Work Text:
Sherlock looked up from his microscope to change the slide. A flash of lightning illuminated the darkened afternoon outside, and thunder rolled over the city.
He glanced toward the window. And caught sight of something that hadn’t been in his flat a few minutes ago. Or rather, someone .
Petra was curled on the far end of the couch, the blanket that was usually draped over John’s chair covering her legs and feet. A book, likely the same one she’d been reading for months now, was in her lap, and her attention was fixed on it.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes and he sat back in the chair. “How long have you been there?”
Petra looked up from her book. “About half an hour.” Concern crossed her face. “I didn’t disturb you, did I?”
“No; I just didn’t hear you come in.” But he didn’t mind. He liked her company. And judging by her curled body beneath the blanket, she was in want of his. “Is everything all right?”
Petra nodded. “Yes. Just in search of drier climes; the storm’s made my flat quite damp.”
That explained the blanket. He knew something else that would warm her up, too.
He stood up. “Tea?”
“Ooh, yes please; thank you.”
He didn’t have to be told twice.
“So, what’s piqued your interest today, Sherlock?”
“Blood.”