Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

IV • 4

You were in a rather foul mood when you stormed into the flat several hours later. John had not yet arrived home, and Sherlock was still on the sofa.
"No luck." Sherlock stated. It wasn't even a concerned question, just a flat out statement.
"None." You replied darkly.
You went to the kitchen area to make tea, and discovered several body parts scattered across the counters.
You sighed. You needed to organise this chaos.
As Sherlock laid unmoving on the sofa, oblivious to your actions, you spent the next couple of hours tidying up the flat.
You cleaned out the fridge and icebox and labeled a special portion just for Sherlock's bloody experiments. You wiped down the counters and organised the cabinets, allowing two for Sherlock's lab equipment. You washed the dishes and swept the floor. Moving out into the living area, you moved the books lying around to the bookshelf where you organised them by size. You dusted the surfaces and vacuumed the floor. You organised John's desk and neatly stacked the files in the drawer.
Wiping your dusty palms on your jeans, you looked around at your handiwork. Much better.
You lit a fire on the hearth, then, exhausted, you collapsed into John's chair. You fell asleep almost instantly, but were awakened an hour later when John came home. He took one look at the flat, then at you sprawled in his chair, and knew you had done everything yourself. Not like Sherlock would even dream of helping.
He went to the kitchen to make tea, and was relieved to see that everything was in order.
When he came back out, you were sitting upright.
"Thank you, (F/N)." He said, kissing your temple and placing a hot cup of tea in your hands.

You slept in John's chair that night, determined to find a job the next day. You wanted your own flat.

You got up at exactly 8 and made your morning tea. Both the boys were still asleep, so you scribbled a note and left, stopping only to grab your coat and scarf on the way out.
You stopped at every shop with vacancy, applying and then leaving with hope.

You didn't get back to Baker street until mid afternoon. You had applied for at least 20 separate jobs.
You had turned your phone off earlier to avoid distraction, and now that you powered it back on you were assaulted with texts from Sherlock.
Where are you? - SH
Come back. - SH
Please. - SH
I need your help on a case. - SH
John's gone to work, I'm bored! - SH

You rolled your eyes with a small smile and stopped reading the texts halfway through.
Your cab stopped at 221B, and you hopped out after paying the driver.
You trudged up the stairs and opened the door.
"I'm home, Sherlock."
He was moping on the sofa, several case files strewn about in his general area. Otherwise, the flat still looked fairly clean.
"Why didn't you come home sooner?" He whined.
"Sherlock." You sighed, you weren't even mad at him. He sounded so needy. "I need to get a job, you know that." You picked up one of the case files and opened it.
"Solved it." Sherlock said in monotone, not even bothering to look at which one you were holding.
"You've solved them all then?"
"Yep." He said, focusing his emphasis on the p.
"Oh Sherlock." You sighed again and ran a hand through his curls, in more of sisterly fashion than anything else, but noticed his face go slightly pink.
"Want to play Cluedo?" You asked, so as to avoid any embarrassing silence.
A smile crept onto his face, and he swung his legs off the sofa, sending files flying.

You spent the next couple of hours playing the game, by Sherlock's rules of course, and were still playing when John walked in.
He smiled at the sight of you two, engrossed in the board game.
"Hope he wasn't too much trouble,
(F/N)." He said casually, hanging up his coat. "Nah, he wasn't too bad. He totally cheats though." Sherlock looked truly offended until you winked at him, then he smirked.

******

A/N- Totally just a filler because I clean when I'm frustrated :')