Mr Holmes

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One month later
"Do you think that the people on set will mind that I help you with your Sherlock script? I mean, isn't the whole plot supposed to be really hush-hush?" You ask, putting your hair into a loose bun on the top of your head. You look at Benedict through the mirror, watching him slowly get up from the side of the bed which he was sat on and walk over to you. He rests his chin on your shoulder, smiling at you through the mirror.

"I don't think anyone could care less. They all prefer you to me anyway, so they wouldn't be bothered" Benedict jokes, smirking before pecking your neck and walking to the other floor length mirror on the other side of the bedroom.
You turn round, your hand resting on your hip with a smirk plastered on your face as you watch Benedict ruffle his black 'Sherlock' curls.

"Who knew that it would take a bloke this long to do his hair" you comment, jokingly. Benedict turns round and playfully glares at you before turning back to the mirror.

"The show relies on these curls. I'd be letting Sherlock fans down everywhere if they aren't curled to absolute perfection". Benedict jokes. You chuckle before you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek against his back.

"This is a really awkward hug, I can't move now" Benedict moans, laughing lightly before turning round, making you move off him. He cups your face in his hands and slowly places his lips onto yours.

"What time do you think you'll be home?" You ask him, rubbing your lipstick from his mouth. Benedict shrugs

"Wish I knew" he replies, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear before admiring your face.

"these long curls are an excellent look on you Mr Cumberbatch" you comment, entwining your fingers with Benedict's curls at the back of his head. He shrugs, grinning before checking his watch.

"Shit, I'm late. The cab should be here now, ill see you later darling." He says quickly before kissing your cheek and quickly walking out of the bedroom.
---
You wander around the kitchen, cleaning pots and generally having a bit of a tidy. You were supposed to be meeting Gaby and a few friends for a drink, but with Gaby increasing her stay in Italy for her honeymoon, you all decided to cancel.

You walk into the living room, sitting on the sofa and pulling your phone from your jean pocket.
You click onto Instagram, checking the likes and comments that you anticipated that you'd get after posting a photo of Benedict fast asleep on the sofa, captioned "brilliant company for a Friday night👍". Of course, you smile at the comments of fans hyperventilating and reposting it onto their own accounts- hysterically fangirling at the fact that 'Benedict actually sleeps!' And how 'beautiful he looked when he slept'. You loved his fans, really loved them. You would occasionally tweet them and when they saw you in the streets, you would now be asked personally for photos- something that didn't bother you anywhere near as much as it used to.

You suddenly receive a notification from Benedict.

I've left my lunch on the counter in the kitchen. Could you pop it back in the fridge for me please? I'll eat it tomorrow - Ben x

You get off the sofa and walk into the kitchen to see Benedict's lunch sitting on the counter. His lunch that you'd made him in the tuple-wear that you'd gotten him. You roll your eyes slightly before you yank your ankle boots on that were by your feet and shove the lunchbox into your handbag.
You walk slowly over to the Sherlock set, not wanting to disturb a scene but wanting to speak to anyone who would pass Benedict's lunch onto him.

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