Sherlock preferences

Writingmas - Day 18

Sherlock oneshot - jealousy...

As you strolled, hand in hand with Sherlock, down the chilly London streets, you grinned at your own breath, watching it dissipate and disperse into the brisk air surrounding you. A sudden gust of icy wind barrelled towards you, lifting your skirt slightly and sending a jet of cold air shooting across your stomach and down your exposed neck.
"I told you to wear a scarf" Sherlock mocked, sarcastically as you shivered. As he watched you, it pulled slightly on his heart and with a sigh, he slung his own scarf around your cold neck.
"Thank you." You grinned deeply, your body slowly being engulfed by the secondary heat radiating from the material. You squeezed his hand slightly, pulling yourself closer to him do that you now walked shoulder to shoulder like a paper chain. Just as the weather took a turn for the worse and sleet began to seep from the edges of the silvery clouds above, Sherlock urged you to take a sharp left and he ushered you into the molten warmth of a coffee shop. It was a dainty little place you hadn't noticed before. The name was 'The Steaming Mug' and its wooden interior was the antithesis of the harsh concrete outside. You seated yourselves by the window so you could watch the slush pound against the glass while still being in the comfort of the oak furniture, walls and floor of the cafe. Sherlock stared at the rain for a few seconds before mumbling to himself:
"Water, water everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water everywhere, Not any drop to drink..."
You looked at him with amazement.
"What?" You asked him
"Oh, nothing, I often mumble poetry to myself when I'm bored... It's from 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner' by Coleridge... He was addicted to opium you know"
"Yes..." You whispered.
You chuckled slightly. You always marvelled at the intelligence of your boyfriend. He seemed to know everything you didn't. Although... There was a hell of a lot of stuff he didn't know. That was why he needed you...

A few moments had passed when a cheery looking man approached your table. He had a white apron tied about his waist and his short, clean haircut showed that he clearly took care of himself.
"Hi! I'm Michael" he announced bouncily "do you know what you would like sir?" He pointed his pen towards the menu Sherlock was holding and smiled grotesquely
"Coffee please. Black. Two sugars."
He nodded and scrawled the order down on his notepad. He then turned to you. This is where everything went south pretty quickly...
"And how about you my lovely lady? Something sweet? A gingerbread latte perhaps?" He swivelled his hips slightly and bit his lip after he spoke. Your eyes widened slightly, not exactly sure what had just happened.
"Um, yes actually, how did you know?"
He smiled and leant against your chair as Sherlock looked on, with repulsion, at the situation.
"Oh, you know, I can't really explain it... I just have a gift for reading people."
Sherlock snorted loudly, finding his comment extremely arrogant and funny at the same time.
"What's so funny mister?" Michael asked, getting ever so slightly annoyed.
"Oh, it's just, I have the same gift! Only, I don't use it to chat up unavailable women..."
You gritted your teeth, worrying. You were in the firing line now... You had to deal with the fallout.
"Oh yeah?" Michael sneered

"Yes"

"Prove it"

"No don't!" You pleaded with both of them, but Sherlock had already started to talk.

"The way you've done your hair and dress yourself says just out of a short term relationship, I've seen the other waiters in here, it's clearly not a uniform... You are obviously looking for a new partner because of how smart you dress and your relationship can't have lasted long or you would be scruffier looking, from lack of sleep and other such things. Your uneven spray tan is visible between your fingers and you've left a white band where your watch should be. Why? Well, to give dumb bimbos the impression that you're rich and holiday frequently even though your last holiday was in Scotland three months ago with your step mother. Yes step mother, your parents are clearly divorced... Need I say more?"

Michael froze. He dropped his pen and it fell with a small clatter to the table. He began to breathe more shallowly as his face reddened exponentially. Sherlock grinned smugly  as Michael ran into the bathroom (by himself) crying.
"Sherlock..." You sighed, "was there really any need for that?"

"He needed teaching a thing or two... I didn't like the way he was talking to you... You're my girlfriend and he... I just..."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait... Hold up just one damn minute... Are you JEALOUS Mr Holmes?" Your mouth was gaped wide and your eyebrows were raised with obvious judgement.
"I am not jealous!" Sherlock scoffed in retorsion. The absolute repulsion in which the word 'jealous' rolled off his tongue could not have been more explicit if he tried. It was like a child spitting out a sweet they didn't like.
You shuffled closer to him and placed an arm round his waist.
"Sherlock... You know I wasn't even remotely interested in him right? I mean, he is REALLY not my type. He was short, tanned and muscular! I like tall, pale and lanky!" You grinned as you clutched into his body warmly.
"You really mean that?..."

"Of course I do you spoon!"

"Well, thank you..."

"Just believe me when I say these things to you sherly... You are an amazing man mentally and physically. You really need to see that more often..."

"Thank you (y/n)" he leaned towards you and kissed your soft lips, holding the sweet contact for a few seconds and embracing you discreetly under the light of the cafe. As you parted, you saw that the sleet had stopped and some golden sunlight was oozing its way out from behind the clouds.
"Shall we depart?" Sherlock suggested,
"We shall..."
As you stepped back into the frost, your felt the ice crack beneath your feet. You laughed breathily and whispered almost silently:
"The ice was here, the ice was there, the ice was all around: It cracked and growled and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound..."
You didn't expect Sherlock to hear but somehow, he did, and he lifted you up into is arms with glee
"You know the poem? I didn't know that! Why didn't you say something before?"
"I let you revel in your own intelligence... And there's a lot of things you don't know about me Mr Holmes..."

----------------------------------------------
A/n- fuck a duck! That was longer than I intended it to be....