BBC SherlockxReader

Favorites (SherlockxReader)

"So this man is innocent, and was framed by his brother so that he would be sent to prison?" John asked Sherlock, making sure he understood correctly.

"Yes, it's very obvious," Sherlock said as he began playing a slow tune on his violin.

"That's terrible," John stated, "doing that to your own brother."

"His brother was probably the favorite," you replied from Sherlock's chair, taking a bite of an apple Mrs. Hudson had given you earlier.

"Favorite? What does that have to do with anything?" Sherlock remarked.

"Well everyone has favorites, whether they admit it or not," you replied. "And that favoritism often leads to jealously, especially when one comes from a rich family like that man did."

"Not everyone has favorites," Sherlock scoffed, still playing his violin.

"Yes they do Sherlock," John replied not looking up from the newspaper.

"With that theory, that would mean my parents have a favorite," he stated.

"Yes they do Sherlock and it's you," you said looking up at him.

"How could you possibly know that?" he asked.

"You're the youngest Sherlock, of course you're the favorite."

"What about John's family then?"

"Oh he's definitely the favorite," you answered.

"Why?"

"Because he's the son."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Sons are always favored over daughters, Sherlock. You know that."

"Is that true John? Are you the favorite and are sons preferred over daughters?" he asked, turning to look at John.

"Yes, and usually."

"What about you (y/n)?" Sherlock said, turning to you.

"I was raised by very distant relatives who had a daughter of their own. I was by no means the favorite," you replied nonchalantly. Looking down at your phone, you missed the hurt look that flashed across Sherlock's face.

"Who's John's favorite?" he asked when you put your phone down.

"Sarah," you replied.

"It's true," John remarked, smiling as he reached for his cup of tea. "I do love that woman."

"And (y/n)'s?"

"Molly," John answered.

"Molly Hooper?" Sherlock said skeptically.

"Sherlock how could you not notice? They meet up almost every other day and are constantly texting each other. They're best friends," John explained.

"Yup, we've even got the bracelets to prove it," you replied, raising your arm so Sherlock could see the purple braided friendship bracelet on your wrist. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned away from you, only to turn back to you instantly.

"Before you ask," you said interrupting him before he could start talking, "Out of the three of us John is Lestrade's favorite, your Mycroft's and Irene's, I'm Mrs. Hudson's, and everyone knows you favor yourself." Sherlock seemed satisfied with your answers and went back to playing his violin.

At some point John had wandered off to his room, leaving Sherlock alone with you. You were curled up in Sherlock's chair, having fallen asleep while you were watching him play. Sherlock took this time to think about what you and John had told him. Looking at you sleeping, he realized that maybe he wasn't his own favorite. From what you and John had told him, your favorite person was whoever you liked being around the most. Sherlock thought about it and he liked being around you best. You didn't get annoyed with his deductions and never bothered him when he was in his mind palace. You didn't get mad at him when he didn't sleep because you didn't like sleeping either and only slept for a couple hours at a time. You went along with his experiments, no matter how ridiculous, and often gave him ideas for new ones. He had in fact noticed all the time you spent with Molly. It was the only thing that really bothered him about you because that meant less time that you were at the flat. All these thoughts passed through Sherlock's mind and he furrowed his brows in confusion. Since when did he like company so much?

Sherlock was still playing his violin when John emerged from his room some time later.

"Sherlock I'm gonna be heading out now. Try not to burn the flat down while I'm gone."

"No promises," he replied.

"John, where are you going?" you mumbled, having woken up when you heard his voice.

"Just going out with Sarah. Keep an eye on him will you?" he said pulling on his jacket.

"As always," you said drowsily, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake up.

"Good. I'll see you both tonight then," he replied as he walked out the door. After you were completely awake, you realized how hungry you were. You stood up and went to retrieve your wallet from the kitchen.

"Whatever you're getting, bring me back some too," Sherlock called to you as he put his violin away.

"Alright. I hope you're in the mood for fries," you replied.

"They're called chips (y/n)."

"I'm gonna chip your face," you said as you counted what money was in your wallet.

"Oh really? With what exactly?" he said as you walked past him to grab your jacket.

"With my fist of freedom," you stated as you walked down the stairs, the sounds of Sherlock's laughter following after you.

"Mrs. Hudson, I'm bringing back dinner so don't eat anything while I'm away!" you called as you made it down the steps. You were about to open the front door when a hand pressed it close.

"Sherlock, if you don't want fries I'll get you something else," you huffed.

"No it's not about that. Just come here," he said, turning you to face him. He then put his scarf around your neck, fixing the blue fabric the same way he wore it.

"What's this for?" you asked when he was finished.

"To show that you're my favorite. You have Molly's bracelet, and I wanted you to have something of mine."

"Sherlock," you said smiling up at him.

"And I know Molly's not your true favorite," he said.

"Then who is?"

"Me, obviously," he said smirking.

"And how do you know that?"

"From the way you look at me when you think I can't see you. And the way you're looking at me now. The proofs all...there," he said gesturing to your face.

"That obvious huh?" you said with a slight laugh.

"That obvious."

"Well, I should have known I couldn't keep it hidden from you for very long," you said poking him in the chest. "Thank you for letting me wear your scarf," you said, standing on your tippy toes to peck him on the cheek. "Now if you don't mind, I'm off to get some fries."

"Chips (y/n) chi—aagh!" he yelled, cutting off when you fist connected with his jaw.

"I told you Holmes, fist of freedom," you said walking out the door. Sherlock rubbed his jaw and smiled, confident he'd made the right choice in choosing his favorite.