It's Only Temporary (Sherlock fanfic)

Chapter 6 • I Just Need a Moment

Sherlock sat in his chair with a smile on his face. I went to the couch and grabbed my coffee off of the coffee table. And I was very tempted to drink it, but it would extend my hatred for this man. The man, who Sherlock had introduced as John, came and inspected my for any new injuries while I had my little outburst. He only found a few bruises before popping my shoulder back into place. I thanked him as he returned to his chair opposite of Curly-cues.

"You alright?" Greg asked next to me. I nodded.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Hudson said. "I had no idea he was that bad, was he?"

I looked up at the sweet lady over me. "No, no. Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock only helped me with my bad up the stairs and left. Nothing else happened I can assure you!"

"So you didn't. . ." she twirled her hand around. I shook my head and pulled a piece of my hair behind my ear. The lady gave a disappointed expression before turning to head into the kitchen.

I turned to John. "What was that about?" I whispered.

"She knows he hasn't had a successful relationship before. But honestly, we both think he needs to get laid. He's too uptight sometimes." The way he said that so casually, just wow. I turned to Greg and he nodded in agreement.

"I heard that," Sherlock commented.

"I was hoping you did."

He turned to John who gave him a calm look. He focused his eyes on him and lowered his hand. "Glad to see your on my side."

"I actually am," John said, sass coating his tone. Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked away.

"Do you have a spare room available?" I asked before they began a huge conversation with me in the room while they might yell across the room. The boys looked at me.

John glanced at Sherlock, taking a breath. "Em, yeah. What for? Need a place to stay?" He crossed his arms and shrugged.

I shook my head. "Hell no! I'm not staying with this psychopath--"

"Sociopath," Sherlock retorted. I glared at the man giving me a straight face. "But most people prefer to call me a--"

"Psychopath," I finished. "And I know why, so please don't talk anymore if you still want that stupid hair on your head before I leave."

"You couldn't rip my hair--"

"SHERLOCK!" John yelled. He gave the man a frustrated look before turning to me. "Yes we do, Miss. . . "

"O'Cain."

"Miss O'Cain. Follow me." He tilted his head towards the kitchen and began walking. I followed shortly behind. He showed me into a small room with a single window. "If you don't mind me asking--"

"I just need a moment alone," I answered for him. "And I can't really go back to my apartment with a bunch of cop cars being there." He gave me a confused face. "My roommate was the thief of the family goblet. I'm sure your friend can tell you more."' He nodded and shut the door behind him.

I looked around the small room. There wasn't much in it except a bed. There weren't any dressers or nightstands. It was just a room with a bed. A comfy bed, if I might add.

"Sherlock, what was that?" I heard John ask from outside the door. I sat on the bed and flipped my hair to the other side.

"Why do you care?" His voice was just audible enough for me to make out what we head saying. There were footsteps coming a bit closer to the door. It was probably the kitchen that someone was in.

"I care because you are being completely rude to a young woman who probably need a place to stay until the police evacuate her apartment!"

I began to admire John a little bit for what he said. He's only known me in less than an hour and he's calling out a man who's met me twice--no, three times in the last twenty-four hours. It brought a smile to grow on my face as he went on.

"Don't you ever feel guilty when you do that sort of stuff?"

"No, not really. Except for the Christmas party." Sherlock sounded nearer than John did. He must at be in the kitchen. He's probably gone to get more tea. Wait, did he have tea before I asked about the spare room? Never mind. Not important.

"Sherlock, you need to start taking other's views and problems into consideration or at least not blurting out their problems whenever you feel like it. You deduced that girl, you know she's trying to get a new start, yes? Well, you are giving her one hell of a time her on her. . . " there was a short pause. "First week here in the U.K. At least let it be somewhat enjoyable and then you can go back to your cocky self."

Without thinking, I found myself bursting out of the door and wrapping my arms around the small man that defended me. He was hesitant at first, but John soon awkwardly gave into the hug before I pulled away, showing my tear-ridden cheeks and red eyes. I coughed out a chuckled as I wiped the trails on my cheeks away.

"Sorry," I said with a laugh. "Now your back is probably drenched in tears."

John waved it away. "It's fine--"

"No--no--no! It's not fine. That's the best thing I've ever heard someone say and the first time someone has defended me. Twenty-eight years of an unsupportive family and I get someone defending me that's only known me within the hour!"

"It's not your fault," he soothed. "Not all families are perfect."

[third person: The poor girl was brought into a hug by John who rubbed her back in an effort to calm her. Zaira wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she was encouraged to let all of her feelings loose. John scolded the man at the stove with a new cup of tea. Sherlock watched the emotional wreck continue to cry into his best friend's sweater]

I pulled back from the kind man to the awful one by the stove. He casually sipped his cup with a straight face. I hated him. I've made that official now. I hate Sherlock!

All of those things he has exposed to my uncle, the sweet lady from downstairs, even this kind man were supposed to be kept under wraps but now that's not possible. I kind of admire him for that because without his cockiness, I would've never heard those amazing words leave John's mouth and I would never have found a new friend.
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My cats are insane and these updates will be irregular just so you know