Hi, everyone. I'm finally posting another short fic! This time it'll be a multi-chapter, Sherlock/OC fic. You could say that this is a bit of an AU since I've added an OC and we're waiting for season four, which premieres January 1st, 2017 if you didn't already know. I do not own any recognizable characters, locations, etc. I only own my original characters and their stories. No copyright infringement is intended. Happy reading and happy Nanowrimo to all the writers participating!
221B Baker Street
"Well...that was interesting and slightly awkward," Zoe said standing in the middle of the room.
"Just as tedious as I expected. Now I'll have to deal with my mother," Sherlock said with a deep frown as he sank into his chair.
"Will it really be that bad?" she asked, raising an eyebrow when he threw his arms in the air in frustration in response.
"It's always that bad. Mycroft can never make things simple for me. He's probably told the woman we're engaged or you're pregnant. She may very well be on her way here and planning our wedding already," he said.
Zoe's eyes widened. "Oh."
Two Months Earlier
Zoe groaned as she stretched and her right shoulder popped. She was already regretting the yoga class she had gone to the previous afternoon. With a sigh, she closed her eyes hoping to grab a few more minutes of sleep. She quickly realized that was apparently not a part of the plan for the day as slender fingers brushed a few strands of curly hair from her face. She frowned when she realized her scarf had not stayed on through the night.
"Morning," Sherlock said when she swatted at his hand.
Her eyebrows knitted together before she slowly opened her eyes again. "Morning."
Sherlock held back a smirk at her grumbled response, knowing it would do him no favors. He didn't expect her to be very happy this morning after their plans had been interrupted. Instead of a nice Friday night in after a long week, she was stuck hiding out in his room for over an hour. He took in the sight of her a royal blue, silk nightgown and the black and white, polka-dotted, fuzzy socks that poked out from her tangled side of the bed. By the slight pout of her lip, the mild irritation in her eyes and the way her shoulder had popped he knew she was sore, hungry, and annoyed; the last one enhanced by her scarf-less head.
I should expect a complaint about it later as she comes up with a last minute fix, he thought to himself.
"Sorry I fell asleep last night," she said.
"Sorry the evening was interrupted in the first place," he said with a frown.
"Sherlock, you know there's no way we're going to keep this a secret for much longer if we don't tread a little more carefully," Zoe said with a huff as she thought about the events of last night. She didn't want to sound like she was nagging first thing in the morning, but it was at the forefront of her mind at the moment.
The detective huffed in return and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into the pillow beneath him. He spoke, but his words were muffled.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head with a small smile at his behavior. "What was that?" she asked teasingly as she sat up and gently straddled his back.
He turned his head to the side. "I said, I'm being as careful as possible; deleting text messages, not looking too happy around anyone, and not asking John for relationship advice. Last night was unintentional. John was supposed to be taking Mary to finally meet his sister. Who would have guessed he'd stop by first?"
Sherlock was in the midst of vehemently explaining to Zoe why he didn't want to watch the latest James Bond film when he heard a knock on the door downstairs followed by Mrs. Hudson's foot falls. He walked closer to his own front door and fell silent to listen in.
"Oh, hello John, Mary. I wasn't expecting you to stop by this evening. I would have made some things to eat," the landlady said in surprise.
Sherlock groaned and turned back to Zoe, who was just getting comfortable on the sofa; her favorite lavender plush blanket wrapped around herself.
"What is it?" she asked.
"John and Mary are here," he said.
He would have been mildly amused at the way her eyes widened, but his frustration directed towards his friend soured his mood.
"Crap!" Zoe said as she hopped up from the sofa, nearly tumbling over as the blanket wrapped around her legs. "A little help here!" she hissed lowly.
Sherlock quickly helped her untangle herself while grabbing her shoes and her purse. "You'll just have to wait in my room until they leave. They have plans tonight so it shouldn't be long."
"Sherlock, John and Mary are here!" Mrs. Hudson called up.
As John and Mary began their trek up the stairs, slowly due to Mary's condition, Zoe quickly made her way into Sherlock's room dragging the blanket behind her. Before he closed the door, she gave him a half-hearted smile and plopped onto his bed.
"Sherlock?" John called from the entryway.
"No Harry's tonight?" Zoe heard Sherlock ask as he re-entered the main room.
"No, we're going. I- I just...if I'm being honest, I'm a little nervous," John said.
"And for some reason, he thought you'd be the best person to talk to about it," Mary chimed in.
"Well, he can give me a heads-up about what to expect. He knew last time when she was back on the bottle," John said trying to justify his reasoning.
Zoe sighed deeply and pulled her laptop and a pair of headphones from her bag as quietly as possible. 'Netflix it is.'
