Sherlock X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

There's A Spider In The Loo ((Final) Part 3)

"Wait, where's it go?" He asked, hurriedly scanning his vicinity, then his clothes. He didn't know how it would have travelled from the cup to the table, then to his attire so fast, but he wasn't willing to take any chances. And delight he'd previously experienced from engaging in playful banter with his rather attractive flatmate had instantly evaporated and been replaced by a relentless, instinctual need to stand on a chair.

A look of momentary confusion crossed Y/N's face, then, as her mind connected the dots, she turned her gaze down to the glass in her hand. While she'd been distracted by---whatever they had been doing, her hand seemed to have wandered an inch to the left, taking with it the sheet of paper. A gap had appeared between the rim of the cup and the paper and...well---

"Clever, isn't she?" Y/N chuckled fondly, although the idea of a spider whose location was unknown unsettled her slightly. She almost mirrored Sherlock's anxious searching of his own body for the critter, but then she saw a dark shape disappear over the top of one of the cupboards. One of the high-up ones mounted to the walls that they use to hold the plates and bowls.

"She's not clever, she's trespassing in my flat," Sherlock muttered, wondering if he'd be safer to move to another part of the apartment, or if that's exactly where the spider would also go to get away from its pursuers. What he knew for sure, though, was that he craved some kind of comfort, so edged sheepishly around the dining table until he bumped into Y/N's side.

"Hello?" she questioned but got no reply.

Sherlock was still raking the room with his eyes like a rabbit who knew he'd heard a fox but didn't exactly know where it was.

"It went on top of that cupboard," she said matter of factly, wondering how she'd entrap it now. Even if she stood on a chair, her arm wouldn't be long enough---

"You should have got rid of it when I told you to!" Sherlock scolded usefully.

"Well it's a bit late for that now, isn't it? I guess it just lives here now. Should we charge it rent?"

The noise Sherlock made at that was kind of like how a deer would sound if you trapped one of its spindly, delicate legs in a car door; if you can imagine that sort of thing. "What?! No! It's not staying, I won't be able to sleep at night." He'd wilted, the threat of the spider becoming a permanent resident scaring him so much dignity was no longer something he cared about.

Y/N wanted to call him pathetic again, but the sharp word dissolved on her tongue. It would be too heartless, too much of a dick move to poke fun at someone when they were relying on your protection. How could she mock Sherlock when he was subconsciously pressing one side of his body up against hers in search of reassurance?

Awkwardly, because she'd never really needed to comfort Sherlock before, Y/N gave his stomach a little pat. The small of his back had been her first choice but she feared the unexpected contact would make him jump so violently he'd hit his head on the ceiling. It didn't seem to matter. A little colour had returned to his face anyway. "I was joking," she said, "We'll get it out. I don't know how, though, I can't reach that far back."

"It might have moved a bit further forwards?" Sherlock tried hopefully.

"Somehow, I doubt it, but I'll check." Y/N left the surprisingly pleasant solid warmth of Sherlock's side and dragged a chair over to the counter. The legs made a scraping sound on the wooden, uneven boards of the floor and Sherlock watched as Y/N climbed on top of it and pushed herself up on tiptoes. Even with that slight added height, her eyeline barley met the top of the cupboard. Their cupboards weren't just boxes, either, they had a sort of skirting around their top to hide all the dust that collects there, an extra few centimetres blocking not only Y/N's view of possible spiders, but any chances of capturing them as well.