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Theme 41: Companions
The Factory Assignment
Sherlock x Reader

Brown orbs flashed with a hint of a glare. Her brows were furrowed together and the edges of her mouth were drawn into a frown. The tapping of her foot was enough for me to deduce that she was gravely annoyed. There were multiple possible causes for this; seven to be exact. But in the meanwhile, it was far too many for me to narrow down.

“Well?” she spat, crossing her arms against the thin red fabric of her raincoat. It had been the very same that she snatched furiously out of my hands with a scowl three months ago. She had left in such a rush that she completely forgotten her umbrella. To this day, it had still been leaning across the side of door. Up until a month ago, a large quantity of dust had gathered atop if it. Ms.Hudson had probably wiped it off when she came to drop by with those cakes from the local bakery across the street from the flat. Despite insisting that she was not a maid but a landlady, it never stopped her from cleaning house so that it was meticulously clean. “If you took the the time to track me down then I presume you have a reason for doing so. God knows that you don’t waste time on frivolous detours when you have a case.” The brunette began to tap her freshly done French manicured nails against the dry sleeve. Her patience was running thin.

“I’m not in the midst of a case at the moment,” I said simply with a shrug prior to placing my cool hands into the front pockets of my wool coat. The curls of my brown hair brushed against my forehead as a gust of wind blew by us. I could see her trying to remain composed as her knees buckled beneath her thin clothing. I paused, my lips pursed together and then shrugged off my trench coat, holding it out in front of me. “Here. Take it before you freeze to death. John will have my head if he were to hear of this.”

Of course, it wasn’t as if John was an actual danger to my well being. Other than a few hits here and there, the man wouldn’t harm his flatmate. Not to mention his movements were far too predictable. His right hand had a habit of trembling when he was nervous so he’d aim with his left first; a swing aim for the nose and from there a chokehold until he calmed down.

She looked around, eyes darting from the crack in the sidewalk, her reflection in the pub mirror and down to her scarlet pumps. “I’m fine,” she said softly, balling her dainty fingers into fists on the hem of her jacket. “Since when did you care anyhow?” I ignored her quip. Her arms were quivering, probably due to either her own anxiousness or the lack of proper attire.

I walked towards her, the light scent of lavender drifting by my nose, enclosing the distance between us to be six inches in order to place my coat atop of her shoulder. I said nothing, merely waiting to gauge her reaction.

She glanced upwards, a small flint of hope on her face while tugging the outerwear so that it covered both her shoulder blades before murmuring a quiet thank you. Her gaze still refused to meet mine forcing me to peer at the bits of frost forming atop of her head. Even with her heels, she was a good eight inches shorter than I was.

“Is that all? Had you come to lend me your coat and send me off?” Now that her shaking had stopped, I could see the edge of my overcoat scraping the top of the pavement. I frowned slightly. The wool would fray. It didn’t help either that there was such an abundance of others moving around.

“I’ve come because John was nagging me about our last meeting. He said that I may have been ignorantly rude to you.” In all reality, there was nothing wrong about our last departure. We had a perfectly fine conversation together right up the moment she left. “He insists that I talk it over with you.” And apologise. Although, for what, I wasn’t sure.

She brought her head upwards, finally making eye contact. “And talk about what exactly?” Despite knowing that she would find herself much warmer if she had bothered to button up, she left the coat wide open. Most unlikely as an act of defiance. It was too cool for her not to accept my gesture but there was that stubborn quality of hers that prevented her from completely warming up to it.

“I suppose he wanted us to speak about any unresolved issues that may had been left.” I rolled my shoulders into a slight shrug. It felt odd to be without my coat. That one missing layer had become a daily occurrence with me. Without it, it was as if a part of me was missing.

“He?” she questioned. “As in John?” The American sighed. “We shouldn’t be conversing if you’re not here of your own free will. Look, I should get going. I have somewhere to be.” She made a quick turn on her heel in the other direction, scanning for either a cab or a place to hide out.

I had only allowed to her walk barely two steps forward before grabbing ahold of arm. The shorter brunette jerked her head back. “What?” Her voice cracked slightly. For the first time in my life, I was speechless. My breath was hitched in the back of my throat and it struggled to get out. “Ah, yes. Your coat.”

