Ana's POV
Sherlock was there. Sitting in my flat, while I showered. Sitting there when I came out naked. Naked! Just sitting there. His mouth open, searching for the right words. I wrap another towel around my body, trying not to blush and I remerge from the steamy bathroom.
"Spying on me, were you?" I say, and Sherlock smirks, "I don't know why you are the one smirking, I'm the one that you saw naked from the shower, love."
"I was just trying- just making sure- you were okay."
"The great Sherlock Holmes making sure I'm okay." I take a breath. "That's strange isn't it?"
He cocks an eyebrow, "Maybe I've changed."
I chuckle. "Seriously, when have you ever changed for anybody? Or anything." I add, trying not to increase the awkwardness.
He lifts a shoulder. "You'd be surprised."
"Surprise me then."
And for the first time in his whole life, Sherlock Holmes is speechless.
"Now, if you don't mind, I have to get changed. You can stay or you can leave." I stride back into the bedroom and change into a bra and knickers. I grab a shirt and shorts and head back out. Sherlock is over by my piano and locks shocked to see that I'm not fully clothed.
"Oh come on you saw me naked!" I pull on the shorts and the shirt.
"Do you play?" he says, motioning to the piano.
"No, I just have it in this tiny, little flat for show. Of course I play." I take my seat on the piano bench, a little too close to Sherlock. I place my fingers on the piano and play one of my favorites, "Rhapsody in Blue." I am taken away by the music emerging from the piano. Beautiful and soft, yet fierce and strong. It's not an easy piece, but I've been playing it for so long that it just comes as second nature. My fingers, long and slender, dance across the keys, like a figure skater across the ice. A ballerina belongs in her pointe shoes and my fingers belong on their keys. I finish the piece with relish and Sherlock stares at me.
"That was amazing."
"It was, wasn't it?" I wasn't going to be modest with him, not with that ego.
"Absolutely amazing," he mumbles to himself.
"You play the violin, right?"
"How did you know that?"
"Your fingers have dents and your collarbone has slight discoloration. Plus John told me."
"Figures. He loves it when I play."
"Yes, but not at 3 in the morning."
"I suppose you're right."
"Of course I am, I'm a genius."
"So, what are you doing later?"
"Going to dinner with some old friends. Wait, why do you care?" That got him, speechless again.
"Well, I was just curious." He twiddles his fingers and stares at the ground. He's lying!
"Why are you lying?"
"Because I know that you are in love with me."
"Ooh, pretty outrageous accusation, must be getting a little cocky!" I smirk.
"Well, then tell me this. When I said that it was a possibility that you could be in love with John, you blushed, as most women would do when being accused of liking someone they don't. But when I said it was a possibility that you liked me, nothing. Your face went expressionless and you immediately lied, saying you were cold. Very interesting in fact because your pupils dilated because you're in love with me and because you lied."
"Fine, I won't deny it, but that thing that you were talking about is slowly starting to fade."
"Why?" his voice is soft now, like a light fall rain.
"Why, what?"
"Why would you ever love someone like me?"
"Oh, you want me to get all sentimental and stuff, well too bad. I have to get ready for my dinner plans."
"Fine and who are you going with?"
"Friends from high school. After I ran away from the orphanage, I went to a boarding school and made some friends. I had loads of money after my parents died, so I went to a really nice college which took all my money, so now I'm not as wealthy."
"Okay, I'll get out of your way." He gets up off the piano bench and heads toward the door.
"Sherlock." I say. He turns.
"Yes, Ana."
"How could anyone that sees the real you absolutely not love it?" And with that, I walk to the bedroom.
A few hours later, I get back to the flat, way too tipsy. I jam the key into the door and fall down through the doorframe. I lay on the floor, giggling until John and Sherlock run in, worried.
"Oh god, she's drunk." John mutters.
"Yes, I am Drunk and you must be No Fun!" I slur. John rolls his eyes and he and Sherlock lift me up and carry me to the bedroom. I get thrown on the bed.
"Yay! Again! Again!" I shout. John starts to unbutton my beer soaked pants, but Sherlock's voice stops him.
