BBC Sherlock x Reader Oneshots

Rarely So Lazy...

Sherlock Holmes x Reader

((The picture above is the writing prompt!! I twisted it a little though, hope you enjoy it! 😊😀))

The sun peeking through my white lace curtains woke me from a light sleep. I stretched my arms over my head as I sat up from the (s/f/c) comforter, a yawn escaping from my mouth. A blissful smile settled on my face as I leapt from my bed heading to the bathroom for my morning shower. I was excited because there was a new Art Museum opening a few blocks away from my flat.

Wrapping the fluffy blue towel around my (Slim/plump/hour glass) figure I look at my refection impassively. 'Should I dress up today? Might meet someone cute at the opening...' I pondered to myself. After a moment's thought I nodded with a determined smile on my face. 'I think it's worth a shot!' I skipped back into my room and headed straight for my light wooded wardrobe.

Opening the first drawer I dug around looking for undergarments I'm willing to wear today. After a minute or two of debating, I decided on my (silk/lace) (f/c) panties with a matching (f/c) bra.

Since that was settled I walked over to my closet to look for something to wear. After about five minutes I had the perfect outfit pulled from the closet. It was a beautiful (f/c) dress that had a tight fitting top and the skirt flowed out to my knees, the under skirt was a light/dark (s/f/c). The sleeves went down mid fore arm and showed a modest amount of cleavage. To go with that I will wear black heeled boots that go up a little higher then my ankle.

After getting dressed I felt confident, but something was missing... The makeup! I wondered back into the bathroom and pulled out what I needed. I went ahead and put a (natural/classy/full face/etc) makeup look on to complete the look. Peering into the glass I noticed something was still missing. Doing my hair will finish the look. Taking the time I needed I (curled/put up/braided/brushed/etc) my hair.

I smiled into the mirror, my look was finally complete! It only took me ten minutes to get dressed and another twenty minutes to do my makeup and hair!

My face fell for a moment as I thought 'This is why I never dress up,' but my cheeky smile was soon back on my face, 'But, damn! It's so worth it after I do!' laughing to myself I exit the bathroom, into the living room. I look around for a moment trying to see if I needed to bring anything with me.

"I'm probably going to be taking a taxi, so I need my purse... " I mumbled to myself picking up my small black handbag. It was only big enough to hold my wallet and keys. Thank God because if it were bigger than that I'm afraid I'd try to stick the whole world into the poor thing.

Taking one more glance around the room I double checked if I was forgetting anything. Once I was sure I wasn't I finally left my flat. It was a surprisingly warm day in London this morning, I smiled at that fact. I locked my door and began walking down the street. Once I got on a main road I flagged down a taxi and climbed in.

"Where you headed, hot stuff?" a man with a think Scottish accent asked, looking threw the rearview mirror.

"To the new art museum, please." I forced myself to smile.

"Sure thing, honey." he replied.

The rest of the ride was quiet, I'm glad he didn't try to make small talk. Before I knew it we were parked in front of a beautiful building that was at least four story's high. I got out of the cab and the driver rolled down his window for his payment, I'm assuming. I gave him the money I owed him and hurried up the small steps to the doors. The doors were huge and made out of a bullet proof glass. I pushed open the door and stepped into the Victorian themed building. The familiarity of it all had me in awe. There were crowds of fifteen maybe twenty people in front of art works here and there. Slowly I wondered further into the beautiful building, taking in the calming atmosphere of the art works.

I wondered aimlessly through the first and second floor making sure I've seen everything. I came to a staircase I don't remember seeing, looking around I bit my lip as I wondered up the stairs. Something about the aura in the air exited me, the more I elevated into the next floor the wider my grin became. Once I reached the last step I was relieved to see people up here too.

There was a large group of people surrounding one particular portrait. Without thinking I went over to it, politely getting through the crowd I gasped at what I saw. 'I thought it was burned in the fire' I stared at a mirror image of me bug-eyed.

"Hey, lady! Can I get a picture of you and the painting? It's for the news paper! " I woman asked hopefully. "I think London would absolutely love seeing such a beautiful doppelganger!" she added, trying to encourage me into doing it.

A nervous smile found its way on my face, "Um, sure if you would like... " I went where the photographer guided me to be. After a miniature photoshoot the lady thanked me and wondered off back into the crowed.

I heard whispers of conversations around me about the "cool coincidence" it didn't matter to me though, let people talk. After a minute of standing alone I felt another's presents beside me. I took a quick glance at him from the corner of my eye. My (e/c) eyes widened when I saw his familiar brown curls. 'Could it be?' I felt tears stinging my eyes. I forced myself to look away. 'No, he died in the fire along side everything else I tried to tell myself.

But the way his turquoise eyes focused on the painting of me, they held a unrecognizable emotion. I couldn't help but to turn to face him, but it seemed he hadn't noticed me staring at him.

"William?" I whispered, barley audible. His eyes shifted over to me as he raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, his voice was deeper than I remembered.

I wanted to say 'Well, I am your wife you know, I think I should know your name!' but I remembered he wasn't my beloved late husband. A small,sad smile formed on my (s/t) face.

"I've read about you in the paper.. " it wasn't a full lie, I was fully aware of the famous 'Sherlock Holmes' I just never got a good look at his face until now. "I just hardly recognized you without your hat." I faked a cheerful laugh, but I could see that he saw through me.

"By your behavior, I remind you of someone who has passed that you loved dearly. Probably a brother or friend but I'd say it was a brother because you tried to cover up your sadness with a painfully obvious fake laugh. You think it was your fault that he died and live with that burden on your chest. By the way your dressed this all happened a while ago, you've had time to cope with your loss and your trying to forget about him..." he held his chin as his eyes flew over my body. "By your chewed nails and broken nail polish you're a recovering alcoholic or drug addict, maybe even from self-harm. Did I get anything wrong? " he asked looking me in the eyes. I wiped away the tears before they were able to fall, a smile on my face.

"My, you sound just like him... Yes you got one very important thing wrong. He wasn't a friend or brother. He was my husband. And I would never want to forget about him. " his eyes widened but quickly went back to normal.

"Husband? You can't be older than 20." he stated. I laugh ripped through my throat.

"Yes, but I loved him. He saved my life from a fire, taking his own in the process." I told him, thinking about my late husband. "He was exactly like you, he solved murders for fun too." I smiled at the thought.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Sherlock said awkwardly.

"Don't be, this happened years ago. " I turned to face the painting one last time.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes still on me. I smiled and handed him a card with my number on it.

"I'd like you to help me solve his murder, Sherlock. Think about it?" I smiled and walked away from him before he could answer.

His eyes shifted back to the painting looking at the golden plack below the portrait. 'The universe is rarely so lazy...' he thought to himself slipping the neatly written number into his coats pocket.