“Keep it.” Her brows curved. Did I answer too quickly? I cleared my throat and brought up my left hand, nervously rubbing the back of my neck. “You can return it to me properly in a moment’s time.”

“I told you, I have somewhere to be. I can’t stick around here any longer. I’m already late as it is.”

I observed her carefully. It was a little harder to tell with the coat on but she wasn’t lying. Her posture was straight as a board, her eyes locked onto mine firmly and her wrists were at her side. In the past three years I’ve known her, she had always dug her nails firmly into her wrist whenever she fibbed. This meant she had been going somewhere, and more importantly, meeting up with someone. Now the real question was who and in what nature that they were meeting.

“Are you alright there?”

Her auburn hair was curled and tucked into a casual updo. There was a reason she didn’t wear it down. By leaving her hair out, it would appear to appear too casual. It would imply that she hadn’t care at all about her appearance while visiting her conversationalist and rather left the house without putting any thought into their meeting. If she left it up, it would seem too professional. Body image often reflects the mind. A bun would prove that she was uptight and that anything said or done would be strictly formal. Thus by putting it up and curled, she gained both the illusion of glamour without trying too hard.

As for her clothing, a new floral blouse. It was no where near wore out and the colors were fresh enough that it looked like it came straight out of the printer. There was a low v-neckline showing off a bit of cleavage. Placing the one time she expressed her interests in hand into consideration, it was safe to say that her image was not for the female gender to gander at. Then there was was the short tight red pencil skirt that stopped just about four inches above the knee.

Lastly, her makeup. Her lipstick shade was a light pink highlighting her high cupid’s bow and round eyes. The rest of her face had gone for a so called natural presentation. There was a rather large amount of irony to it since she had been wearing layers of concealer, and foundation nearly matching her medium skin tone but still a few shades off.

She wouldn’t had gotten herself this gussied up for a family member. They already knew what she looked like in sweats and without cosmetics so there was no point in trying to impress them. Had it been work, she would had more urgently trying to push away my attention, insisting that there was a meeting of some sort. Friends… A possibility but nearly implausible. For the most part, she was unattached much like myself. However, I had John and she had some other fellow back in America. Had they dropped by for a visit, she would had been off at the airliner’s by now. Due to slight terrorist fright, the only open airport was at least thirty miles away. Which only meant one thing:

“You’re going on a date.”

A blush made its way onto her already rosy cheeks. “How did you- Oh, nevermind. I must say, I’m surprised you know what a date is. John gave me the impression that you were completely lost when it came to the notion.” The balls of her feet began to fidget from one square block to the other.

“It’s not serious.”

Pause. “What isn’t?”

“Your date.”

“I don’t believe that’s all of your business or concern,” she replied bitterly with her arms crossed. The sound of cars honking, blinkers changing and flashing street lamps echoed throughout the street behind her.

“Three months ago you came to my flat with your pulse accelerated, pupils dilated and red lipstick to echo your nail polish, which was either an unconscious decision or one you were trying to encourage. However, from my perspective only one of those factors stand here.”

She audibly gulped. “I just had my nails done. I wasn’t going to redo them and it’s not as if I can exactly coordinate the lips to match my tips either. As for the other two, they simply haven’t shown because I haven’t met with him yet.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” My thumb stroked the inside of her hand before landing softly above her wrist. “There is proof that two of the symptoms have been showing. Your pupils are just as large as pearls and your heart rate is elevated.”

“That doesn’t mean a thing.” Her voice was quiet. Had she gone a tone or two lower, her words would had been swept by the wind and past the bustling streets of London.

“You have a fairly adequate intelligence. I’m sure you know what this means-”

“Don’t.” The instant she withdrew her hand from my own, I could feel the cold rush of winter air hitting me. “Please,” she pleaded. “Just don’t.”

Her foot may had been pointed in my direction but her entire top half had been swung to the side. For the most part, she desperately wanted to leave but there was something keeping her grounded. But what was it? The side of her mouth peaked open to speak, there was a seventy percent chance that was going to bid her farewells. “You should come back to the flat and pick up your umbrella.” Before I even had an idea of what I was saying, the words flew out. Had I just acted on impulse? Impossible. I only trusted my instincts and logic (the two of which went hand-in-hand). Well, I suppose I had to say something to convince her to stay.

“Sherlock, I told you I have an appointment-”

“A date.”

