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Private Entries.

Second Entry.

Sherlock BBC series.

Fan Fiction by Bumblebee.

Black and two sugars. That's how Sherlock has his coffee. Strong and sweet. Both only add to his already active mind and body, but who am I to judge the way Sherlock Holmes has his coffee. I just handed it to him and now he's holding it between his hands.

He's sitting cross legged watching the telly. He's watching Eastenders. His face is relaxed, but his eyes are trained on the screen. I asked him why he was watching this.

"There's nothing else on." He'd answered. You'd think he'd turn it off and read a book or something, but perhaps watching dull television calms his mind down a bit.

Sherlock was accused for another murder again. It's not true. If he'd done it, no one would find out. I'm pretty sure he could make a body disappear. And besides I think he has more fun solving a crime then committing one. If he had, I think I would want to know why and how, but that would be my morbid curiosity. Still I don't believe he would kill out of boredom.

"It's bothering you isn't it?" He had asked me earlier, when I was having the same thoughts.

"Yes." I replied. "It's ridiculous, why do they…does she keep doing this? You helped with so many cases and still Donovan doubts you."

Sherlock smiled. "Yes. I think she's frightened by me. I make most people uncomfortable. Perhaps you're the strange one."

Yes, perhaps I am the strange one, but then again; I prefer to be strange and realistic. What he does is real and I truly admire that. I also wouldn't want to miss all of this for the world!

No matter how clever you think you are, he will outsmart you. It's fascinating to watch him. Perhaps I should feel uncomfortable and I admit; the first time I met him I did feel some discomfort, but that was soon replaced by admiration. And nowadays I'm used to him figuring everything out about what I'm doing, or even feeling most of the time. It makes me feel safe. He makes me feel alive. There is no point hiding or pretending around him. I like that.

I suddenly stopped this entry because Sherlock managed to knock me of balance again.

"Are you writing another private entry?" He asked as I was writing the previous bit.

"Uhm…I haven't decided if it's private yet or not. I guess."

"How do you decide what's private or not?"

If he's asking, then I guess he hadn't read those entries. That would have been nice of him, which is why I am still being suspicious whether he did read them or not.

"Cases aren't."

"But your daily thoughts are." It wasn't a question. "And seeing we haven't solved our case yet I'm guessing this is a private thought." He had conducted correct.

"Hang on, I thought this was a boring murder and you wanted nothing to do with it." Why does this man still surprise me? Shouldn't I not be surprised, when he does things out of the blue?

"Because I just realized I made a mistake."

"What?" This was the biggest surprise of them all.

"What? I too am only human." It was clear it had bothered him. Which is probably why he hadn't said anything before. And when I think about it I realize I was the only person he had explained the murder too. I was the only one he had to confess too. It feels nice to know we were close enough for him to do so.

It happened again. Kissing I mean. Just as unexpected as the last time. We were sitting on the sofa having a chat about the mission. Well he was explaining to me what exactly had happened. After that there was a silence, I was tired enough to fall asleep right then and there. I leaned my head back comfortable and looked at him. He smiled at me.

I would like to tell you that he initiated the whole thing, but that wasn't true. It was both of us, or perhaps I started it. The thought makes me nervous and excited at the same time.

I pushed myself up and he leaned in. Our lips met in a soft, but slightly desperate touch. I hesitated and he must have noticed. Sherlock's hand slipped in the back of my neck and he deepened the kiss.

As I type this; my heart makes me almost giddy and I feel like curling my hand into a fist again. Only this time I don't have his shirt to curl my fingers around.

He pushed me back until I was lying down on the sofa. He felt heavy and warm. My own hands roamed his back and pulled him closer. He stumbled, but quickly balanced himself on his knee between my legs. The kiss continued; it was a bit sloppy. We both were trying to take control, both our mouths were parted the same way. A woman usually parts her lips less wide then the man does. But in this case it was confusing. But thrilling and, well hot.

A gasp startled us both and I immediately pushed him off and got up of the couch. It was mrs. Hudson. She looked as embarrassed as I was feeling. I could hardly look at her. I was breathing heavily and felt sweaty.

After only a moment she found her voice again. "I…I'm sorry dears." And she quickly left.

I ran after her and caught up before she managed to enter he rooms.

"I am truly sorry you had to see that, it…" It never happened before? That wasn't true. It won't happen again? But I didn't want to say that.

"It's alright dear. You're in love. Goodnight." She smiled a bit unsure and closed her door.

And that was it.

I am wide awake now.

~Fin

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