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“What’s wrong?”
“Hm?” I glance over at the Detective sitting across the room. Even with his eyes closed (with his hands clasp under his chin in his signature ‘mind palace’ pose), I could almost feel him side-eyeing me. “nothings wrong.” I wave him off causally with those words.
“Nope.” he loudly pops the ‘P’, “you have been sighing every 13.8 seconds for the last ten minutes. Clearly something is bothering you. It’s so loud I can hear you in my dungeon.”
“Oh, your mind palace has a dungeon now?”
“Y/n-“
“-kinky.
“Please! All this ruckus is keeping me from focusing on the case!”
That made me let out a huff, “fine. I’ll leave you be so you can focus on your precious case,” I tried to sound teasing but it fell a little flat, “wouldn’t want to muck it all up with my feelings . Which are completely my own fault, right?” I ask, not really wanting an answer as go to leave, “since feelings are a weakness and all, and I choose to feel them!” Okay maybe something was bothering me. It might have had something to do with Sherlock barging into 221C and dragging me out at 2am for a bloody case! Or the fact that I ended up dropping the coffee Lestrad so kindly brought me, down the front of my shirt, or that I had to, once again, hear Sherlock give his ‘I have no friends’ speech with John, Molly, Lestrad and I behind him. If Mary was with us she would have said something clever. The lot of us just glanced at each other dumbfoundedly.
My bet was on the speech.
It was no secret that Sherlock Holmes was an ass. What most people didn’t know though was that with his keen skills of deduction he could actually be quite caring. Like when he could tell I hadn’t eaten anything besides a pear, and knew it was a crazy day at work, so he surprised me with a home-cooked meal. The bigger shocker was it was actually good! Or when he figured out I would blast Ray Charles ‘I can’t Stop Loving You’ when I was having a bad day, so he started to hum it when we were stuck out on a case for long periods of time.
So no, Sherlock Holmes was not ‘the man without a heart’, as he liked to let people believe he was.
Doesn’t mean he wasn’t an ass most of the time though.
“Y/n there’s no need for you to leave. Just tell me what it is so I may eradicate the problem.”
“It’s not that simple, Sherlock.”
“I would hope not. Simple is boring.”
“Sherlock...” I feel a headache coming on,
“It’s already so late, and you had me up before the ass crack of dawn! Let me go to sleep, ‘Kay?”
“So it’s because of this morning-“
“No-“
“-taking you along for a case so early in the morning, or is it late in the day-“
“could be that-“
“-or the fact that I grabbed your arm to move you along which caused you to drop your coffee-“
“Didn’t like that-“
“-on yourself.”
“Definitely didn’t like that.” Sherlock raises his brow as I give him a cheeky grin. There was a pause before we both quietly started to laugh.
It didn’t last long on my end as I remember the speech. Sherlocks demeanor quickly matches mine as he catches on.
He takes a step towards me, “Y/n... whatever it is you can trust that I will use whatever power I have to help you.”
“It’s nothing to warrant that kind of statement,” I try to joke.
“It does when it involves you.”
The conviction in his voice, paired with the almost burning stare causing me to take a sharp intake of breath. It somehow makes me relax, even though I hadn’t noticed I had tensed up. I let out a long sigh.
“Okay. Fine.” I sit back down in my spot on the sofa, “it’s what you said later on in the day, at the precinct when you were talking to the perp. Your no friend speech.”
“Ah.” Sherlock seemed to think for a moment, “what about it?”
“ what about it?? ” I let out a huff, not believing he actually just asked that. Could he actually be that dense? “it bothered me, Sherlock.”
“Obviously.”
I ignore him, “how could you say that? In front of all of us? I mean, how do you really feel about us? Are we not your friends? Haven’t we proven that we lo- that we care about you?”
His eyes soften, “Of course. Of course you have.”
“Then why would you still say that?”
“Because I don’t see you as my friends.”
I gave him what I would say was a very clearly frustrated wave of my arms to say please do go on.
It was Sherlock's turn to let out a heavy sigh, “I see John and Lestrad as more of brothers, since I have known them both long enough to have seen them, as well as I, I dare confess, go through loss and grieving. To have been there for each other no matter how much the other might have tried to fight them off. And the same goes for Molly, only of course, as a sister. A less psychopathic one than my actual sister.” He gives me a weary smile.
“and the same goes for me? A little sister?” Oddly enough that admission didn’t sit with me well. I would rather be looked upon as ‘just a friend’ then a ‘sister’. I tried not to scrunch my nose up at the thought.
“Oh good heavens no.” He smiles but it quickly fades for he surely can see the hurt plainly on my face. There was no hiding it, I knew it. To be absolutely nothing to Sherlock Holmes when he himself meant the world to you, was more than just a tragedy.
It was world shattering.
“... how could I be so stupid.” I say softly, glancing out the window of Baker Street.
“N-no, you miss understood!” The panic in his voice brings my eyes back to him, “it’s true that I don’t see you as a sister. I see you as something more.” I hold my breath as he lets out a quick breath of his own and continues, “ you know feelings have never really been my area of expertise, I normally leave the romantic nonsense to John’s blog,” I smile at that, “but with you, I can’t help myself. I must confess I have those feelings.” I stare blankly at him, “The romantic kind. With you. T-towards you-“
Sherlock is clearly frustrated with himself for stumbling with his words but I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. The sound of my laugh resonating off 221B’s walls sobers him right up.
I move to stand in front of Sherlock and pick at a phantom string on his nightshirt, “Mr. Holmes. Are you telling me I’m you’re goldfish?”
He gently places his hands on my shoulders, “well, Miss L/n. I do believe I am.”
And with that the past few hours are forgotten as I blissfully drown in Sherlock’s warm embrace.
The end.