Lost Girl 🔍 (Sherlock x Reader) [EDITING]

Chapter 55: Really Not My Housekeeper

It's the high scene as well as Ms. Hudson's red car scene where she's speeding through the highway and I thought it was the funniest scene in the whole season.

---

Your POV

"Christ Ms. Hudson, please slow down!" I yell, clutching onto the top of the roof of the red car that I would never have guessed belonged to Ms. Hudson. "The police are chasing us! In choppers!"

"Please, deary, would you shut up? I can see the choppers and police cars I'm not bloody blind!"

"Yeah, but don't you think it would be nice if you attempted to slow down a bit?"

"Of course not, deary. I'm not a civilian!" And with that she changes gears and slams on the gas, making the car lurch forwards, throwing me and probably Sherlock against the back wall of the car. I groan, but I screw my eyes shut and try to think of anything else that would suppress me from my agonizing want to jump out of the car right now. How this all happened.

But my thoughts are interrupted as the car comes to a screeching halt, nearly throwing me through the windshield as I try to get my breathing to return to normal. Ms. Hudson, without even throwing me a second glance, gets out of the car. As soon as I see John, I do as well, getting out of the car and staring at John for a quick moment before walking around it. He links eyes with me for a second before turning his attention back to Ms. Hudson, who has just handed her phone to the police officer that was chasing us in his car. 

"Look at the state of you! Mrs H, what have you been doing?!" He yells towards Ms. Hudson, then takes a quick glance towards me, and I give him a tight-lipped smile. John and I hadn't talked since the death of Mary. And ever since then I fell into a deep dark hole of depression, at this point unable to get out it. My best friend was gone, my boyfriend was buried deep in a pile of drugs, unable to get out of that at this point in his addiction. He didn't return the smile, making tears well up in my eyes. So he really did blame me to...

He grimaced a bit after not smiling back, but decided to ignore it as he turned his attention back to Ms. Hudson, and back to Ms. Hudson's car. "It's Sherlock! You've no idea what I've been through." I slowly start to walk up to them as Ms. Hudson pulls him in for a hug, which he awkwardly returns. He was asking the same question as I was. 

How did we get to this point? 

--- BEFORE ---

Actually, these were the fun part about seeing Sherlock on drugs, the fact that he went absolutely bat shit crazy during the times of his high. It was always a show - even though it put some people in danger - and I always brought popcorn. I sat on the chair watching Sherlock intently as he ran around the room yelling Shakespeare and pumping his long-muzzled pistol in his right hand. He charges from the kitchen into the living room, a blue dressing gown over his black shirt and trousers, his hair greasy.

"Where is it?!"

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends..." He spins around in the living room, his pistol towards the sky as he yells loudly and dramatically throughout the entire monologue. "...once more!" Countless photographs of Culverton Smith hung around the room, but at this point I was used to it, even though his face sometimes haunted my dreams at night. They're stuck on the walls, scattered on the tops of every surface they can cover, they're hung with clothing pins on yarn strings along the ceiling.

"Or close the wall up..." He leaps onto the sofa, opening his arms and yelling with gestures as he stares at the pictures above the sofa.

 "...with our English dead!" He turns back and runs in my direction, though without making eye contact with me. I didn't even think he realized I was there. "...set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide." He turns and dramatically kicks the door closed, the pictures shifting with the new angle and seeming to multiply.