Sherlock X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

There's A Spider In The Loo (Part 2)

Sherlock timidly followed Y/N to the loo after she had retrieved a glass from the cupboard and a piece of paper from the table. It had writing on it, Sherlock's looping, slightly-sideways-slanting hand, but she doubted that was important. If it was, he didn't protest. It seemed to be the least of his worries as she made her way into the bathroom.

"Where was it?" Y/N is a little bit scared of spiders---she'd be willing to bet that everyone is, in all honesty---but the fact that Sherlock is more scared of them seemed to have somehow pitched her into another sphere of confidence.

Said man was currently occupying one side of the door frame, sort of clinging to the jamb with one hand like the fearless hero he is. "It was in the shower." He glanced around, the fact that it had moved setting his plentiful, already-frayed nerves on edge. "...But now it's not."

Sarcastically: "Yes, thank you, detective, I can see that."

"Do you think it escaped?"

Y/N cackled a little laugh. "Did you try to contain it by shutting the door?"

Mr Holmes is a man of immense mental aptitude, courage, and resilience. That is why the image of him using a shower door as a barrier between a small, harmless, slightly fluffy creature and himself is, frankly, hilarious.

If Y/N had turned around now she would have noticed his cheeks redden. "No, I noticed the shower door was open, so I shut it. The fact that a shower could also double as a spider containment unit is merely happenstance."

Deadpan: "You're pathetic."

Sherlock glared at her. "Just get it out. While you look for it, I'm going to use Mrs Hudson's loo."

If she hadn't seen his quite obvious discomfort, Y/N would have assumed that was an excuse to run for the hills.

🕷🕷🕷

When Sherlock returned several minutes later, Y/N still had nothing to show for her efforts. He found her cautiously lifting shampoo bottles one by one and inspecting them. She'd been bracing herself for the inevitable shock of spinning Sherlock's Nivea Men's body wash around to find an eight-legged critter staring back at her with it's dark, multitudinous eyes, and the tension was getting to her. She really didn't want to show Sherlock that she was ever so slightly dreading that moment, so took a deep breath and placed the last of the bottles back on the lip of the bath.

"Was it a big spider?" She asked, trying to sound interested more than anything else.

"Massive," was the reply, but Y/N decided that Sherlock, in his current state, probably wasn't a reliable source. He'd been in and out of there so fast he probably couldn't even be sure it was a spider; it probably just appeared as a black blur.

"How big is 'massive'?"

Sherlock thought for a second. He still wasn't daring to venture beyond the doorway, even keeping his sock-covered feet well away from the part of the floor where wood ended and linoleum began; as if the entire bathroom was infected with a deadly disease. "About eight centimetres. All the way across, I mean, like if its legs were all flat."

Y/N put her hands on her hips and said conclusively: "Well it probably can't have gotten into any of the cupboards, then. She's probably female; female spiders are typically larger."

"I don't care about its sex," Sherlock laughed, but it sounded brittle. "I just want it out. Have you checked behind the---"

"I've checked everywhere, calm down, she can't have gone far." A look of clarity lit Y/N's eyes.