When John and Mary finally left Sherlock went back to his room hoping to continue his evening, only to find Zoe tucked into the duvet, the glow of her laptop screen falling across her face as she slept. He wanted to be annoyed but considered the long week she had dealing with one of her editors and his ego.
'I wonder what would be a fun way to knock the man down a few pegs,' he thought. He sighed heavily and walked around the bed. As gently as possible, he pulled the headphones from her ears and picked up her laptop. He made sure to pause her current episode of Grey's Anatomy before shutting the device down.
With one last glance, he left the room to conduct some experiments that had been on his to-do list in the kitchen.
Zoe began to lightly brush her fingers up his spine, goosebumps raising at the contact. "I think you were so into your courtroom level argument about the movie that you didn't feel your phone vibrate. And what do you need advice for, Mr. Holmes? I think you've done quite well those far," she said.
"The trip to the cinema last week for starters; It's what most people do as a date and our attempt ended terribly," he said.
She frowned at the disappointment that laced Sherlock's voice. Although he tried to hide it, she knew he was partially embarrassed and hated the vulnerable state that came with explaining his self-doubts. All this, the close contact, taking her out on actual dates, and spending time with her, was still new for him and he had been trying so hard to act like he was just any other man. A man who could woo her with romantic gestures and try things that seemed to be out of the movies. He could be that man but it would not be true to who he was and they both knew it. His letters and messages during his absence from London had won her heart, but he seemed to forget that bit. She valued his words far more than gestures. Although he struggled at times with verbally explaining his emotions, the letters written between the pair had given him the chance to express himself without the urgency of having her standing in front of him waiting for an answer.
"You're not most people. Which is something you often reiterate aloud. I enjoy you for you, Sherlock. If I wanted a regular Joe shmoe, I wouldn't be here with you. You saw how little fuss I made about the cinema. If anything, I had a good laugh at your deductions. Who knew you could tell so much about someone based on the back of their head in a dark theatre?"
Zoe leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his pale shoulder blade. He was silent until she spoke again.
"You need some sun."
He scoffed. "As if I'll ever get enough of that in London."
"We could always take a trip somewhere warm," she said rolling off of his back and snuggling herself into his right side, under the duvet. She didn't understand how he had gone to bed without a shirt in this weather. 221B was a bit chilly on this February morning so she was happy Sherlock was in a snuggling mood. At times, he wasn't a fan of the close contact.
"Remember Madrid?"
"You mean when you were pretending to be dead and I was dragged momentarily into one of your plots? That was over a year ago and it wasn't even a trip we took together. We just happened to be in the same city at the same time. I vote for somewhere else, " she said poking him in the side.
He jerked away slightly and huffed. "You loved Madrid. You wouldn't stop talking about going back in your letters," he grumbled.
"And when I do I want to spend more time seeing other sites, relax in a bikini and not in art museums, although they were amazing. Doubt you'd be complaining then," she said, a teasing tone in her voice.
He rolled his eyes at her. "How mature," he said.
She stuck her tongue out, forgetting momentarily that she was pressed so closely against him. The result was Zoe giggling when her tongue touched his arm and came to the realization of what had just happened. Sherlock's confused face made her laugh harder.
"Did you just lick me?" he said frowning.
She waited until her giggles subsided to speak. "Not intentionally. I was trying to stick my tongue out at you, but your arm got in the way."
"Got in the way? As if I'm the one who chose this position," he said, "And you've proven me right. Your maturity level is questionable."
"Whatever will you do with me, Mr. Holmes?" she said grinning at him.
Sherlock opened his mouth to tell her about all the germs that resided on the human body but was cut off by the ringing of his phone. He glared at the device before reaching across her to retrieve it from the bedside table.
"What is it?" he said answering the phone. She almost swatted him for his rudeness but knew it wouldn't change anything.
Zoe watched as his eyes lit up and couldn't help it when her mischievous grin melted into a soft smile. She was always fascinated with how excited he got about his work. She loved writing for magazines and other publications, but she didn't always light up at the thought of a new project. Sometimes she even passed on stories. There were moments when the subject matter of an article was so heavy that she wasn't sure she could take on another one so quickly afterward. It was a part of journalism, which could explain why that wasn't her main occupation.
She was known for her prose as a published author, but more recently her journalism; her pieces covering a variety of topics from drug epidemics around the world, and immigration to the science of eyeliner and music festival culture. She never felt guilty about passing on projects or felt the need to explain that her brain was stuck on another project, particularly when she was currently in the midst of writing the sequel to her novel and couldn't bring herself to leave the story idle for too long. It seemed at times that most her editors understood when she needed a break to work on her own thing or to mentally recover from a partially tasking piece. She was a novelist first and foremost who had fallen into journalism unintentionally.
