I came home from a long day a Barts. As soon as I got home, I immediately went to the kitchen where I poured myself a generous amount of my favorite mascato. I walked over to the couch to watch crap telly.
I jump, nearly spilling the wine. Sherlock is laying on the couch laying in his thinking position with his fingers forming a pyramid under his chin.
"Sherlock!" I say.
"Yes"
"What are you doing?"
"Thinking, now leave me alone"
"Sherlock..." I saw again, this time in a more scolding tone.
"What?!?!"
"What are you doing?"
"As I told you before; thinking. Do you mind?"
"I mean what are you doing in my flat?!?!" I ask hoping to be more clear.
"Oh that, yes, um.... I require a place to stay and as John believes I'm dead, I cannot go back to 221B."
"So why are you here?" I ask. "Mycroft knows you are alive, too."
"Yes," He says. "But Mycroft is a rather bad flatmate."
"But I only have one room!"
"Yes, I know. I rarely sleep, but when I do the couch will suit me nicely."
"Fine" I give up, I mean, it's Sherlock we're talking about.
"Go to your room." Sherlock says.
"Excuse me?" Why does he think he can just move in and start bossing me around? Well, it is Sherlock.
"Go watch crap telly in your room. I'm thinking."
"How do you know I have a television in my room?" I ask fearfully.
"I was here all day and I got bored. I decided to look around."
Fine, I think. I pick my glass up from the coffee table, still cross at him. I think to myself that I should be happy, after all, I had been smitten from the moment I saw him three years ago.
YOU ARE READING
Sherlolly
FanfictionA/N: This is my first fanfic I've wrote. The Sherlolly part doesn't really come until Chapter 10, but please stick it out and give it a try. I try to update often, but it doesn't always happen. I'll try to make the chapters longer, they seem longer...
