Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Life

Chapter 25

I just about managed to pile Sherlock into the back of Lestrade's car with the help of John and the D.I. Himself, and we set off for Baker Street. The entire car ride was spent with me in the back seat and Sherlock's head resting on my lap; me running my fingers through his curls as he murmured unintelligible things.

When we arrived back at casa de Johnlock, we hauled the detective out of the car and up to his bed. I pulled the quilt over him, up to his chin, and stole a moment while John and Greg weren't in the room to run my fingers through his hair once more. Again, he grumbled something but I couldn't quite tell what it was that he said. He grabbed the covers and pulled them closer to him; I smiled before heading back through to the living room where John was complaining about not being able to go out anymore because he had to look after Sherlock.

"I'll babysit." I said

"You sure? He's a handful." John replied

"Yeah, I can handle him. Go out and have fun!" I smiled, picking up an apple from the fruit bowl on the coffee table. John grinned at my proposition and thanked me before almost running out of the door.

"Right, if you're ok here I'll get going." Lestrade said, stood in the middle of the room with his hand on his hips looking very out of place

"Yep, I'm all good. Thanks Greg."

"No problem." he said, wandering out of the door. "Good night and good luck!" he called from the top of the stairs.

After the boys had left, I made myself a cup of tea and put the TV on as I ate my apple. I thought I may as well make myself at home since it looked like I was going to be there for a while. There had been about half an hour of background noise from the television when I heard the sound of someone stumbling around in Sherlock's bedroom. The man himself must have come around. I pushed myself off of the sofa and made my way down to the room that all of the commotion was coming from. Pushing open the door, I found a dazed Sherlock wobbling around in the middle of the room. Suddenly, he swayed too hard in one direction and started to tip so I ran over to him and placed one of my hands on his chest and the other on his back to help keep him upright as I guided him back to his bed.

"Come on, back to bed." I said, removing the hand which was placed over Sherlock's rapidly beating heart and allowing him to flop face first on to the mattress. "You need time to rest and recover from whatever it was that woman gave to you."

"Nnnno I don't, I'm perrrfectly fine." Sherlock slurred

"Sure you are."

"I am fine. I'm completely fine. Perfectly fine!" he exclaimed

"Right. Tell me that when you can walk in a straight line without falling over." I laughed before closing his bedroom door again and heading back to the living room to resume my late night news viewing.

It was about half past ten when a confused Sherlock meandered slowly into the front room and sat down in his chair.

"Where's John?" he asked

"He went out with Stamford. He was going to stay here but when I said I'd babysit he was gone like a flash." I explained

"Babysit? I'm not a baby! Do I look like a baby to you?" Sherlock exclaimed in mild outrage

"Well I don't know. Sometimes I question your right to adulthood." I joked with a grin

"Oh, thanks." he said sarcastically

"You're welcome." I smiled, "Do you want some tea?"

"Why not, it might help me sleep."

"You too, huh?" I said, wandering into the kitchen and flicking the kettle on.

"You've been having trouble sleeping? Why? Is it Mycroft? Has he been forcing you to work too hard?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that the move was so sudden and..." I trailed off, realising what I was about to say

"What?" Sherlock coaxed me to continue

"Well, I just... It's just that... I couldn't stop thinking about you." I confessed reluctantly. I didn't dare turn to see his expression, instead I stood frozen, staring at the kettle which was now simmering.

"Don't be ashamed about it, I've not been sleeping for the same reason." Sherlock placed his hand on my forearm and I turned around, slightly confused, to face him and asked

"You were thinking about yourself?"

"What? No! I'm not that vain." he chuckled with a glint of joy sparkling in his eyes "I was thinking about you."

"Oh," I said, not exactly sure what other reaction to give. Almost instantly, I could feel my cheeks giving away my feelings as Sherlock gently took my small hands in his big ones.

"You see, Sarah, I've never been in love before, and what I feel for you, what I've felt since the moment we met, scared me, a lot. This is all completely new to me and I didn't know how to react."

"So you sent me to your brother without any warning and refused to answer my calls and texts?"

"Regrettably, yes. I'm sorry about that, by the way. I thought that distancing myself from you would weaken my feelings and the odd fuzzy sensation in my stomach would go away, but it turned out that it only made me want you more, to the point where I was becoming an insomniac because I couldn't shift the guilt that I felt about exiling you for no reason. It was only when John found me the other night drinking coffee at three in the morning that I realised just how bad I was getting. You see, what I've come to realise is that I can't live without you for any length of time and if I ever have to do so, I'd rather die than see it through. I have no experience when it comes to saying these words but I believe I'm using them correctly when I say that I love you, Sarah Cook. I really, really, love you." By this point tears were rolling down my face in waves and the only words I could think to say were

"I love you too, Sherlock Holmes." Without a moments hesitation, our lips collided. Completely synchronised and completely at home against each other.