The sunlight glared through the window makes me squint and blink my eyes a few times just to get adjusted. I groan and snuggle back into the warm body next to me. Into the WARM BODY NEXT TO ME! I let out a small scream, then clamp my hand over my mouth. It's really not that big of a deal and I really don't want to let John know that I slept with Sherlock. Well, not slept with Sherlock. John said that Sherlock never slept in his bed. What changed him mind? Was it me? Oh god no, it couldn't have been. Sherlock Holmes doesn't … feel. I look back over at the curly haired man that was lying next to me. He looks oddly peaceful while he sleeps, and I quite like it. I brush away a dark curl from his pale face and his eyes snap open. I quickly draw my hand back and look the other way.
"What are you doing in my bed?" his voice croaky from just waking up.
"What are you doing in," I think for a second. "your bed?"
"Trying to sleep. Geez for a so called 'genius' you are not so bright," he mutters.
"Um, excuse me, I am just as smart as you if not smarter," I say, louder than needed.
"You, smarter than me!" He laughs. "You are so very humorous.
"Why thank you, you objectionable child." My voice laced with sarcasm.
John bursts in, panting hard. Curious, since the furthest away he could have been was the main room, but the tea stains on his cuff suggested that he was having tea with Mrs. Hudson. Her kitchen is significantly farther away.
"I heard Sherlock laugh, is something wrong?" He looks at our "situation."
"Umm, am I interrupting something?" The crease between his eyebrows shows confusion and curiosity.
"Oh, you think that we-" I start.
"Really, John you think I would-" Sherlock begins.
"were doing that?! Oh please he's-"
"actually be doing something like-"
"so loathable, I could barely-"
"that. I thought you knew me-"
"sit here with him, even though-"
"better then that. Her intelligence, though-"
"he is quite smart, although he-"
"is quite impressive for someone with-"
"can be totally oblivious to people's-"
"a child hood like that, someone has got-"
"boundaries, even if he is that-"
"to be resilient to still be that-"
"Intelligent," we finish together.
"Um, I'm just going to ignore that, and you two can come out when you are ready. Out of the bedroom I mean. But judging by that situation, I would have to say that neither of you are, never mind." He leaves still mumbling to himself.
"Well, that was very exciting, too much exactly, so I will be on my way." I throw the covers off, but before I can leave the room I hear Sherlock clear his throat.
"Yes?" I ask, turning around and waiting for my snarky reply.
"Who's Ben?" He says cautiously, as if opening up an old wound.
Except that's exactly what he did.
"Nothing, nobody, a friend, or at least he was. Either way, none of your business." I stammer, my voice shaking and tears threatening to spill. I expect him to pry, to want to know every detail, but he just nods and I run out of the room as the tears pour down my cheeks. John, who is in the main room, finishing up his tea, jumps up and starts towards me, but I shake my head and manage to say, "I'm okay." I run back down the stairs into my flat, and since there are like no pieces of furniture to flop on, I am forced to sit on the ground and sob.
"Ana? Ana! I know you're in there!" Instead of John's comforting voice, its Sherlock's sharp one. "Look I'm sorry, I know what it feels like!"
"Stop lying!" I shout between sobs, "You don't! You've never felt anything! You're – you're a machine!"
I hear his footsteps away, followed by another knock.
"Ana, dear? I know you're not up to it, but the furniture people are here," Mrs. Hudson's clear voice rings through.
I get up and splash water on my face. I open the door to see a tall, but very slender brunette standing at the door.
"Anastasia Turner?" the man asks in a thick Irish accent. I nod my head, wiping my eyes.
"Okay, we have all your furniture and the couch is not put together, but we will do that. Do you have anywhere you can go for an hour or two?" The man offers me the paper to sign, while clearly looking at my chest.
"She can stay in John's flat." Sherlock says, who obviously is still standing there. I quickly scrawl my signature and let Sherlock grab me by the waist and lead me back up the stairs.
"You don't have to do that. God, it makes me feel like you're taking advantage of me or something." I wrap my arms around myself.
"Well, that man would have tried to take advantage of you!"
"You don't think I can see that? I'm not blind!"
"I know you're not! I also know that some men won't take just 'no' for an answer!"
"Why are you so worried about me? You should know that I can take care of myself!"
"I know you can, but you are different."
"Different good or different bad." My voice is quiet now.
"Different good." I can barely hear his response and with that, I know that Sherlock Holmes has never felt this way with any other person.
A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing! I am going to set a poll up about if Ana and Sherlock should get together, or just more sexual tension! :) So check that out! But I have a really good idea for the next chapter, so I'll see what happens! Thanks again!
CaughtInTheStorm