She shook her head. “Right. If I went back to Baker street now, I’d be late.”

“Then postpone it. Earlier while we were speaking, you mentioned that you were already late. Moments have past since then and you haven’t glimpsed at your watch once.” She had opened her mouth and then closed it again after coming across a lack of words. “Obviously, you must not be that concerned of making a bad impression. And while you’re already late, you may as well cancel altogether.”

A black cab pulled up to the two of us and the door swing open. Inside was a driver; middle aged, and white hairs caused by stress as evident by the frown lines by his cheekbones. Coffee stained the sleeve of his shirt, explaining the odd tint around his elbows as he rolled it up in order to cover it up. There had been enough time for the liquid to settle in for maybe two-- three-- days. The man hadn’t showered in days. On the dashboard was a photo of two children; a young boy and a girl. An arm was cut off from the side. The mother had been out of the picture. He was divorced, had she died then he would had kept her in the photo for sentimental reasons.. Only recently had he stopped wearing his wedding band, explaining the faded mark around his ring finger. The frame was new but the photo wasn’t. He thinks about them daily and obviously, hadn’t seen them for quite some time.

“Fancy a ride?” he asked, his voice nearly choking.

“Yes. 221b Baker Street.” I opened the back seat door before looking back at her. “Well?”

She averted her gaze before proceeding to mumble. “You’re paying for the bloody taxi.”

I followed behind her and got inside the vehicle. The moment the cab began to move, the man spoke. “So how are ya’ two?”

“We accepted your services on the terms that you would take us to our destination not make idle chit-chat.”

My companion sent me a glare. “I’m awfully sorry about… him. I’ll be sure that he leaves you a tip.” I was going to object but the glint in her eyes matched John’s when he wanted to me shut-up.

Immediately after that, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell; red as opposed to her previous black one. The screen was sleek and had a lack of fingerprints meaning she had bought it recently . “You got a new cell.”

“Indeed, I did.” She gave a curt acknowledgement before continuing to type into the touchscreen. It was a smartphone much like my own.

“That’s the newest model yet,” I merely observed aloud.

“Give it a week or two. Another will be released soon enough.” After one last swift flick on the screen, she switched her tab to her email.

“What excuse did you give him this time? An issue popped up at work? Out with the flu?” She briefly spared me a peek before resuming typing. I rolled my eyes over to the window analyzing the surroundings outside the vehicle. But from the corner of my peripheral vision I could see her suppressing a chuckle.

“I had asked to reschedule for another time.” There wasn’t any sort of ping or sound after her sent message- he hadn’t replied. She scrolled down after fervishly writing her message and finally sending.

“You’ll cancel.” She paused, locking her phone before looking for me to go on. “Clearly, you’re not very interested in the fellow. It’s a blind date- probably set up by your mother for that matter. But oh, how did I know it was a blind date? It’s simple. Due to your professional outlook on life, you have a strict rule on dating coworkers. So that was definite no. Friends, you don’t have many, no.”

“For your information I-”

“Who are you trying to convince me or you? Because we both know very well that whatever you say won’t change my opinion.” Silence. “Very well then. Shall I go on? Strangers. Well, as exciting as John may think it is, you don’t find it so. You find most people to be irritating as they don’t catch up with your thought process making it a chore to explain what is blatantly obvious. You wouldn’t give a passerby more than a glance, much less your time of day. Unless of course you were obligated to. So who could it be? Certainly not your boss, as such activities are illegal in London. We’ve already eliminated friends so that leaves family. You’re an only child, your father’s dead and you’re not close to any other relatives but your mother. So that leaves us that one option.

“If that isn’t enough then is still one remaining fact that proves my theory that you were not interested in your companion.”

“And what would that be?” she asked with a tinge of annoyance and raised brow.

I detered my gaze, returning to glance at our surroundings. A sigh. “Well, obviously you’ve known what I’ve been up to in my lovelife since we last drifted, isn’t it only fair that I learn about yours.” I spared her a brief sideways glimpse before rolling my pupils back to the window. “We both know that I could deduce what you’ve been up to from what I can recall from past experiences, in your case being none, but that still wouldn’t get me very far.”

