.

When I opened it, dead eyes stared back at me. I rolled my eyes and groaned before slowly shutting it.

"You've got to be shitting me. You have a head in there but no waffles?" I groaned, turning around to face Sherlock who shrugged sheepishly.

John still sat in disbelief so I quickly ran next door to grab some food and Sherlock was right on my heels. When I stopped abruptly, the man bumped into me and nearly sent me tumbling into the door.

"Sherlock," I whined, throwing open my door and rushing to the pantry for waffle mix.

Once that was in hand, I snatched up my waffle maker and strolled back out to the living room where Sherlock was staring disdainfully at Echo as she attempted to impress him by chasing her tail around in circles.

"Aw, so cute," I teased as he finally gave in and leaned down to scratch behind her fluffy ears.

"I have to take her out for a run later," I realized, leaning against the wall for support as the detective stood up straight once more.

"I should come," he said monotonously, although his expression seemed almost nervous.

I tilted my head to the side curiously but a small twinge of pride would not allow me to question him. Instead I thought of Moriarty and the possible danger he posed before I chose to pin the reason as that: safety. After all, I could not get in the way of a case. After the realization was made, I nodded curtly and patted Echo before heading next door. I heard Sherlock lock the door to my flat behind me as I entered 221B.

"Waffles," I explained to a still-dazed John who seemed to be approaching the inevitable state of denial from his chair.

After entering the kitchen, I found the nearest outlet and started up the waffle machine in silence as Sherlock entered behind me, still looking quite tired. The silence plagued the flat as I put the mix in a bowl with the necessary liquid ingredients.

"You need more sleep," I sighed, pouring in the mix and closing the waffle maker before turning to face him.

"I don't sleep more than a few hours a night."

"Then start," I smiled, wrapping my arms around his lithe waist.

The man still tensed beneath my touch, but only took a second to relax as I rested my chin on his chest to stare up at his confused expression.

"I like my detectives alive and healthy. Besides, how are you going to save us the next time John and I get ourselves into a stupid situation if you're half asleep?"

"You won't experience more dangerous situations."

His sincere and confident tone caused me to burst out laughing as I turned back to the machine and slid the two waffles onto a plate before refilling the waffle maker with more batter. Through my hysterics I was barely able to butter and pour syrup over the waffles.

"Funny, but I happen to be a magnet for danger," I giggled, handing him the plate to give to John.

The man grumbled in slight defiance, for once seemingly lost for words before he went to hand John his plate. It was only after finishing Sherlock's breakfast that I was able to dry my watering mouth with large chunks of waffle. Instead of eating at the table I inhaled bits of my waffle from the kitchen as Sherlock and John sat like civilized people.

"Thank you for breakfast," Sherlock said, walking past me to set his plate in the sink before reaching mine and doing the same.

"You're welcome. I should head home," I sighed, heading for the door with waffle maker in hand.

"Wait-" Sherlock started, making me stop in my tracks.

The air around us seemed to grow thick with tension as he silently contemplated his next words.

"It would be safer if you stayed here for a few days."

I glanced at John for approval and he nodded in agreement. 'Surely being closer to the man many people want dead is not safer, however; I worry for these two and I know it would be impossible to protect them from my flat,' I thought to myself.

"I mean I'm the one with the weapon stash, and what about Echo" I trailed off, glancing around uncertainly as soon as the words left my lips.

"You could bring whatever you need, including the dog," Sherlock added, staring at me intently as I shifted uncomfortably.

"Alright," I gave in, knowing I may have just signed my death warrant.