He did not know I was coming back, not even his brother knew. I had gotten my third degree; in linguistics. My first two were in History and Sociology. I had left for France to get my masters and doctorate degrees in linguistics. All three are now in the highest degrees I can get at the moment, all doctorates. I stayed in France for three years, only coming back for breaks. I knock on the door, and stand back. The person that opens it is not Mrs. H. but a small male. "Are you here for Sherlock?"
"Just send them away," I hear Sherlock say. I smirk and walk past the small man, missing the noisy steps. I look in to see the living room to see Sherlock, looking out the window and facing away from me. I walk very quietly and quickly to Sherlock's room. "Sherlock where did he go?" I hear the small man say.
"What are you talking about, John." Oh, that is the small man's name; John. I quickly lay my bag on Sherlock's desk chair, lie down on Sherlock's bed, and close my eyes. My bags should be arriving at his big brothers house very soon. "He wha…" Sherlock's phone bings.
"Lex." He says breathlessly. He comes running, and I snuggle more into his blanket and pillow. The door slams open, "Alexander." He jumps on me.
"Hello, love." I kiss him and he kisses back. My arms wrap around his neck and he puts his arms around my waist. Sherlock flips us so that he is under me, and I'm resting on top of him. I'm shorter than him, my head when we are standing comes to his heart, so when we are lying down I have to stretch up a bit too kiss him. I pull back, and comfortably rest my head on his heart. His hand rests on my back, rubbing it. We release a sigh of relief to be back together.
"Sherlock what is going on?" I look over at John. Sherlock is playing with my curly dark brown hair that stops just under my shoulder.
"Hey. I'm Alexander Shadelight, Sherlock's fiancée." John does nothing but stare at us.
I turn my head to look at Sherlock, resting my chin on his chest. "I think I broke your friend," I said to him, just staring at his face; I have missed him greatly.
"I believe you have," he said back, happily.
Then there was this rush of steps coming up the stairs and Mycroft appeared in the doorway. He closes Sherlock's door behind him.
"Alex, you're finally back," Mycroft says in relief, moving my bag onto the floor and sitting in the chair. "Now you can deal with him, he was just about to get very bored. I have nothing for him to do right now."
"Oh really?" I ask Sherlock, fixing an amused eye on him.
"Yes, you have no idea how bored I have gotten. You are the most interesting thing to happen today, and the last two months."
"Hey!" John said finally breaking out of his shock. "How am I just now learning about him?!"
"Alex is a childhood friend of Sherlock's… that somehow stayed his friend." Mycroft said. Sherlock's arm tightens around me, holding me closer, and I snugged more into him in order to comfort him. "He was the only one that could keep up with him; that was close to his age."
I thought about our past. I met Sherlock when we were both in a private school. We met in 7th grade, both the youngest in our class, I was nine and he was ten. If one of us skipped a grade the other one followed. We graduated at twelve and thirteen. Then we went to university, where we both worked for our first doctorate degrees. We were each other's first in everything (we have not told anyone that we are no longer virgins, we wanted to keep that to ourselves, so we keep up the act of still being innocent). When we got our first doctorates at sixteen and seventeen was when we finally told everyone we were dating. Now we are twenty-two and twenty-three, I have three doctorates, Sherlock has four degrees, we are engaged, and we are still successfully fooling everyone into thinking we are virgins.
Then someone's phone goes off; John gives his phone to Sherlock. "Looks like someone gave a box to the police with my name on it," my fiancée drawls. I get up from Sherlock, and stand next to Mycroft. Sherlock pouts but then his mask slides back on.
