Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

XII • 12

"So, Mrs. Hudson. I have a huge favour to ask of you."

You had knocked on the door of her flat moments after your conversation with Kenzie.

"Yes, dear?"
"Well, my best mate from Scotland is coming round in a couple of weeks. She's bringing my dog with her. Would it be too much to ask to keep him here? He's really very well behaved."
Mrs. Hudson made a bit of a face. "I don't know, love."
Apparently you had on a begging face, because the moment she looked at you her features softened.
"Three years ago, I would have said absolutely not. But then, I suppose a mutt couldn't possibly make more of a mess and a ruckus than Sherlock."
You laughed, agreeing wholeheartedly. "I promise you, he has much better manners."
She chuckled. "Alright then. But remember, I am not your housekeeper. I will not be cleaning up after him."
"Of course, thank you so so much, Mrs H! You hugged her and bounded out the door.
"(F/N)!" Sherlock called from the top of the stairs.
"Yes?" You spun toward him and looked up.
"Please join me. I could use some help on Stauffer's case."
You smiled. Nothing better to do. You bounded up the stairs two at a time, nearly barrelling over Sherlock who still stood in the doorway.
"Goodness (N/N), you have a lot of energy. Perhaps we should work this out on a walk?"
"Okay!" You readily agreed, running back down the stairs.
Sherlock shook his head with a smile, then followed you down, taking his coat and scarf from the hook by the door.
The two of you started down the pavement, whilst Sherlock explained his theory so far.

******

"Do you think the Major is hiding something?"
"He could be, or it could simply be pressure points. The kind everyone has that are not criminal but still highly sensitive."
"But why continue for ten full years? If they wanted money they must've gotten enough by now."
"That's the part that interests me. He can't be after money, not anymore at least, it's unlikely he's after power, he certainly has it right now, so what does he want?"

You and Sherlock had walked a good bit at this point, having made it to a small park. You sat on a bench together, Sherlock going over all of his theories in meticulous detail, while you tried your best to keep up.
It was beginning to get dark by the time you started back. The walk home was much quieter, and though you didn't quite know how, you eventually found your hand in Sherlock's.
Within a half mile of your flat, the sun had gone down completely, and you found yourself quite cold. You removed your hand from his to replace them around your own arms, trying in vain to preserve what little body heat remained.
Observing this, Sherlock shrugged off his coat and placed it on your shoulders.
You smiled gratefully at him as you slid your arms in and wrapped up in the oversized coat. It was incredibly long, brushing your ankles as you walked. That aside, it was quite pleasant, as well as familiar and comforting.
Your excessive energy from earlier was running low by the time you got back.
Sherlock stopped by the door of your flat.
"You were a great help today. Thank you."
"My pleasure." You smiled then reached up and kissed him.
Don't let it go this time, Sherlock!
It was a bit awkward, but he managed to kiss you back.
Absolutely lovely.

John's POV:

I'd had to work late and I'd just gotten off. I was tired and I couldn't wait to go to bed before work in the morning. I reached the door and opened it. The sight before me nearly stopped me dead in my tracks.
Sherlock was kissing you. Sherlock was. It was so completely uncharacteristic that I had no idea what to do or say, but my brotherly instinct took charge.
Sherlock was cruel. He'd do something like this as an experiment. It couldn't be genuine.
I grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt, then threw a punch that landed hard on his jaw.
He stumbled back a few feet, but managed to catch himself on the railing of the stairs.
"What the HECK, John?" You yelled at me. I ignored you and continued glaring at Sherlock, who had his hand to his jaw, which was quickly turning an ugly red.
"How dare you go about snogging my baby sister?" I yelled.
"John!"
I eventually turned round toward you.
"How dare YOU go about throwing punches before you know all the facts?" You were pissed.
I tried to say something in my defence, but you cut me off.
"No, John, nothing you have to say will justify what you just did."
I tried again, but this time you cut me off with a low growl. "One, this was not the first time. Two, he did not initiate it. You owe him a serious apology."
I was shocked, and I knew I looked it. I stared at you for a moment, then stormed out the door without another word.

Your POV:

"God I hate him sometimes!"
Sherlock still stood there, his hand to his jaw, now slightly swollen.
You took his unoccupied hand and led him into your flat.
"I'll get some ice, hang tight." You hurried off to the kitchen and soon returned with several ice cubes wrapped in a kitchen towel. You gently removed his hand from his face and replaced it with the ice. He grimaced a bit but didn't protest.
"Don't mind him, he's always been over protective of me. He'll come round.
As if to prove that John's words and actions had had no effect, you kissed him once more.
He smiled a little.