BBC Sherlock Imagines (Book 2)

Sherlock: Life As We Know It (Part 2)

"What are we going to tell Clarice?" you whispered, staring up at the ceiling. Sherlock shifted beside you, but when you glanced over he was still facing towards the ceiling. His look was unreadable. His lips were parted slightly, and he ran his tongue over them to wet them. You sighed, feeling your stomach twist in an excited manner. He was so handsome. You had noted that the first time you met him, of course his arsehole manner had made you blind to it. No doubt he was still an arse, an emotionless one at that, but living in the same house as him and raising Rosie together this last month had opened your eyes to the better.

"Are you going to keep staring at me like that, or help me think of something?"

You blushed, not realizing that he had probably knew you were staring at him the whole time. You went to turn away back towards the ceiling when he adjusted his head towards you and smirked. He liked you staring at him, you could tell. "We could tell her the truth," you suggested.

"Amazing," breathed Sherlock, and you gave him a questioning look.

"What?" you asked.

"Oh nothing." He moved his arms out from underneath the covers and rested them under his head. You tried not to stare at his flexing biceps under his t shirt. "Just that sometimes you appear to be smarter than the average human, other times dumber."

"Are you calling me stupid?" you teased, inching a centimeter closer to him. You could feel the heat from his body coaxing you over.

"Don't take offense to it. I think all people are stupid."

You shook your head, finding his insults more funny than, well, insulting. A month ago you would have rolled your eyes and walked away, or said something back just as mean. But now you stayed laying in bed next to him, not wanting to be anywhere else in the world. "But seriously Sherlock, what do we tell her? I mean last time she was here we told her again that there was nothing. Then it changed that same night."

It was true. Clarice had come for her two week checkup and you both had reassured her again that there was nothing. Not a hint of feelings between you two. She gave you both that disbelieving look, then threatened again of her return in a month. Next, Rosie's grandparents called and had offered to pick her up for the night, leaving you and Sherlock alone for the first time since the accident. You had planned on just reading, maybe taking care of some work business, but then you had heard Sherlock yelling at the TV in the living room. When you were going to yell at him to shut up, you realized that he was watching Titanic, and was yelling at Rose for not letting Jack on the wooden panel when there was obviously enough room.

"It's just a movie Sherlock," you had said.

"Based on true events. Imagine if someone as stupid as Rose had been real and just left the," he put his fingers up in air quotes, "'love of her life' to die. Well, I imagine he dies."

"You've never seen this before?" you asked. "It's a classic."

"I don't waste my time watching fictional nonsense that will in not in any way improve my intellect."

"Might improve your heart," you muttered.

"My heart functioning is quite good actually," he responded. "55 beats per minute." You rolled your eyes. You both sat there in silence watching the rest of the movie. When the credits finally rolled across the screen, Sherlock jumped up from the couch, heading to the bookcase in the corner that held more movies than books. You were just getting up from the armchair you had so comfortably sat in, when he turned around almost bumped into you. He held two movies in his hands. "'The Wizard of Oz' or 'Inception'?" he asked.

"You've never seen either of these?" you asked. He just shook his head no. "You sad deprived man," you sighed. "Inception. You're brain will find it a challenge."