"John! What are you doing!?" he shouts.
"What does it look like? I'm taking off her pants so she can sleep!"
"No!"
"It's awful sleeping in jeans, especially tight ones like these! Why are you so touch- oh… you like her too, don't you!"
Sherlock blushes, "Maybe. But I will be the one undressing her."
"I don't know what you guys are worried about," I mumble, "I can do it myself." I try to rip the pants off, but it gets stuck around my knees. John and Sherlock both grab them and pull them off the rest of the way. I crawl under the covers and fall asleep.
The sun glares through the window. A little too bright and a little too early.
"Oh, god!" I curse.
"You must have a massive hangover," says the shirtless Sherlock next to me.
"You don't even know and what are you doing in my actual bed this time?"
"Apparently trying to sleep," he says with a smirk.
"Haha! But really," I say, sarcastic.
"Well, you kind of dragged me in last night. You said something about wanting to be next to your Shurly." He raises an eyebrow, "Then after I did get into bed next to you, you wrapped your entire body around me in ways I didn't even know possible."
"Sorry about that. I've heard from others that I do that."
"But it wasn't so bad you know. Kind of comfortable and warm."
"Thanks, I guess."
"Oh and you also kissed me. Thought you'd like to know."
"Jesus! Now you tell me! Oh lord!"
"Yeah," he says, hiding a grin.
"What are you grinning about? There is nothing amusing about this situation."
"Yes there is. After you kissed me you said, 'Oh lord' and feel back asleep."
"Oh haha. Very funny." I get out of bed and make it to the bathroom. I glare at my horrid reflection in the mirror. Greasy hair, dirty body, bloodshot eyes. But the eyes aren't from the drinking. I pluck the contacts from my eyes and throw them in the toilet. I rummage through my cluttered drawer until I find my glasses. I shove those on my nose and then I can see again.
"You have glasses?"
"No, I'm wearing these for fun, honestly Sherlock, you scare me sometimes." I walk to my closet and pull on a pair of sweatpants and a loose fitting shirt.
"Can you make me tea?" I ask.
"I won't, but I'm sure John will." I roll my eyes and follow him to 221B.
"John, can you make me some tea?" I sit down on the couch and massage my temples.
"Yeah, of course. Did you lovebirds sleep alright?" he says, smiling to himself.
"Oh god John, just shut up." I say, playfully.
"I'll take that as a yes." I roll my eyes and go back to my massage.
"I'd like some, too, John." Sherlock comments.
"Of course. Busy night last night?" John says, smirking again.
"Why would you say that? Oh right, because we 'slept' together." He picks up his violin.
"I was drunk! Come on, guys!" I shout.
"You weren't that drunk. Only had a couple of beers." Sherlock stated, lifting the violin to his chin. I ignore that comment as he starts to play. He looks completely at home when he does, probably how I look when I play piano. His eyes look lost in a deep wonder of time and space and I am just as content staring at him. He plays a number of pieces, each one blending into the last. And each one more spectacular then the last. John comes over next to me and hands me a teacup.
"He does this sometimes," he says, "Just plays until he's done thinking."
"What could he possibly be thinking about?" I wonder aloud.
"You." John says, bluntly.
"Me!" I reply, shocked.
"He obviously likes you. Geez, for a couple of geniuses you two aren't that bright."
"Yes, because we never think about love. And why could he possibly love me?"
"First off, you're clever. And there is nothing Sherlock loves more than a clever person. Second, you question his intelligence often, so that means he'll never get bored. Third, you care for him, which is like the last quality he looks for in someone."
"Oh," I mummer, shocked that John knew all of this. The music abruptly stops, making John and I both jump up.
"Well, I'll be going out for a while." He walks over to the door, grabs his coat and scarf and walks back to the couch. He looks at me dead in the eyes, then grabs the back of my neck and pulls me towards him. Our lips touch and he kisses me for about 4.2 seconds before releasing me and walking out the door. My face turns crimson and I turn to John, who is just as stunned as I am.
"What was that!?"
A/N: Ohh! I wonder what's going to happen! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Please review! :)
CaughtInTheStorm