A few weeks have passed since the incident with Moriarty. In those weeks, Sherlock and I have done plenty of research and hypotheses on this man. The results were as dry as the Sahara.
John and I, of course, have been as happy as children with each other. I wake up every morning with a grin; I truly am a lucky girl with a brilliant older brother.
Daniel Dimmock and I haven't talked since the night Sherlock and I kissed.
Oh god, that night...
I still find myself swirling with emotions every time I see Sherlock. On one hand, he's my brothers best friend. I barely know the man, yet I feel I've known him for ages. My stomach twists when I think about how our lips danced together, the warmth of his body pulsing mine with electricity.
Nonetheless, I tell my brother everything; but this is something I seriously can never tell him about. Frankly, my plan is to ignore these feelings until they numb.
If that's even possible.
We've gotten plenty of cases that have come in to the flat. Some of them heart-breakers, some of them kind of hilarious.
A few have intrigued all of us, now that I'm a "part" of the team...but not very few.
So that about sums up the weeks in 221B Baker Street. Currently, I'm scrolling through social media in Sherlock's bed.
No, he's not in it with me.
I wonder why I knew you'd ask.
I get up from the sleep-coma I was in, smoothing out my red college sweatshirt and short frilly pajama shorts. I make my way to the bathroom and do my usual morning routine. It wasn't soon before I greeted the boys in the living room, who were up hours earlier than I usually am.
John and Sherlock were conferring about the blog and John's computer password, but I ignored it and went over to give John a quick hug.
"'Morning Johnny." I smile, as he grins back giving me a hug.
"'Morning, Snow." John uses our parents old nickname for me, making me smile warmly.
"Morning, Curly-Sue." I playfully tease Sherlock, ruffling his dark curls as I walk past him. He doesn't look up from his laptop, but just readjusts his hair promptly.
"Bloody, hell...I need a job." John mutters, filing through their mail and bills.
"Me too." I sigh, fixing a quick cuppa.
"Ugh, dull!" Sherlock shoos his hand in the air.
"Maybe! But it's quite necessary if we want to eat anything other than freezer food." John throws the mail on the side table.
"I saw there's a hiring for a waitress and barista at Speedy's. I might go check that out." I sip my tea, plopping down at the couch.
"That's a great idea, Y/N," John says directly to Sherlock, "I'm glad a few of us have our heads screwed in right." He grits his teeth.
Sherlock merely rolls his eyes as scoffs. He gets up, pulling out his phone and typing furiously. I look him up and down quickly, trying to shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach. Every time I look at him, I feel as if I'm floating. Every inch of him makes me-
"Y/N?" John startles me out of my daze.
"Yea-sorry! I was thinking about the...job thingy." I play it off, trying not to break.
"I was just saying, we could head over there in a few. I think Sherlock has a case he's been thinking ab-"
"No time for job applications, dear Watsons." Sherlock strides into the living room. "We have a case." He smiles, his eyes narrowing with excitement.
YOU ARE READING
Expect The Unexpected {s.h x reader}
Fanfiction"Well, Y/N Watson, Expect the unexpected." You were supposed to visit your brother, John, for only a couple of weeks. His curious flat mate hadn't expected such an annoying, clever, and dashing young lady to be staying. My apologies though, it seems...
