"Murder." Sherlock says after only ten minutes of looking at the crime scene. "Suspect is 5'6, 126 pounds, female, and has long brown hair, which I have a sample of right here." He held his hand out to Lestrade, who had disbelief and shock covering his face. But who wasn't impressed?
"You're amazing." The words you had been thinking slipped out of your mouth and you didn't think anything of it.
But Sherlock responded. "I know."
You looked up at him, making eye contact before letting out a small laugh. To your surprise, Sherlock laughed a little himself.
You probably would have continued to stare at Sherlock if John hadn't said something.
"Well, Seeing as this adventure is coming to an end," John said, causing both you and Sherlock to turn in interest, but He was only looking at you. "How about that tea?"
You open your mouth, about to respond but you are cut off. Again.
"What about dinner?" This time it was Sherlock. And he was looking at you.
Your heart stopped, was this really happening? It felt like a scene from a movie. You had to choose. Who do you fancy more? The choice suffocated you, and you knew you were getting ahead of yourself. There is no way they are asking you to go with them because they fancy you. Impossible.
But then.. Why?
"I know this cute place," you pause for a moment, unsure if this was the best idea. "We could get both."
The two detectives looked at each other, and then back you.
"Sounds good to me." John said, probably mimicking you from earlier.
"Fine." Sherlock responded over John, as if he was fighting to get heard first.
"Well.. Here we are." You said holding the door for the two of them. You noticed a change in attitude between the two. They had always seemed so close. Too close, actually. Which is part of the reason you are a Johnlock shipper, but they would never find out about that.
"Thank you." Sherlock nodded at you, while John took the door.
"Ladies first." John smiled. You nod a little bit, smiling back as you enter.
"You and Sherlock..." John continued, Hesitantly. "You seem to have similar mannerisms."
You look back at him, quizzically, laughing a little. "You think? Although, I feel as if I have more in common with you." As soon as the comment leaves your mouth, you know it could be interpreted the wrong way and your cheeks redden.
"You think so too?" John laughed along as we walked to the table the waitress sat us at. "I'm glad I'm not the only one."
You both take a seat as an awkward silence filled the air, What were you supposed to say to that? I mean, You knew what he wanted you to say, but... honestly you just met.
Gah! You smack your own forehead. They don't like you like that! Don't get your hopes up, You will just end up disappointing yourself.
You keeps your eyes closed firmly for a few more seconds, opening them once remembering you are at a dinner table. With John and Sherlock.
Where you just embarrassed yourself throughly.
"What-Why are you doing that?" Sherlock probed, leaning in a little further. "Are you displeased?"
"Hey!" John pushed Sherlocks head back, "Don't pressure her." He sounded sincere, but the laughing told other wise.
"Ahh.. Sorry.." You laugh and try not to die at your own embarrassment.
"What's so funny about self-abuse?" Sherlock leaned back, Was he pouting?
You couldn't pass up a moment to tease him.
"Aren't you supposed to be good at reading people. Did I trip you up?" You laugh, still playing around when the mood suddenly switches.
Sherlock leaned forward, pulling your collar towards him until your faces almost touched, and you could feel his breath.
"I have deducted every fact about you. Don't forget. I know your fears, worries, and dislikes. I know your hopes, aspirations. I could tell everyone in this shop things even you wouldn't know about yourself."
You can feel the blood coursing through your veins, your hair standing up on the back of your neck, the fear taking over.
"Sherlock, let her go" John protest were lost as you stated into Sherlocks eyes.
"I am still Sherlock Holmes and You are still transparent." He finishes, grabbing his coat to leave.
You fix the top of you shirt, and breath out. Although you were afraid, His outburst also made you angry. "More like a bloody psychopath." You whisper, half wanting Sherlock to hear, and half praying to the heavens he doesn't.
"More like" Sherlock begins with a mimic, "a High functioning sociopath, and one who has your number."
You are taken aback, registering what he said, as he waved your phone in his hand.
"What..?" You are flustered, Watching him throw you your phone, and walk out the door. "How..?"
"He does that from time to time." John says as he walks you home. "Don't worry about it."
You stare at the screen of your phone before looking up at him. "I thought he was a detective, not a criminal." You laugh a little, "Pickpocketing? Seriously?"
John laughed along with you, until things fell silent again. You always felt horrible at keeping up conversations. But even if it was awkward, you had to try.
"So The day is-"
"Can I get your-"
Both you and John speak at the same time, and laugh a little at your clumsiness.
"Go ahead." You smile, urging John to speak.
"Ahh. Right." He said, as you came to a stop in front of your house. "I know I could get it from Sherlock, but I thought I'd ask you.. Can I-Can I get your phone number, (y/n)?"
"Oh! Uh-" You immediately start sifting through your bag to search for your phone, and hide your heating cheeks. It seems to take forever, only getting your phone out after replaying his question seven times in your head. "Here." You show the screen to him, as he typed it into his own phone.
"I'd better get going," He said right after taking it down, "Thanks. I'll call you right now so You have my number."
Right on cue, your phone rings and you watch John walk into the distance.
"Goodbye." He says through the phone.
"Aha. Goodbye!" You wave, yelling down the street to him.
You unlock your door, immediately falling to the floor in exhaustion.
What the fuck happened today?