"Curious murder near Parliament," he said looking down at her.
"What's so curious about it?" she said, almost regretting asking. Details of cases weren't always pretty or for the faint of heart.
His smile grew at the question. "They've only discovered half of the body. The police are still searching for the other half."
Sherlock's excitement and the gruesome details almost made her cringe.
"What a lovely thing to be excited about," she said patting his cheek. She rolled out from underneath of him and began to pull her toiletry tote from her overnight bag and placing her laptop back inside its sleeve.
He too climbed from the jumble of sheets and blankets. "Your sarcasm is noted."
She chuckled. "Glad you didn't miss it this time. Your brain is so literal at times that it zooms right by you."
Sherlock paused from beginning his search for something to wear and walked to her side of the room where she was now looking for her missing peep toe pump.
"And you and John continue to build my awareness of it," he said wrapping his arms around her waist. He leaned down and spoke softly into her ear. "Your shoe is underneath the bed."
She pivoted in his arms and leaned up to give him a chaste kiss. "Thank you, darling."
After Sherlock had returned to his wardrobe and she was halfway under the bed, she had a thought. "I would like to meet him one day, you know."
He spoke without turning to her. "Who?"
Zoe huffed, grabbed her shoe, and pulled herself into a seated position on the floor. "John, of course."
"Right. He'd make an absolute ruckus. You should have seen him when he thought I was with Janine. Quite comical."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you were laughing at the poor man the entire time."
When the two had showered, separately this morning, and dressed, Zoe left first through the back door of Mrs. Hudson's flat. The landlady was just next door for an early lunch. Sherlock departed five minutes later, texting John, and hailing a cab.
A few hours later, Zoe was lounging in her apartment doing research for her next article, which focused on women in the British government. Her initial correspondence with Lady Smallwood was going well, but she had yet to select the rest of the women she wanted to profile for the piece. If this was going to be a major article she needed a few more interviewees. She had closed her eyes for a moment to take a break when her phone buzzed in the pocket of her.
[SherBear] The other half was in another hotel room on the opposite side of the floor. No blood trail, simply an odor. S.H.
She had changed Sherlock's contact on a night that involved too much Tequila and had found it too funny to return back to normal. Sherlock had flushed and grumbled about stupid nicknames the first time he had seen it.
[Zoe] How strange.
[SherBear] Quite. My deduction leads me to assume it's the result of a combination of poisons that caused the blood to coagulate followed by dismemberment. In a cab to St. Bart's to test samples. S.H.
[Zoe] Yay science!
I took him a few minutes to respond this time.
[SherBear] Sarcasm? S.H.
Zoe chuckled and took a sip from the cup of tea that was resting between her notebooks before responding.
[Zoe] Somewhat. It truly is fascinating at times, when it's explained in less intimidating terms.
[SherBear] I could explain over dinner or perhaps a nightcap, depending on if we finish by tonight. S.H.
She smiled softly at his response.
[Zoe] No can do, darling :( Heavy into the research for my piece. Hitting a bit of a wall on how to make this one of the more intriguing profile pieces.
[SherBear] There you go with the emoji things. Governmental figures and employees, yes? S.H.
[Zoe] :P Yes
[SherBear] I rolled my eyes in case you were wondering. Look into women in the shadows of our government so to speak. Could be interesting. S.H.
Zoe hummed. Women in the shadows of the government.
[Zoe] You are quite smart. Thank you, Sherbet. Good luck on your case!
She chuckled and sat her phone down. She could imagine his annoyed face at the nickname. He knew of her love for the frozen treat, but never appreciated her play on words. Her smile grew when he didn't respond.
"Why do you look like that?" John asked as he looked over and saw his friend frowning at his phone.
Sherlock looked up from his mobile device. "It's nothing. Some data isn't cooperating. Seems like it wants to be purposefully annoying."
"You speak as if data is capable of such a thing," John said shaking his head.
"Oh, this particular set is quite good at it," Sherlock said.
If John was deciphering him correctly, which he was rarely sure he did, he would have thought Sherlock's tone indicated fondness.
"Right," John said, eyebrows furrowing.
When the cab reached St. Bart's, John hopped out first and went ahead. Sherlock rolled his eyes at his companion's swift escape. He had been doing that a lot since his return. Sherlock suspected it was payback for all the times he had been left to pay the fare on a case.
In her flat, Zoe was reaching out to a friend who had contacts within MI6 from past work.
Well, that's chapter one of Secrets Kept. Sherlock will probably be a little OOC because I tried to capture his personality the best I could, but I imagine he'd be a little bit different if he were in a relationship. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Chapter two will be up by the end of the week or early next week...hopefully -K