“Ugh why are you here?” she said looking at Sherlock.
“Lestrade wanted me to solve a case, seeing as you were obviously no help with it,” Sherlock said with a smirk.
“Well we can’t all be psychopaths now can we? Besides you aren’t as important as you think really. You’re just Lestrade’s pet freak,” she said harshly. There was that word again. Freak. You hated when she called Sherlock that, the way she spat the word at him with such malice and hate.
“You know Sally,” you said releasing Sherlock’s hand and stepping in front of h
“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.
“You’ve already eaten half the tub, love. It’s bad for you.”
You let out a pathetic whine, “Johhnn.”
Your brother didn’t even look up from his computer, “Give her back the ice cream, Sherlock.”
“You know as well as I do that that much sugar is not good for a person’s system, she-“
He cut Sherlock off, looking up with an entirely unamused expression, “Just give it back.”
John opened his mouth to respond but caught a glimpse of you and let out a heavy sigh, shooting Sherlock a glare as he moved to crouch in front of you. You’d started to
You lugged the shopping bags with you until you finally reached the flat that you shared with your best friend John and his roommate, Sherlock. You’d been living with them for about 2 months now and you were never bored with the antics that were going on.
‘Thank god you’re back (y/n), I need to go out. Anywhere but here, just make sure he doesn’t blow the place up or something,’ John sighed as he indicated to Sherlock who was lying on the sofa curled up and facing the back of it. John threw his coat on, kissed your cheek and ran out the door before you could even speak.
You sighed and began to move into the kitchen with your shopping. For once there were no experiments or body parts in the kitchen. When you emerged minutes later, Sherlock was still sulking on the sofa.
‘What was that all about?’ you asked quietly, sitting down in Sherlock’s chair. He shifted slight
You had disappeared to the bathroom to be sick for the third time today, covering your mouth and running before you had the chance to be sick all over the lovely clean carpet that Mrs Hudson just finished cleaning.
There could only be two possibilities as to why you were vomiting so much; one, mother nature was deciding to be a bitch as per usual. Or two, you were pregnant.
And you were hoping it was the first option.
Not that you wouldn't be happy that you were pregnant, with Sherlock's child of all things.
You just didn't feel like you were ready to bring a child into this world, you weren't even sure if Sherlock even wanted to bring a child into this strange yet wonderful world.
You weren't sure if Sherlock even liked children for that matter.
You threw your head into the toilet allowing whatever you had for breakfast this morning return.
You were thankful that your hair was in a loose bun.
"(Y/N)? Are you okay?" John asked, standing my