Random x readers

Body Language (Sherlock x Reader)

"It isn't a double date when one of the couples is married and the otherisn't a couple, Mary, this is what you call a set up." You protested, following your friend out to her car. Mary didn't mention that you were dressed to the nines anyway in the lacy red number you told her you were saving for the right one. She also didn't mention that you wore stilettos, not flats. "Oh, you'll love him, [Name], he's just like you. Sarcastic. Acidic. Cynical." Mary said, shooting you a look. You chuckled and settled into your seat. For Mary, you would give this a chance.

"This is hardly necessary, John. I could find my own dates if I wanted them." Sherlock insisted as John led him to the cab. John only sighed heavily andpushed Sherlock into his seat."You've proven to be interested in females, Sherlock, and in Mary's friends. Just do this one night. If you don't like her, you'll only have to avoid her eyes at the Christmas party." Sherlock groaned and tightened his scarf around his neck. John didn't mention that Sherlock had his clothes dry cleaned and his shoes shined for this. He'd even gone so far as to get his hair trimmed.

The first meeting happened at the table. He approached from the left, you approached from the right, watching him. Quick eye movement, subtle crinkle of the lid, tilt at the corner of his mouth, idle tapping of the fingers against his thigh, his mouth opening to announce, "You're analyzing me." At the same moment as you used the same words to voice your disbelief. A laugh was shared between the four, and a look between Mary and John.

Mary's said, See, I told you they were perfect.John's said, We'll see.

"I'm Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes." He said, offering his hand. You shook it and smiled."Hmm. Last I heard that name The Great was inserted in front of it, rather sarcastically, I might add. I am [First Name] [Last Name]. It's a pleasure." Following John's lead, he helped you remove your coat and pulled out his seat for you.Polite, you observed, not romantic. Sherlock had become self-conscious of his body language. He did not want you reading him.

"I'm sure you get this all the time, Sherlock, but what have you figured out about me? You've been sizing me up since we walked through the door." You ask. Sherlock's lip twitches slightly. He thinks to complain about not being a cheap party trick, but John gives him another look and he goes on."You're a Body Language Expert at the New Scotland Yard— that one's cheating, only Anderson and Donovan call me The Great Sherlock Holmes sarcastically outside of my presence. You're also a therapist, steady voice, constant eye contact. You normally wear a ring on your right index finger and you recently went on a cruise. Tan line. The ring has some kind of spinning mechanism for your restless thumb. You're annoyed at Mary— for dragging you here, probably, or not telling you who you were meeting. Can't blame you on that one.  And you're still analyzing me."

You grinned and clapped softly at Sherlock's deductions. Really, if he was going to figure out that you wore the ring within seconds of meeting you, there had been no point in taking it off. You would raise this issue with Mary later. Sherlock looked pleased with himself as he took his seat. The waiter came and went with drinks and appetizers, and a lull in the conversation came.

    "So tell me, [First Name], what did you deduce from your analysis of Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock gave him a sharp look as he took his own seat, but John kept smiling. You look between the three of them and see that they are all wearing their various brands of interested."He doesn't want to be here. Feet pointed towards the exit at all times, unwillingness to remove his own coat despite helping me with mine— thank you, by the way— eyes on his watch at all times. He wants to know how stupid I am. No, not how stupid, but how much more stupid than him I am. Always looking down his nose, frowning, thinking. He's a user. Heroin. Steady hands, strong right thumb, wrist twisted out— recovering user with that eyebrow twitch, my apologies. Coping with nicotine patches. Stiff arm, he's wearing two right now. He plays a stringed instrument, violin to be specific. Great posture, steady neck. How wrong am I?"The difference strikes Sherlock then.

When he finished his deductions, he knew that he was correct beyond a shadow of a doubt. You were confident while sharing your observations, but the confidence ended there."Bloody hell, she's got you pinned, Sherlock." John exclaimed, grinning at you. Sherlock frowned, but said nothing. Mary gave John her I was right smile and you and Sherlock went back to silently analyzing each other.

The band began to play your favorite waltz and you remembered that you were eating at the edge of a ballroom. The datewas a way for John and Mary to get you out of your respective homes, of course, but it was also a way to force you both into celebrating the new year."Oh, do dance with me, Sherlock. Just one waltz?" John did not give Sherlock a chance to answer the request himself, he forced the man to stand with a look and the two of you took to the ballroom floor. John and Mary don't mention thatneitherof you would dance if you did not want to.

The conversation as you waltzed was low and hushed. The dance was not. Sherlock lead and you glided into his motions, step for step. The two of you drifted across the dance floor in  a way that was not quite sensual, but not quite innocent. There was something lying just underneath that manifested in flared nostrils and a chest turned towards you and the dilation of his pupils.

The dance ended in tension and heavy breathing. Sherlock lead you back to the table with a hand on your waist and pulled out your chair with perfect posture. You tried not to let him notice you noticing him, but the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth informed you that you were caught.Mary and John called the evening a stunning success. In the back seat of the car, you and Sherlock compared  your daily struggles with Anderson and Donovan. Sherlock walked you to your door, and pressed a polite kiss into the palm of your hand.

"A final deduction?" You offered before he could turn away."If you must.""The Great Sherlock Holmes likes this dress."

He smirked.

Author:http://kayoenfreer.deviantart.com/art/Body-Language-Sherlock-x-Reader-465737855