“I can’t answer your question because it doesn’t have one,” I stated bluntly. Lovelife? Why would I waste my valuable time on something as insignificant as that? Of course, John had given me the “it’s important to have someone in my life” speech about twelve times over the last three months now. But why would I need one of those? I already have someone special in my life; I have John. I don’t need friends, I have one. He tolerates me and I tolerate him, isn’t that how it works?

“What about the woman?” It would appear that the tables have turned as now she avoided my gaze, hoping to cover her discomfort with the same act as I had. However, she forget to account for her reflection in the glass showing her wavering eyes. It was unlike her to get sloppy like that.

“What woman?” To my recollection, the only woman I had frequent contact with was Ms.Hudson and that was simply because of her frequent check-ups. And there was no reason to be unnerved about her. The two of them got along nicely. There were plenty of times where I had been off on a case only to return to the two of them enjoying a cup of tea in my flat. And each time, she would pester me on how lucky I was to have such a “nice young lady to return home to” before I tuned out the stories of her last husband.

“The woman. The one on your cell.” Her heels began to fidget on the carpeted floor and her head was pointed downwards. “The one that you get texts from.”

“Oh.” My voice became a sort of montone as the mention of Irlene brought back all sorts of memories that I had stashed away. I was told to forget about them considering her so called “unfortunate end.” In their opinions, I was held back from the truth because I couldn't handle it. But in reality, there were the ones hidden in the dark. It was a bit disappointing that no one would ever know the truth about the incident but it was the secrecy that made the event so significant in the first place. “I hardly see what she has to do with anything.”

“Just answer the question, Sherlock.” Her words were blunt and to the point. The entire situation was causing her to be reckless, why else would she be losing her touch? But a new question arose, why does she care so much? It was as if her life was depending on the response. But there was no logical reason to it. My relations (or lack of) with another person didn’t affect her physical state in the least bit and it wasn’t as there was anything hazardous about the ringtone that had been placed.

“And what exactly do you want to know about her?” She suddenly shrank into the folds of my coat. “Well?”

There was a slight bump beneath the sleeves of my jacket as she twiddled her fingers. “Are you still in contact with her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“At this point, it would be impossible for anyone to get in contact with her.”

Her head quickly whipped to face me. Her large eyes like stained glass window peered at me with a trace of guilt. “O-oh. I’m sorry for your loss.”

I wasn’t sure why she was attempting to console me. She had no former knowledge of my correlations with the other. As far as she knew, Irlene and I could had been more than acquaintances. Not that we were. The few times that we had spoken were far less than what acquaintances would share. “Thank you, I suppose.”

“It can’t possibly be easy losing a lover like that.”

“She wasn’t my lover.”

Delicate fingers slipped into the armholes of the jacket and made themselves halfway through the sleeve. “But your ringtone!”

“Yes? What about it? I had previously told you and John that they only changed it as a joke.”

“But a noise like that…” Her cheeks flushed a scarlet red. “It’s a little more than just personal.”

“How so?”

She peered at me quizzically. “How do you- Oh, that’s right.” Her head buried into the palm of her hand before slowing lifting upward. “So there was never anything going on between the two of you?”

“Elaborate.”

“There was never anything strange that transpired while the two of each shared company?”

“Your definition and my definition differ greatly, you’ll have to be more precise.”

“Like did the two of you ever get close?” The cab came to a stop at a redlight. There was one car behind us, honking its horn despite the obvious sign that they couldn’t move just yet.

“Yes.”

“How close?”

“You’ll need to be more detailed.”

“For goodness sake!” Her brows knitted together once more as she threw her hands up in the air for emphasis. “Don’t make me spell this out for you!” I remained motionless as the car moved back into motion. She sighed. “Have you two ever had dinner together? Did you ever see her unclothed? Did you two get anywhere near your bed, Sherlock?!” Her last question nearly came out as an exclamation rather than a question. As much as I would had liked to correct her speech, the timing didn’t seem right.

“No, we’ve never had dinner together.” The look of relief washed over her face. “However I have seen her undressed and there was a time that she was lying in my bed.”

Relief quickly contorted to one of disgust as she muttered a few choice words and yelling for the cabbie to stop. She shot me a quick view with her brows pointed upwards like an upside down v and her teeth digging into her bottom lip before getting out of the vehicle and slamming the door. She hadn’t bothered to move, rather digging her heels into the concrete and crossing her arms over her chest. Her legs were stiff, as were her arms. I frowned.

