Two Souls: BBC Sherlock X Reader: Ch. 2

    

    "'Ello!  You must be (Name)!" she greeted.

    "Uhh, yeah.  How did you-"

    "Oh, John phoned me and told me you were coming.  I'm Mrs. Hudson, by the way,"she introduced and moved aside to usher you in, " Come in, come in!  I'll fix you a cuppa, then we'll have a little chat."

    You thankfully nodded, "Thank you, ma'am."  You followed Mrs. Hudson past a staircase and through a door.

    "You can just set your things over on the sofa and I'll get you all fixed up," she said before disappearing into the kitchen area.

    You dropped your three bags, full of every single thing you owned, and joined Mrs. Hudson.  Her back was to you so you slid over quietly so you didn't startle her.

    She didn't look up from the kettle as she asked, "So, (Name), how old are you?"  Her hands were busy with the two mugs as she awaited your answer.

    You raised a brow at her question.  "I'm twenty-eight.  Just turned, actually," you answered, fumbling with your phone in your pocket.

    Mrs. Hudson handed you a mug and smiled.  "Still a young one, then.  Now, John tells me you were in the military?  Were you two stationed together?" she asked, leading you back to the living room.

    She sat in a large chair while you made yourself comfortable on the sofa.  You blew on the warm tea as Mrs. Hudson sipped hers.  You settled your mug on your jean-clad knees before answering her question.  "I met John during training.  A stray bullet grazed me and sent me to the infirmary, and that's where we met.  Fortunately as well as unfortunately, I was incredibly accident prone," you ran your fingers over the smooth surface of the cup, "so the more I was sent, the more I saw John."  

    You sipped on your hot tea as Mrs. Hudson grinned, "He was just so excited when he phoned earlier.  Oh!  He told me to tell you he wouldn't be home until later.  He and Sherlock are on a case."

    A confused look crossed your face, "Sherlock?  A case?"

    She waved a hand dismissively.  "I'm sure John will explain everything later on.  And you'll meet Sherlock, too.  Now, let's discuss the living arrangements."

    As Mrs. Hudson rambled on you found your thoughts wondering far away.  Out of all the amazing things that had happened to you today, you just couldn't get your mind off of one thing, or person, in particular: The man with the stunning cheekbones and deep chocolate curls.  You felt your cheeks heat up slightly and your heart pounded deep in your chest.  You felt like you knew him, but had never met the man a day in your life.  Attempting to shake off the feeling, you tried to pay attention to Mrs. Hudson.

    A loud slam from the front door caused both of you to jump slightly.  Mrs. Hudson let out a sigh and smiled sweetly.  "Ah, it seems the boys are already home!  Let's go meet up with them, shall we?"  She placed her mug on the coffee table and you followed suit.

    Just as the two of you had opened her door, another slam came from a door upstairs.  Moments later, the front door opened again and an exasperated John stumbled in, struggling to catch his breath.  "My word, Sherlock put in a bad mood, then?" Mrs. Hudson questioned, a knowing look on her face.

    John nodded as he straightened up.  "He solved the case well before we arrived, however, Anderson attempted to prove him wrong."

    Mrs. Hudson grimaced, "How bad was it?"

    "Just his eye, this time," John replied, "It wasn't easy pulling Sherlock off of him."  He locked eyes with you and his face brightened up instantly.  "So?  What do you think, (Name)?"

    Before you could answer, Mrs. Hudson began speaking.  "I was just telling (Name) that the basement flat is under renovations," you gave her a confused look, then realized she must have said something about it while you were daydreaming of your Mystery Man, "and won't be finished for a little over a month."  

    John gave a little frown, "Oh, that's... Unfortunate."

    "Mrs. Hudson!" a deep voice bellowed from above.  She sputtered a bit and moved to ascend to the second floor, leaving you and John.

    John crossed his arms, deep in thought.  "I could have sworn there was nothing wrong with that flat." he mused.  You only smiled and linked your arm with his, catching his attention.

    "Don't worry, Johnny," you grinned, "I could always share a room with you."  Your teasing caused John to fumble over his words and almost trip over a step as you both followed Mrs. Hudson.  You chuckled at his reaction and gently nudged him as you reached the top of the second flight of stairs and entered the flat.

    There was quite a commotion between Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock.  He stalked about the flat, half mumbling to himself and half yelling about 'them'.  "Where are they, Mrs. Hudson?!" 

    She looked completely helpless as she innocently shrugged.  "I don't know, Sherlock.  You never let me touch your things." she reasoned, but it only caused the tall man to pace and mumble even more.

    As he did this, you were able to get a good look at him.  He was indeed the man you saw get into the cab with John earlier that day, and you had to admit his features were rather striking.  Then you noticed his eyes.  They were the color of the ocean water after a storm: Bright blue with specks of green and gold.  Although he wasn't looking at you, you found it so hard to look away from him.  John moved away from you and that shook you out of your little daydream.

    "Sherlock, you don't need them," he stated bluntly, pulling his laptop out of his satchel.

    "You know where they are," Sherlock stated, staring at John.

    John didn't look up from his laptop.  "Maybe, maybe not.  You've been doing just fine without your cigarettes, Sherlock." 

