High Functioning Hopeless Romantic

Chapter 10

I didn't see Sherlock till the late next day, but he was now planted firmly in my mind. I thought of the hug, I thought of him saving my life, I thought of his hair and his eyes and his mysterious personality.

Then I dismissed it all.

The only reason I had been thinking so much of him was because he had been the one to untie me from the railroad tracks. That's it. Otherwise, he was still the same annoying and rude bloke he'd been since I met him.

A knock came from the door and thankfully I was close by, sitting on a stool in my kitchen typing away at my next project. I dismissed looking through the peephole, instead just opening it blindly. Big mistake. Sherlock pushed himself inside, then turned around manically to face me.

"Oh sure, come in," I commented sarcastically.

"I'm already inside," he remarked, giving me a strange look. I rolled my eyes, clueless as to how this brainiac couldn't take a joke.

"What do you want?" I asked, purposefully adding in a dramatized sigh and annoyed tone.

"We need to run wedding errands."

"We?" I asked in disbelief. I had become accustomed to roaming the shops by myself, or with Mary, and therefore wasn't looking forward to a new member, especially Sherlock, joining me.

"Yes we. And you can't fight it because Mary is the one that requested this." I groaned. Mary had, in a short time, turned into one of my closest friends. Not only was she a hell of a lot of fun to be around, but one of the few people, besides Molly, that I had now confided in about my late mother.

"Fine," I said, giving in. Mary was the bride, and she had welcomed me with open arms - the least I could do is pay her back for her kindness by putting myself through hell. "Give me five minutes to change."

"Three minutes."

I threw a pillow at him.

>><<

I roamed around the glasses and dishes, scanning which ones Mary had requested me too. Seeing as the wedding was in a couple weeks, she didn't have a lot time to do all her bridely duties, therefore I was next in line to take over, well and Sherlock. Speaking of that curly haired punk, he was somewhere in the store, thankfully not around me. I continued moseying down the aisles, until I rounded one and ran straight into a tall, suit wearing figure.

"Watch where you're going," I said gruffly.

"You act as if I'm the only one with eyes here."

"Well you're taller, you should've seen me coming." Okay maybe not my best comeback. Sherlock must have agreed because he gave me a smartass smirk, and pushed past me down another aisle.

>><<

After finishing the bridely duties, we had finally made it back to 221A. I didn't bother saying bye to Sherlock, instead I just walked up to my front door and unlocked it. I couldn't pinpoint why I was so angry with the detective. He hadn't said anything to upset me on the car ride there, nor on the way back; in all honesty, there wasn't anything to be mad at him for. And in a weird way, I think that's why I was mad. He was so... right. All the time. And he knew it too, he flaunted it, he held that aura about him that screamed "I know that I'm the smartest arse around and there's nothing you can do about it." But he was right to flaunt it - he truly was brilliant. And it pissed me off. There was nothing that annoyed me more than arrogance, or arrogant people. Granted, sometimes I was, but I aimed to be humble, modest - ask for the criticism, but respect the compliments.

I pushed open the door, heading inside to my flat. I heard a cough from behind me and I turned around, jumping out of my socks when I realized a person had been behind me the whole time.

"Sherlock what the bloody hell are you doing?!" I asked, holding my hand over my heart and breathing hard.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." His tone was soft, as was his face. He looked slightly nervous, almost sad.

"What do you want?" I asked with a sharper tone than I meant to use. Instantly his face hardened.

"I was just going to talk you more about last night."

"I already told you everything Sherlock." My heart started speeding up. I wanted to forget last night, forget that it had ever happened.

"I know, but there is some stuff I have to tell you." I went to close the door, then rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. I nodded and gulped down nervousness. I got the strange feeling that whatever Sherlock was going to tell me, I would not want to hear. I went to sit down on the couch, then looked up at him.

"You can sit down if you want," I offered awkwardly, but he continued standing and began rambling.

"About three months ago John was kidnapped and placed in a fire." My jaw dropped open. "Thankfully we got him out, but only by solving a riddle that some unknown person had sent me. He did this to John to get to me. I don't know who this person is, but I'm sensing it is the same person to took you last night." I tried to recover from the shock I was experiencing. Was he actually serious? This kind of stuff only happens in the movies... Or to other people. Not to a girl like me who writes and spends her days watching movies and stuffing her face with food. My life was not exciting or exhilarating or God forbid, dangerous. It was simple and boring, that is until Sherlock Holmes stepped into it. I began to regret moving to 221A.

"But why would he kidnap me? I'm just the girl who lives next door."

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," remarked Sherlock, and his curls shook in frustration. "I thought maybe Mrs. Hudson would be next, that he would be taking people I actually cared about, but kidnapping you doesn't follow the pattern." I bit my lip. For the five minutes we had been discussing this whole thing, he actually had not said a single thing to piss you off. But no, he was still an arse.

"Get out," I growled, grabbing his arm and pushing him towards the door. He looked taken aback, and slightly hurt, but I ignored it. "Out," I ordered. I expected him to argue - wanted him to argue - but he just stood outside the door, looking at me with an indescribable look. I shut the door in his face, then leaned against it on my back.

It was official, I hated Sherlock Holmes.

>><<

Short and boring update, but I promise to be back sooner than 7 months.

(Trying to get back into the feel of this story, so bear with me.)