If You Love Me, Get Clean

Chapter Five

2012

I know you think that I erased you
You may hate me, but I can't hate you
And I won't replace you

They'd eventually fallen into a comfortable cohabitation over the remaining couple of weeks Alice lived in 221b. John was much more relaxed about the whole situation, though still would poke his head into a room if Sherlock and Alice had been alone for a little bit too long. Not that it mattered anymore, Alice was finally moving into her own flat, which she had a suspicion Sherlock wasn't taking very well, but there's not a chance in hell she was going to be flat sharing with her cousin and her ex-boyfriend. Too weird, even for her.

She has a garden. A garden in central London. It feels bloody wonderful.

Sherlock slides a box along the kitchen counter, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "That's the last."

Alice looks up from her pile of books. "Oh, good. Thank you."

"You didn't exactly have many. Ten in total. Do you usually travel so light? I guess it makes–"

"Sherlock," he snaps his mouth shut, turning towards her. "You're rambling. If you want to stay, then stay. John's at work, he can't say a word. Feel free to organise my shelves if you want something to do."

He gave a nod. "I'd– uh... like to stay."

She smiles, a big bright thing that makes Sherlock feel like he was seventeen again. "That's fine. We could order a takeaway? Watch reruns of crappy telly? Just like we used to do."

"Sounds... good. I just– Uh," he scuffles about for a second, as if he's looking for something, then disappears into the hallway. Alice simply waits for him to reemerge, wondering what on earth he's trying to find. "Ah-ha!"

He strolls back in with a large box with a bow slapped on the top. She laughs. "What on earth–"

"House warming present." He sets it down next to the other box in the kitchen.

Alice climbs to her feet, meeting him at the counter top. Sherlock had gone out of his way to buy her something for the new flat, something useful, something she mentioned wanting last week. It's a proper coffee machine, chrome with all the add ons, a posh Italian one. He'd listened, made note of it, and made the purchase himself. "You bought me a coffee machine."

"Yes. Well," he clears his throat, and he looks so endearingly nervous Alice almost doesn't know what to do with herself. "You told me the other day you wanted one of those horrid pod machines, but this is much better. Like I said, you travelled light, there's a lot of things you'll need to buy I imagine, so I thought this would help narrow the list–"

She cuts him off by pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He stiffens, his face gaining the tiniest pink colour. "Thank you, Sherlock. I love it."

"You're welcome," he says softly, his body relaxing as he watches her bounce on her feet, genuinely excited about the gift. "I can order the take away. I know what's good in this area."

"Sure," she taps the bow sweetly and trots back over to her pile of books she was attempting to organise. Sherlock can't quite take his eyes off of her just yet though. She tips her head in concern. "You okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Just going to order now."

The food arrived quickly, and Sherlock of course was correct about knowing what was good in the area. He told Alice he'd bring over some menus next time he pops by, and he meant it. He doesn't intend to lose her again, he'll take what she's willing to give, and a friendship is already more than he deserves.