Fandoms of the Past (Random One-shots)

Memory (Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader)

Witnesses weren't always reliable. Especially when those witnesses were also victims. Sherlock knew this. But he also knew that you were the only living person who could give him answers. Too bad you couldn't seem to remember anything other than your name and basic information. NOTHING! It frustrated Sherlock to no end. So, when John first suggested he take you to hospital, Sherlock denied it outright.

"No. There is no point. She'll stay with us. That way I can speak with her the moment her memory returns. You and Molly can look after her in the medical sense while we wait." John wanted to argue, but knew better. That was how you found yourself in the back of a cab, squeezed between the two gentlemen.

You were quiet as you tried to piece together what had happened that night. The only thing you could remember was that, thanks to a little bit of luck, you'd managed to narrowly escape a violent end. You weren't even sure you wanted to or if you even could remember what happened, especially with those intense blue eyes of the consulting detective studying your every move. At least you'd have a place to stay that wasn't a hospital until you could remember where you lived.

Days passed and you still didn't remember everything. Bits and pieces here and there, but not enough for Sherlock to put all the pieces together. You knew something. Something that could break the case wide open. He just needed you to remember. Meanwhile, you seemed to enjoy being in the flat. You were clearly a social creature in certain situations and you liked someone's company. Sherlock thought it was John's or Molly's(who came by every day to check on you), or even Mrs. Hudson's.

"For such a genius, you can be a right idiot, you know that?" John asked him one evening after you'd gone to bed. Sherlock didn't even look at him. "So you keep reminding me, Watson. To what instance are you referring to this time?" John sighed and took a sip of his tea. "Y/N. She likes you. And I'm certain you like her as well."

"Don't be ridiculous. You know how I feel about...normal people." Sherlock didn't have to look to know that John rolled his eyes at that. "Sherlock, I know you better than that now. She's beautiful and intelligent. You can tell that by spending five minutes with her. She's put you in your place more than once. I think she'd be good for you, if you gave it a chance."

Sherlock pretended not to hear him. Now wasn't the time for his silly romantic tendencies. Still, he did have a point. Despite your lack of memory at the moment, you truly were an intelligent woman. Not on Sherlock's level, of course, but still, you seemed to keep your mind open to learning and Sherlock could appreciate that. As he sat with his fingers together under his chin, an idea formed in his mind. If you were as smart as he thought, maybe he could get through to you and help you recover your memory.

"This wasn't exactly what I meant by taking her on a date, Sherlock," John whispered to him the next evening. They were both looking at you, sitting on the floor with your legs crossed, waiting for Sherlock to continue his lesson. You were wearing one of Sherlock's shirts since you had no clothing of your own except what you had been wearing the night of the incident and those were currently being washed. "Nonsense. You know I don't allow personal relationships interfere with a case, but you insisted I spend time with Y/N. What better way to do both?"

John scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He shouldn't have been surprised. This was Sherlock after all and the case came first. In this instance, that meant teaching you how to access your own Mind Palace. So John watched as Sherlock sat across from you once more and tried to get you to access your own mind.

After a while, you grew frustrated and went to stand up. However, you froze about half way there. Without taking your eyes off Sherlock, you sank back down as tears sprang into your eyes. "Oh, god. I-I remember. Oh, god," you whispered before getting up to run to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. Whatever it was you remembered had rocked you to the core.

*time skip*

"Thank you," you told Sherlock softly as you left Scotland Yard. You'd finished telling the police what it was you remembered so they could finish closing the case. Sherlock looked down at you and gave an almost imperceptible nod. "I-I suppose I should return home now that I remember where I live." You raised your hand to hail a taxi.

In the brief seconds between your words and the arrival of the taxi, Sherlock found himself confused. John's words kept playing in his mind. Well, it didn't help that John was on his other side, nudging him with his elbow. "Ask her out," he hissed, "Ask her or lose your chance." Sherlock sighed and pulled out his phone.

"You're texting? Now?" Sherlock ignored John's exasperated gasp and let his gaze travel back to you. Your brows furrowed when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Pulling it out, you read the text and smiled.

Dinner? Pick you up at 7 o'clock on Saturday.

-SH

You glanced back at Sherlock and nodded as you climbed into the taxi. The smile never left your face, even when the taxi drove off to take you home. Sherlock waved down a carfor John and himself, his mind bouncing in all different directions as he planned his perfect date with you.