    This seemed to only irritate the tall man even more and he stormed off to the kitchen.  Mrs. Hudson took this as her cue to leave and scurried through the door and down the steps.  You were left standing awkwardly in the main room, shifting your weight quietly between your two feet.  John finally looked back up at you, "That was my flatmate I told you of."  He offered you an apologetic smile, "He's really not so bad."

    "WHERE ARE THEY?!" Sherlock's voice bellowed from the kitchen, followed by the sound of glass shattering.

    John sighed, "Well, most of the time he's pretty bad."

    You let out a chuckle as Sherlock angrily flew back into the living room.  He stormed past you and gracefully plopped down in a chair opposite John.  Then it was silent again.  Again, you awkwardly bounced on your feet.  "Soooo...," you drawled.

    "I remember you."  You looked up at Sherlock, signaling that you had heard him.  "You're the girl who was with John at the coffee shop," he stated.  

    You nodded, "Uh, yeah.  John is-"

    "An old friend of yours, yes.  From the military no doubt judging by your stature and the way you naturally stand at attention, quite similar to the first time I met John.  Also noted by your messy hair and re-worn jumper it seems as if you have been either dishonorably discharged or medically excused, and judging by your features I highly doubt it was the former: Summing it up, you are homeless.  Staying in a hotel no doubt, else you would be staying with a relative or friend.  Also, by the way you hold your posture it would appear as if said injury to cause your removal would be on your shoulder, left precisely." Sherlock finished, keeping his eyes locked with yours the whole time.

    Your mouth hung open in utter awe as your brain processed what had just happened.  John stood from his chair and moved to you, slight anger set on his face.  "Jesus, Sherlock, you don't even know her name and you just-"

    "Fantastic!" 

    Looks of shock and confusion crossed both John's and Sherlock's faces as you grinned.  You scurried over to Sherlock, your eyes still locked on his from when he made his lengthy deduction. 

    "That was amazing, Sherlock!" 

    John opened, closed, then opened his mouth again.  "Wait... He didn't offend you with the messy hair or the homeless bit?"

    You looked over your shoulder, a large grin plastered on your lips.  "Nope.  I thought it was marvelous.  And he's right," you tugged slightly at your grey jumper, "I suppose I do appear to be a bit homeless.  And I technically still am..."

    As you were speaking, you were facing John. and this gave Sherlock time to inspect you closer.  You were tall and slender, the jumper looking a tad large on you.  And yes, your hair was indeed messy, but that did no injustice to your bright (e/c) eyes and soft face.  However, he did notice the worry on your features and the bags beneath your eyes.  You looked weary and, while it usually wouldn't bother him, he felt an odd and unfamiliar sensation in his chest.

    "You can stay here."

    You and John both halted your conversation and looked to the man seated in the large chair.  "What?"  The word came out of both of you simultaneously.

    Sherlock drummed his fingers along the arm of his chair as he racked his brain for something to carry along.  "Can you make tea?"

    You blinked in slight confusion, "Uhm... Yes, I can."

    "Sherlock, what is this about?" John questioned.

    "She can't stay in the basement flat," he droned, "I conducted an experiment down there yesterday."  His eyes flashed from you, to John, and back to you.

    "What kind of- You know what?  I won't even bother asking." John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

    "Now," Sherlock stood, "You've been to war."

    You shrunk down a little, "Yes.  I was stationed in Afghanistan until six months ago..."

    "What department?"

    "Uhm... Interrogation and-"

    His eyes lit up only slightly.  "So you questioned people."  He seemed to be stating things rather than questioning you.

    You nodded.  "Yes.  Either witnesses or suspects."  John only watched on, equally as confused as you were.

    Sherlock neared you and you felt your heart beating in your ears.  "John and I have a very fast paced profession."

    John chuckled under his breath, "Profession..."

    Sherlock's eyes never left yours.  "We solve cases and work hand in hand with the police.  However, due to the fact that John," he looked behind you to John, "now has a time consuming job as a doctor, I will be in need of assistance on my cases."

    John's eyes widened sightly and he placed a hand on your shoulder, "(Name), you don't have to answer right now.  You don't even have to say yes if you dont want to."

    "I would like an answer right now," Sherlock counter suggested, "Preferably a yes."

    You looked back and forth between the males when suddenly a phone started to ring.  Sherlock retrieved the little electronic from his coat and placed it to his ear for only a moment.  A crooked little smile crossed his lips as his eyes landed on you again.  He stuck his phone back into his coat, "It seems I'm going to need your answer, (Name)."

    Nervously you chewed on your lip and John's hand tightened on your shoulder.  You had just gotten here and now this strange man was practically demanding you to to God knows where.  "(Name), you don't have to-"

    You took in a deep breath.  "I... I guess I could just see."

    "So that's a yes then."

    Before you knew it Sherlock was ushering you out of the flat, John close in tow.  "Wait," you attempted to slow the tall man, "How does any of this explain where I'm going to be actually living?!"

    He seemed to not hear you as he shoved you into a cab and got in with you, John bringing up the rear.

    "You can stay in my room," Sherlock replied as he glanced out the cab window.  John deadpanned and you felt a warmness in your cheeks.  Sherlock realized the silence and added on, "I hardly sleep anyways, and when I do it is usually on the sofa.  Nothing more than a kind gesture to a friend of John's."

    The rest of the ride was in a now awkward silence, as you were being whisked away to wherever.