The train rumbled as it started forward. I sighed and opened my novel, tucking my legs underneath me. It was around four in the afternoon and Sherlock and I were headed home after our week chasing a murderer in Ireland. Whereas, it was beautiful, I couldn't wait to be home. It was going to be a really long train ride, though, so I was glad I had bought the novel that was currently in my hands. It wasn't like Sherlock was going to be an company, seeing as he was already absorbed in his mind palace and most likely wouldn't be coming out anytime soon. I turned the page and began reading, listening to the soft breathing of the man opposite me. He was extremely pleased that we got the compartment to ourselves, saying something about not being disturbed by others thinking. I had laughed at that, apparently I didn't think. Or, at least, my thoughts weren't annoying. I shifted in my seat and brought my attention back to the book.
That lasted for maybe a hour, then I got bored. Chapter 6 the case of the unrequited love. Who wrote these things, anyway? I sighed and threw it onto the bench next to me. I glanced up at Sherlock, who still had his fingers steepled and eyes shut. He was sprawled across the opposite bench, belstaff draped over the seat. He had left the large coat, as well as his signature scarf, on for the past hour. How he did it, I would never know. I was in my light green sweater and a pair of jeans and I somehow managed to be warm. I got up and sat down next to him, hoping to snap him out of his day dreams. Didnt work. I squinted my eyes slightly and stuck my tongue out at him. "Do you want something?" Sherlock suddenly asked, causing me to jump.
He opened an eye and looked at me. I bit my lip and looked down at my hands. "I was bored..." I mumbled, sheepishly. I was twenty six years old and I got so bored I started making faces at my boyfriend! How shameful. Sherlock started laughing. "Bored? What happened to the novel you brought with. You could not have finished it already!" He said, his deep voice sounding lovely to my ears. "It's boring." I pouted, then stopped. I sounded just like he did when he was bored! I started giggling too. "Jess, you are one of a kind." Sherlock shook his head playfully. "Normally I would be mad that you disrupted my train of thought, but I am not. I figured it out, anyway. Boring." Sherlock continued, smiling.
"Mmm, and how, Holmes the great detective, did they manage to bury a man, in the park, during the day?" I asked, wiggling closer to him and putting my head on his shoulder. He tucked his knees to his chin and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Simple, really. I do not feel like explaining just yet, I must speak to Lestrade first." I sighed, stupid confidentiality agreements. "I am feeling the pangs of hunger and exhaustion, now. This has been a reasonably long case, seeing as we had to go all the way to Glasgow just to catch the murderer. What is today?" He asked, looking down at me. "Friday." I answered, closing my eyes and snuggling up to him even more. "Hmm, it appears to have five days since I last ate and two since I have slept for more than a hour at a time." Sherlock said, sounding a little surprised. My mouth dropped open. "Sherlock! You must take better care of yourself than that!" I exclaimed, smacking him lightly on the chest, which he scowled at.
"I'm fine. I just think I might sleep the way back, though. Has the conductor came by, yet?" I nodded. Sherlock stood up and slid me to the end of the bench, to my surprise. He then proceeded to lay down and set his head in my lap. "May I sleep here?" He asked, already curled up. I rolled my eyes and nodded. "As if I had a choice." I mumbled, earning a mischievous grin from my handsome love. "Mm, g'night, Jess." He slurred, his breathing already slowing. I smiled, love washing over me. "Goodnight, Sherlock." I replied.