Sherlock Imagines and One shots

Reunion (Sherlock)

  You walked into your new flat in London, dragging the last box up the stairs and into your home. 221A Baker Street. The landlady, Mrs. Hudson, was very sweet, and the building was in good condition. You hadn't met or even seen your new neighbors yet, so you planned on doing so after supper.

  You set the box down with the others that need to be unpacked, and decided now would be a good time for a break and a bite to eat. You walk back down the stairs and out the door. Turning right, you walk into the building next door, 'Speedy's Sandwich Bar and Cafe'. You order a sandwich and sit down in a booth.

  "Y/N?" you hear a deep voice from behind you say.

  "Yes?" you answer, turning to see a tall man behind you. He has lovely bright eyes, dark curly hair and a big smile on his face. He seemed familiar to you...

  "Y/N, it is you!" he grinned. His dimples appeared and you suddenly recognized him.

  "Sherlock Holmes, is that you?!" you beamed up at him. You and Sherlock were best friends as children, both of you a bit socially awkward, you instantly bonded.

  His smile widened. "Mind if I sit with you?" he asks.

  "Oh, of course. Go ahead," you reply. "Gosh, how long has it been?" you ask.

  "Seventeen years," he answers, sitting in the booth across from you. "I believe it was January of nineteen-ninety-five. I was sixteen, you were fifteen. It was the day after that God awful birthday party my parents threw for me," he continues.

  "It wasn't that bad," you chuckle. "Although, Mycroft's present was a bit disturbing. The book 'One Thousand Ways to Die at Sea', I recall," you add.

  "Actually that ended up being one of my favorite books," he says. "It's actually helped a lot with solving cases."

  "Oh, right. You're a famous detective now, aren't you?"

  "Consulting detective for Scotland Yard. I do my own private jobs as well, taking cases from clients," he explains. "You're a writer now, correct?"

  "Yes, actually. I write--"

  "Childrens novels, I know," he interrupts.

  "Don't try to deduce me, Mr. Holmes."

  "Too late," he says, grinning. "So, you've recently moved to London, yes?"

  "Right next door, actually. 221A Baker Street."

  "So I guess we're going to be neighbors. I live in 221B," he explains.

  "Wonderful," you say, smiling back at him.

  After you've both finished eating, you walk back into your flat. Sherlock walked behind you, up the stairs and followed you through your door.

  "Would you like help unpacking?"

  "Yes, that'd be nice. Thank you, Sherlock."

  Over the next few weeks, you had quickly reconnected with Sherlock, and had become good friends with his flatmate, Doctor John Watson. Unexpectedly for you, your feelings for the dashing detective found their way back. You had always had a bit of a crush on Sherlock growing up, but you had never told him. At first you tried to ignore or deny these feelings, but you knew it was no use. You also knew that even if Sherlock knew, it wouldn't matter, because he could never reciprocate your love for him.

  You were eating out for diner, when you received a call from a sobbing Doctor Watson. He sounded like he couldn't breathe and he was definitely crying.