“Well, mate? Ya’ gonna go after ‘er?” As tiresome as he may have been, the cabbie was right. I opened up my wallet and threw him a sizable amount of bills before exiting. A faint, “Good luck,” was all I heard as the smell of old tires burning against the pavement left an unsavory odor.

We were about two blocks away from the flat. Honestly, we could had just stayed in the taxi for the rest of the ride and it wouldn’t had made much of a difference in the fare or time. Had it not been for her sudden moodswing, we would nearly be at the door by now. It would had been much more efficient.

Remembering the bits and pieces of the lecture on compassion John gave me, I placed a hand atop of her shoulder only to be quickly shaken off. “You’re upset with me.” It was a phrase that I didn’t frequently use considering I didn’t care for most opinions and therefore didn’t bother with making any further notes on their emotions.

“I wonder what gave off that impression,” she bit out, wrapping her arms around herself tighter. White tips peeked out as her hands were jerked and rolled up against the fabric.

No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t contain the smug look on my face. “You’re jealous.”

Brown hair whisked itself around to reveal a very flustered face. “What?! No, I’m-” I arched a brow. “Alright! Fine! So what if I am? Don’t I deserve the right to considering what you’ve done?”

“And what is it that I’ve done exactly that upsetted you?”

“For god’s sake, Sherlock!” She ran up to me, clutching my shirt. I could see her small puffs of labored breaths blow upwards towards my face. Her heels were in the air as she shifted all her weight off her heels in an attempt to even the height difference “You saw her naked and she was in your bed! If that isn’t intimate, then clearly I don’t know what is.”

“I never said they occurred at the same time.”

“Wait, what?”

“They were two different incidents.”

“I’m going to ask you this one time, Sherlock. Did you feel anything for her? Anything different or new that you don’t normally feel for people?” Her tone grew taunt and her head pointed downwards at a piece of paper that had been fluttering.

Although, I had to admit I had never met anyone like Miss Adler before. Other than the same curiosity I normally felt towards clients and cases, there was nothing particular that stood out about her. “No.”

Her grip loosened. Just as she about to evenly distribute her weight back onto the ground, she had miscalculated just how much pressure to place and her heel snapped, causing her to tumble face first into my chest. My eyes widened as I placed my hands on both sides of her arms, pulling her up. “Are you alright?” I did a quick scan over her foot-- few scratches and bruises. Considering the impact and odd angle that she landed on, it was likely that she sprained her ankle. “You shouldn’t be standing with a sprained ankle like that too long. Especially on uneven ground like this.” Which more than likely was the cause of her trip.

She pushed herself out of my grip. Her nose flared and her lips were fidgeting like a fish. “I’m fine.” As she attempted to take a step back, she only wobbled causing me involuntary grab her arms when she lost her balance. Immediately, she tottered up with the best of her ability leering at me expectantly with glassy enlarged pupils.

“If you don’t believe me, we can get a second opinion. John should still be at the flat and it wouldn’t be too long of a walk considering we were already heading in that direction anyhow.” Other than reassurance, it didn’t seem as if his assistance was really needed. I was right. I’m always right. The fall wasn’t fatal enough to cause a bone fracture, and clearly the injury was tender to touch explaining why her right eye twitched and she flinched getting back up. It should be fine within a few days as long as she didn’t worsen the condition of it. My eyes scoured the street for a second open vehicle. This was a reasonably unpopulated area and so most cabs didn’t drive by searching for customers especially when it was dark out. I had the option of calling a taxi but considering the time it would take to arrive, it’d be much faster walking.

“For the last time, I’m well. I don’t need a doctor’s opinion and I don’t have a sprained ankle.” The confidence in her voice shrunk as well as the volume as she tried to stand upright only to limp instead.

With a sigh, I hoisted her up in my arms in what I believe to be called “bridal style.” Like a fish out of water, she flopped around trying to escape. “What do you think you’re bloody doing?” Despite the flailing of her arms and front legs, the stance of her backside and back legs were relaxed. “Put me down, this instance!”

It was hard to take her seriously when her mouth said one thing but her body and facial expression said another. “I told you already, we’re taking you to see a doctor,” I stated calmly before proceeding to walk.

“Do you understand how many counts of kidnapping this is?”

