Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

III • 3

Two and a half weeks passed so quickly, you catching up with John, going on cases with him and Sherlock, and trying desperately to get on the latter's good side. He still hadn't opened up and you didn't hold out much hope.
You'd be going home Saturday.
You were just beginning to pack your stuff when John entered the room.
"Say, (F/N), you should move in. Mrs. Hudson has an empty flat downstairs and I don't think I could bear to let you go again."
You weren't really surprised. He'd been skeptical about your moving to Scotland in the first place- he was very protective of you despite the fact that you were a responsible adult.
"Oh gosh, John." You sighed. "I can't. I can't just up and move 500 miles!"
"But (F/N)..." He was practically begging. You'd never heard him beg.
"At least think about it." He said finally.
"Alright, fine. I'll sleep on it."

There really wasn't anything special about Scotland. You had a little flat there, a couple of friends, sure, but hey, it was a day trip. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to live near your brother. Besides, you really wanted to figure Sherlock out.

You went down to Mrs. Hudson's flat and knocked on the door.
"Oh hello dearie, come on in, I'll make you a cuppa."
"Thank you." You said, accepting her offer.
"You wouldn't happen to have a flat available would you?" You asked innocently.
"Well, sure. C is still empty. Has been for years now."
"How much?"
"£280."
"Hmm. Not bad. Can I see it?"
"Of course, dear." She took a key from the hook by her door and led you around to 221C.
It was dark and dusty inside, but you could imagine what it would look like once you cleaned it up.
"Can I think about it?"
"Of course."

You'd need a job, but it could actually work. You went upstairs and grabbed your coat and scarf from John's flat, then went out. You were going to look for a job.
"Dear, if you're going to move in you'll need a job I suspect. Speedy's is looking for waitresses, if that helps." Mrs. Hudson called out her door.
"Thanks!" You responded. How convenient.

You slept in Sherlock's room that night, since he had informed you earlier that he would be on the sofa thinking all night, 'cleaning out his mind palace' as he put it.
At 2:30 in the morning he appeared in the doorway. You were awake, but you had no intention of letting him know that. He watched you for a minute, but just as he turned to leave, you rolled over, whimpered slightly, and began to shiver violently. You wanted to know how he would react. He watched you for another moment, then you felt the warm weight of a quilt over your body. You smiled.
He was being nice when he thought no one noticed.

You were still wrapped up in the quilt when you woke. You smiled, thinking about the night before. Maybe you were getting through to him.
You got out of bed and began to change. You were still smiling as you walked out of the room.
John was in the kitchen making tea, and Sherlock was thinking on the sofa, in his usual position.
"Who gave me a quilt last night?" You asked innocently.
Sherlock ignored you and John shrugged.
"Well if it wasn't you, it must've been Sherlock." You said with a smirk.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but it's more likely that you got it yourself in your sleep than for Sherlock to have given it to you." John chuckled.
"I don't know," you said, glancing at Sherlock on the sofa, "He might be more human than you're giving him credit for."
John looked between the two of you with uncertainty, but shook it off.
"Alright (F/N), I'm headed to work. See you later." He gave you a hug.
"Bye." You smiled.

As soon as John left, Sherlock opened his eyes.
"More human than he's giving me credit for, huh?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Yeah, I wasn't asleep when you gave me that quilt last night." You smirked at him.
"I know." He said, as though he wasn't even really listening. "I just wanted to know how you would react. It made for an interesting experiment."
You felt your cheeks get hot. He had just completely turned that around on you. You had been so proud that you'd tricked him into an act of kindness. You saw him smirk, and looked away.
"Well, I'd best be off." You said as casually as you could, grabbing your coat.
"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, without moving.
"You're the only one here that doesn't need to work, you know." You said, slightly defensively.
"You don't have a job."
"Yeah, well, I'm going to get one."
Sherlock didn't respond, so you left the flat, letting the door slam.
That man bugged you. At first he had intrigued you, but now he just bugged you. He didn't seem to understand what it was like to be a normal human being. But then there was that incident with the quilt. And the ever growing knot in your stomach when he spoke. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but you had a thing for your brother's flatmate, the world's only consulting detective, brash jerk and insensitive sociopath. You fancied Sherlock Holmes.