Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

XVII • 17

You had gone back to your flat to enjoy some quiet before Kenzie came.
So much for that.
An hour and a half had gone by, for most of which Sherlock had been playing.
Now you heard the clatter of him rushing down the stairs. You set your book down, entirely expecting him to burst in.
Instead, he called from the hallway, "Coming?"
You cursed him silently. That darned voice of his that always made your stomach flip and your heart race. You simply couldn't say no to it.
You grabbed your coat from the hook on your wall and flung open the door.
He grinned and beckoned you, hailing a cab as you stepped into the street.

******

"Sherlock?"
"Yeah?" He glanced at you.
"I feel.. I feel like I've replaced John. When I first came to visit, you didn't even want me going to a crime scene, now I'm the only one that ever comes with you." This had been bothering you for a couple of weeks, but you weren't really sure how to approach it.
Head first, I guess.
Sherlock looked away for a minute, his face a mask. "John was already drifting before you came. He needed more time to work and he didn't come with me much anymore. I suppose it was bound to happen, but he'd earned it. He was the first to give me the time of day."
He had said all this while staring out the window, and, as he turned back toward you, his expression was one you'd never seen before.
Almost like reminiscence. Like he was remembering how much he had been rejected and turned away until John. All the hurt that had built his stony exterior, until John had opened him up.
You felt a wave of... something, wash over you. Somewhere between pity and admiration.
"I guess it's you Watsons." He said with a small smile.
He looked like he needed a hug.
Since you couldn't hug him whilst sitting in a cab, you opted to scoot over, lay your small hand on top of his and lean against his shoulder.

I wanted so bad to pull you closer and kiss you right there. 'Not on a case', I scolded myself, 'Never on a case.' I had already allowed emotions to take over this far, but I certainly could not allow them to distract me from a case. So I strengthened my resolve, staring ahead while you leaned on me.

You noticed him stiffen up a bit. You looked up at him and saw him staring straight ahead, with absolutely no recognition of you whatsoever. You screwed up your nose. He changed so quickly and you just couldn't keep up.
You moved away from him again, and could have sworn he'd glanced in your direction out of the corner of his eye, but he never changed his expression.

You arrived at your destination several minutes later, and he got out and stalked off without a word. You strongly considered taking the cab back home, but decided against it. Your curiosity wouldn't allow you to abandon him on such an interesting case, so you climbed out and ran after him.
The house was a modest one, but spacious. It was rural, with a good bit of property in the back.
Sherlock knocked on the door and moments later a lady of about seventy opened it.
Sherlock instantly changed his personality, his voice assuming innocence.
"Mrs. Wieland?" He asked.
"Yes?" The lady responded.
"I'm sorry to bother you. I'm a detective, Sherlock Holmes. The case I've been working on has led me to your son, Harvey. I came to ask if you might have any of his possessions that would.. further my investigation."
You nearly gawked at him. He sounded so unlike his usual brisk, insensitive self. His manner was almost questioning, as though he was unsure of himself.
"What sort of things are you looking for, Mr. Holmes?" She looked a bit suspicious, but didn't blow us off.
Well, didn't blow him off. Sherlock hadn't even mentioned you, although you stood by his side.
"Sherlock, please. I'm especially after a personal log. Diary, notes, that sort?"
He sounded so incredibly innocent, undemanding, you couldn't quite believe he was the same person.
"Y-yes, I believe I have his journal.. Come in, I'll look for it." She sounded a bit cautious, but opened the door wider.
Sherlock gave her one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen on him. "Thank you, thank you so much."
She led you to the sitting room, then bustled off to look for the journal.
"Why the act?" You asked him in a hushed tone.
"I need her to trust me enough to give me what I want." He returned, speaking out of the corner of his mouth, his face back to it's normal stony indifference.
Mrs. Wieland returned several minutes later carrying a small leather bound book, and you saw Sherlock immediately resume his character.
"Ah, thank you so much, I really appreciate it." He smiled as she handed him the book.
He opened it, flipping to the back. He scanned back from the last entry until he found what he was looking for.

April 17, 2003 -
He told me his name this time. I'd heard whispers of it around, but never had I imagined I would meet him myself. Moriarty. He said I must continue the notes to the Major, and I would be rewarded. The reward must be immense coming from him. I will continue until I hear otherwise.

"Perfect!" Sherlock stood abruptly, completely blowing off the act this time. He thrust the book back into Mrs. Wieland's hands, ignoring the utter shock on her face, and strode out.
"Thank you and goodbye." He called, as though finally remembering his manners.
You turned to the woman, who looked positively shell shocked.
"I'm so sorry, he's like that sometimes. Please ignore him. Thank you kindly." You smiled at her gratefully, then followed the detective.