Sherlock preferences

Attempting an escape room - part 2

Sherlock-
The room you were locked in was small. Claustrophobically small. The room was basically just a kitchen and a small living-room in which stood a few floor lamps, sofas, paintings and various other homely adornments. The walls were painted an unappealing ashy colour emphasised harshly by the industrial style white light bulb which flickered vivaciously above your head. Even the ceiling felt close. If he were to try, you were sure that Sherlock could raise up an arm straight and comfortably place his hand flat against the cold plaster and paintwork. The kitchen walls were plastered with posters about healthy eating and bmi which made you wince slightly.
You were on the last puzzle now. You had removed a painting by the door, behind which was a keypad with cream coloured shiny keys and black numbers on them; zero to nine. A red light flickered at the top.
"Okay." Sherlock rubbed his hands together, creating a hollow sound like high grade sandpaper on damp wood. He tapped his heel against the floor a few times before turning to you.
"(Y/n). This ones for you. I think you should have a go at deduction... See if you can get the combination..."
You looked up at him like he had just proposed that you jump off a cliff. You bit your lip shyly and shook your head. When he insisted once again, you intervened vocally...
"Sherlock, look, I am not some kind of insane genius like you are. Please, I love you, but don't make me do this... I don't want to embarrass myself..."
Sherlock brought his arms round under yours, meeting his hands together on your back and gently massaging the bumps of your spine with his strong thumbs. He leant forwards and placed an elegant kiss in the middle of your forehead before pursuing his idea once more:
"(Y/n)... You've been my girlfriend for three years now. I think you know enough to work this out. Just try, please? For me..." His eyes widened like a puppy begging to be hoisted into a pair of warm arms. You stared through his pupils and got lost in a galaxy for a moment before caving:
"Fine!..." Your response was somewhat reluctant but was greeted with another kiss nonetheless.
"Ok..." You sighed, clicking your tongue against the top of your mouth and fluttering your fingers by your side as you contemplated the keypad. With a last, sharp intake of breath, you began your shaky deduction...

"I can clearly see that four of the numbers are slightly erased, definitely from frequent use. 1356... As this is a standard keypad, I am only to assume that those are the only four numbers used and none are repeated. Ok... Definitely not a date. It cannot be their birth year and there are no books in here to suggest that they are a lover of history so it's something else. Perhaps more personal? Could be the first four digits of a phone number? Easy to remember, simple. No... No not a phone number... It's too obvious... Perhaps it's not all one number?... Perhaps it's two and two?
Wait.
Shut up.
GOD I a most have it!
Look around you! Look! Flyers, leaflets, posters! All promoting a healthy lifestyle! It's a health guru! Ok ok ok... Oh! Look at the spelling! That poster says 'realize your potential!' Not realise! This person is American! Due to social pressures, probably a woman too. In the cupboards, all the mugs are on the bottom shelf. Why? She is short that's why. Id say about 5 foot 3. That sorts the first two numbers... Now  the 6 and the 1? Due to the large amount of health paraphernalia, probably a weight, and because she is American it is likely to be in kg not stone. The average female weight in America is around 160 pounds and because she is a health nut, I guess she is much less than that... Of course! 61! Of course! 61kg is 134 pounds! Okay, now we're getting somewhere... Is it 5361 or 6153?... Tricky one that but on a bmi chart, height is almost always on the left so I'm guessing it's more likely 5361"

You placed your hands on your head, panting. You had barely let yourself breathe since you began to talk. It just poured out of your brain like an observational waterfall...
"Oh my..." Sherlock muttered silently, stifling back a grin which threatened to infect his whole face. You lifted a shaky hand and entered the pin, placing an odd pressure on each key, signalling their ultimate importance.

*Ping*

The light turned green.

Your eyes widened exponentially as you felt the handle turn beneath your palm.

Sherlock, realising his childish enthusiasm, toned back his reaction a little, murmuring only
"Well... Not quite as good as me but, still, amazing..."
The cocky detective grinned suavely as his nose wrinkled up, creating a line vertically through between his eyebrows signalling his pride.
"After you" you smiled, gesturing for Sherlock to step through the now open door and finally escape.
"Please, brains before beauty dear..."
You laughed with a confused manner about your voice and squinted slightly,
"I don't know if that was an insult or a compliment, but I'll take it!" You giggled happily as you stepped past him and felt a sigh of relief escape your relaxing lungs.

Jim-
Moriarty had not told you -for if he had, you would have run a mile- that your activity for the day would be a horror themed escape room. As a tall, eighteen year old boy ushered you into the blackness, you felt your chest clench slightly and it tightened even further as he slammed the door behind you, leaving your boyfriend and yourself standing in almost blackness. If it weren't for a faint red light above you and the silver beam that shot unsympathetically through the keyhole, you would have been incapable of seeing anything at all...
You stretched out your hand in the darkness, feeling for the wall.
"Can you see anything?" Jim murmured as you cautiously stepped forward.
"No..." You whispered back, your voice quivering slightly.
As your eyes became accustomed to the abyss, you managed to make out shapes through the ink. Suddenly, a figure lunged at you from the shadows and grabbed your wrist. You let out a scream that would have woken the dead.
"Fuck Jim!!! You never said this was a FUCKING HORROR!!"
You pulled your arm away and stumbled backwards in a daze, pressing yourself against Jim's chest for protection. You didn't think that you were the type to scare easily. Considering your job and all... You were fine with blood, dismembered corpses, wounds and death. But jump scares? Nope. Jump scares could fuck right off...
"Jim, I know we've only been here a few minutes but I really do not like it. I want to leave... Like NOW!!"
You looked up, managing to make out your boyfriend eyes through the gloom. They were large and glassy, flushed with a kind of sympathetic enamel.
"Look, (y/n), I'm so sorry. I thought you could handle it."
His pink lips puckered empathetically as he pronounced the 'so' and his eyes gleamed with a silvery crescent of light which squeezed through the keyhole. Even in the half-darkness, his face was still it's usual milky white colour which would never dare to blush.
"Look, I'll get us out of here kitten..." He purred as he placed his hands firmly on your waist and drew your hips closer to his. He began to lean in for a kiss when the moment was shattered by a cold hand being placed upon your back, a flat palm between your jutting shoulder blades.
"NOPE! FUCK THIS SHIT!!!"
You screeched as you practically threw your boyfriend to one side and administered a swift kick to the lock of the door, sending it flying open in a mixture of anger and complete, gripping fear. Jim just stood there, slightly shaken, with his eyes gaped wide with a kind of startled appreciation.
"Well..." He muttered "I was going to get my spare key but... Yep, that works too."
You looked up at him, a sense of pride filling you up from the feet and making your adrenaline subside to an acceptable level. Jim grinned at you, exposing his inner psycho for a brief second as he scooped you up into his arms, growling. You dug your face into the nape of his neck as he hummed 'God save the queen'. The warmth of his vibrating vocal chords engulfed you and his Adam's apple shifted up and down melodically. You nuzzled slightly further as he walked, still cradling you like an undiffused bomb as you kissed his neck, shivering as your lips grazed upon the slightest crop of stubble which had emerged due to lack of care.
"I suppose I'll need to think of something else to do next weekend shall I?..." Jim cooed as you reached your car. "A nice murder perhaps? I know how much you adore the colour red... It compliments your eyes wondrously"
You sighed contently as your feet met the hard concrete
"Oh Jim... You always know what to say..."