•Goodnight•

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She arrived home early, as usual, sitting cross legged on the couch waiting patiently with a thick book in her hands. She tried to read it but all she managed to do was reread a sentence over and over as her thoughts raced. She set the book down with a small frown and placed her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She felt bored and lonely. She got up and grabbed the pistol inside the drawer of the dresser in her room and walked back to the living room, sitting on the couch again, staring right at a yellow spray-painted smiled face on the wall. She shot it once. She shot it twice. Still bored. And still lonely. She shot once. She shot twice. Out of bullets. And still bored. She groaned in frustration as she walked back to the room lazily and threw her pistol inside her dresser where it was. She showered and changed into her fuzzy pjama pants, fuzzy socks and an over-sized T-shirt that was certainly not hers. She sat on the couch again, cross legged as always. She glanced at the clock and impatiently sighed. She sat upside down on the sofa, her head on the cushion and her back arched over the sofa.

"John, John, John." She said over and over again with her eyes closed and fingers intertwined under her chin. Suddenly the familiar noise of fumbling with keys on the door made the corner of her lips tilt up. She stayed still, surprisingly comfortable in her awkward position.

"Honey, I'm home!" She heard a fake female voice say, followed by footsteps a soft chuckle.

"Sweetie, what are you doing?" He said in his normal voice and stepped in front of her.

"I got bored." She attempted to shrug only to slide down a little. She waved her arms at him and finally opened her eyes. "Help me up please?" He picked her up and placed her on the couch again, planting a kiss on her lips with a huge smile. She noticed the tiredness in his eyes and decided to encourage him to shower or at least change into comfortable clothes that weren't his work clothes. He agreed but not before he kissed her forehead and her nose. She kissed his cheek and his nose and told him to shower, which he reluctantly agreed to. While he was in the shower, she was getting the bed ready, getting blankets and more pillows for him.

He entered into their bedroom tiredly and laid down next to her, scooting closer to her. Happily, she adjusted herself so her head was on his shoulder and her hands were around his neck. She reached to his hair with one hand, something she got accustomed to and so did he. He smiled and leaned into her touch, sighing contently.

"John?" She whispered.

"Yes?" His words were slightly slurred as he was slowly being lulled to sleep by the gentle caress on his hair.

"Your hair is soft." She said, like every other time she touches his hair. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her.

"I know." He said before he fell asleep with his Sherlock in his arms.

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