I Bloody Love Nettles – A Sherlock Fanfiction
Disclaimer: I don't own the Sherlock Holmes series, its associated content or the soul of anyone involved in the making of the tv show that inspired this.
Dedicated to my new friends on Ravelry, who have been so nice and welcoming. =)
We were having dinner. Just Sherlock and me, eating at a Chinese restaurant, for free, since Sherlock had apparently got the owner off a nasty ABH charge.
Earlier on that day we had been chasing a suspect across some waste land. I had run straight through a knee high patch of nettles and my leg was itching like mad. I couldn't concentrate on my food for the damn itching, so I surreptitiously scratched my leg against the table leg. It was very effective and I managed to assuage the itch in time to eat my (now cold) mixed vegetable chow mein.
I noticed as I was eating that Sherlock was sending me a few inquisitive looks; then, just after we'd ordered dessert, my leg started to itch again. And once again I made use of the very helpful table leg. When I looked back up at Sherlock, his face had gone back to his usual expression of condescending comprehension, so I just wrote it off as Sherlock being Sherlock. Probably trying to work out what I got for my sixteenth birthday or something. We finished our meal and left the restaurant in companionable silence.
It was a fine summer's night, so we decided to walk back to the flat. Especially since the last time we took a cab, I ended treating Sherlock for a black eye and a split lip. But that's a story for another time. The walk took us about twenty minutes, punctuated by Sherlock's occasional asides about fellow pedestrians.
Mrs. Hudson was out when we got back, so we made our way upstairs unhindered by questions about our evening.
When we went into the flat, I headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on. As I was reaching up to grab a new box of teabags, I got the shock of my life. Sherlock grabbed my shoulders, spun me round and kissed me. Actually, screw that. Reader, he snogged me.
And reader? I damn well snogged him back.
When we finally pulled back for air, I somehow managed to splutter out a sentence.
"Not that I'm complaining, but what the hell was that for?"
He looked rather incredulously at me for a full ninety seconds then spoke.
"I was following your lead."
"What lead?"
"At the restaurant, you were rubbing my leg all throughout the meal."
It was at that moment that I realised why that bloody 'table leg' had been so comfy to use.
"Watson, would you kindly stop impersonating a goldfish?"
I was caught between laughing or snogging him senseless. Thankfully, I chose the latter. And I'm sure you can guess how we spent the rest of our evening.
When I woke in the small hours of the morning, I paused to reflect on two things I never thought I'd think.
Number one: everything happens for a reason.
And number two:... I bloody love nettles.
A.N. =D I really like this. Though I wrote it at 2AM so if it doesn't make sense or if there are any mistakes, I'm gonna blame it on that. I've rediscovered my fanfiction mojo, after a massive bout of writers block caused by my cat dying, a severely depressed close relative and taking my English GCSE. Nothing spoils writing like trying to follow the rules. Anyway, hope you liked it. Please R&R. I've got the thing about the taxi written out by the way, in case anyone wants me to upload that. Oh, and ABH stands for Actual Bodily Harm, in case anyone wasn't familiar with the term.