There was no sense in trying to reason with her so I kept my mouth shut as we headed towards the next turn. Eventually, once she noticed that I would not respond to her banter, our walk became silent. The only noises that could be heard were the far-off driving of cars, old telly sets playing game shows and a single set of footsteps. However about five minutes into our stroll, the softly-spoken calling of my name broke the peace.

“Have you thought about my question? You know, since we’ve last spoken.” Her arms hung loosely around my neck for support and she laid limply in my arms. It didn’t seem as she was tense any longer as her head relaxed against the crook of my neck. Now that we were closer, I noticed the essence of strawberries in her hair. She had been relatively light and her frame… it was small. It was a mystery to me how she hadn’t manage to look so fragile considering how petite she really was. “Sherlock?”

“Yes. I have.” There was rarely a day that passed by that I hadn’t been puzzled by her inquiry. According to John, I had spent twenty three times exactly mumbling out loud as opposed to my usual moments of quiet.

“So I take it that you have the same reply as you did three months ago.” Her clutch tightened, pulling the two of us closer together as she nuzzled against my bare skin.

I absentmindedly held her firmer while refusing to look downward, rather looking straight ahead. “I still refuse to give the relationship we have a label.” Her posture had begun to slump. “I’m sure that you’ve noticed by now but we’re different from the ordinary people. We understand so much more. Ordinary people look around and see streets, lights, buildings- Not us. We see stories: the past... the present... and the future. I would say that alone is enough to say that ordinary terms can’t define who we are. But to answer your follow-up question, my answer to your original question has changed.”

She pulled herself up as well as she could, somehow managing a straight back as she shifted her position. “How so?”

“You’re not a ferret. You needn’t fidget so much.”

“Sorry.” She shrunk back, making herself comfortably buried into my chest.

“My initial response may not have changed but the reasoning behind it has. Previously, we had based our answer on your preferences of what others dictate to be a normal relationship. We had crossed out the obvious as well are not blood-related. So that removed all sorts of family bonds. We aren’t acquaintances as we converse and meet far too often to not be past that stage. Business associates. The two of us don’t even work in the same field. Friends- we both know I only have one --which is John-- so the title of what you called a ‘best friend’ goes to him as well. The two of us have never never changed our marital status, much less with each other. So that eliminates spouses and fiancés.”

I kept walking. We were nearly there. After John got a good look at her and confirmed exactly what I had deduced then he could call a cab home for her. But knowing John and Ms.Hudson, they would insist on her staying until morning at the very least or perhaps even long enough to nurse her to health. She would deny any sort of help until the two of them are practically holding her hostage. John would ask me for my opinion with the high hopes of me persuading her to stay and I’d shrug off the question as long as she remains out of my experiments then her presence means nothing to me.

“But wait.” I found myself being pulled away from my thoughts once more. “Wouldn’t the only option left be lovers?” I was rather surprised that it took so long for her to come to that conclusion. It must be a slow day for her. Her eyes blinked anxiously as if unsure of herself, her head was tilted slightly on an angle.

I didn’t answer.

“But that’s improbable isn’t it? Sherlock, you never show interest in subjects other than murder. Never mind anything romantic.” Her voice was filled with pure shock as I felt her gaze burning into me.

“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” This was one of my personally favorite sayings. It was funny how so many little brains worked as they are unable to place such simple pieces of a puzzle together. They see or hear something that doesn’t coincide with what they believe so they ignore it as if it never existed. What they don’t realise is that sometimes the most improbable but simple methods are what really crack open a mystery.

“S-so you’re admitting that we’re lovers?” Her voice squeaked out, nearly breaking towards the end. She gulped. “You do know what lovers do right?”

I thought back to what John normally did with his girlfriends. He often took them out to dinner, had them over or spent the night with them. Of course, I’m completely baffled by what activity he could had possibly had that would had lasted him an entire night but I never found myself interested enough to ask about it. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“When exactly were you planning to tell me?”

“I wouldn’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Which was odd since I typically planned everything ahead of time to ensure that all the right moves would be made. But it would seem that she remained the one person whose habits and reactions I couldn’t gauge. Clearly something was clouding my judgement but what?

“We’re lovers,” she said aloud in attempts of reaffirming herself that it wasn’t a misunderstanding. Once the shock finally settled down, she spoke up. “You do realise that we’re far from an average couple, right?”

“We’re far from average people.”

“People will talk.”

“They do little else.”

She was the first to start chuckling and I soon followed in her stead. Before we knew it, the two of us had reached our destination and were on the doorstep. I gently placed her back onto the ground. She smiled warmly at me. It was a genuine smile that matched the merry look in her eyes.

There was a question that had been on my mind for quite some time. And seeing how she was in such a good mood, I decided that it was better now than never. Tck. Now that I’m in a relationship, am I always going to refer to cliches? “So why is it that despite being bothered about the whole ordeal with the female sender of my texts, you haven’t bothered to ask me to explain any of the incidents that occurred?” I knocked on the door.

“Because Sherlock… I trust you.”

I felt a flutter going over my chest. Shaking my head, I dismissed it as a gentle breeze.

“Sherlock?” she called out slightly confused by my gesture.

“It’s nothing.” This time, she arched a brow- mirroring my earlier movement. “There was a strange gust of wind sweeping by.” Knock.

“No there wasn’t.” Her head tilted once again, causing my coat to fall off her shoulder and onto her arm. “You might be coming down with something. Maybe you should take your coat back.”

“Keep it on. You’ll need it more than I do. Besides, it was just a slight brush past my chest. It’s not as if I’m going to catch the plague.”

“Wait. The only place the breeze passed was your chest?” she asked curiously before her lips pursed into a smile.

“That wasn’t a breeze. You felt your heart skip a beat.” Her tone of voice moved in a sing-song fashion.

“Highly unlikely, I’m perfectly healthy.” There were no ailments or fatal conditions in my bloodline and I lived a healthy lifestyle so it wasn’t as if I had any sort of heart related illnesses.

She shook her head playfully before taking a step closer. “It’s a figure of speech about when you’re attracted to someone.”

“Me? Attracted to someone?” I scoffed before proceeding to roll my eyes. Sherlock Holmes physically or emotionally attached to someone romantically? Ha. I’d be the last person on the Earth to do such a thing.

“That is one of the many things lovers do.”

I clicked my tongue in annoyance. “Less than ten minutes have past and it’s already become tedious.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I hope not.”

“Admit it Sherlock. You’re the one who decided we were lovers in the first place,” she teased, placing her hands behind her back and bending over at an angle to stick her tongue out like a child. “Oh and since I’ve answered one of your questions, you have to answer one of mine.”

“I never agreed to anything of the sort.” What in the blazes was she talking about? Neither one of us said that we were going to go back and forth with questions like a typical pair of normal human beings. I could only hope for the day where face-to-face contact was completely replaced with digital messages.

“It’s only fair if you answer one of my own questions,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Earlier, you mentioned that there was one remaining fact that proved that I wasn’t interested in my date. What was it?”

I shrugged, placing my hands into my trouser pockets. Small white flakes of snow had started to fall, decorating the dimly lit streets with bits of white here and there. I hadn’t even noticed the declining temperature and the lack of sound around us.

“Isn’t it obvious? Clearly, you aren’t interested in your date because you’re already in love with someone else.” Her cheeks flushed, both from a mix of embarrassment and lack of heat. “Dilated pupils.” I took a step closer so that our chests nearly met. “Flared nostrils.” I craned my head downwards so that our eyes would meet. “Unconscious biting of your bottom lip.” My hand reached out to meet one of hers which was nearly half the size of my own. I slid my fingers down her wrist and to her pulse. “Elevated heart rate. I would imagine that John thinks that I am clueless about love but the chemistry behind it is rather simple and very destructive.”

“I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“Have I?” I asked mischievously as I wrapped an arm around her back.

She grinned. “Yes, you have. Three months ago. And if I recall correctly, you mirrored my movements and stole my umbrella.”

“I didn’t steal. You left it. I’m not a thief.” I muttered softly to myself as I kept my other hand cupped around her back.

“Yes, you are.” She stood up on the tips of her toes and leaned in, planting her soft lips atop of my frozen cheek. “You stole my heart.”

With a scoff, I replied, “At least I’m not the only one thinking in cliches.”

She playfully striked my chest before winching as her heels clicked back on the icy pavement. “Well? What now?”

“Ahem.” We both glanced over at the source of the sound which was clad in a new holiday jumper. “Well for one, you two could come inside so I can take a look at her injury before you two freeze to death.”

“Sorry John.”