SOCIOPATH'S ROMANCE // Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Chapter 22 - Scout's honor

The detective paced back and forth in the living room, his hands in their laconic prayer position. He'd been twisting and turning his mind day and night, unsure as to how to proceed. This was hard, very hard. Complex, dangerous perhaps? From his point of view, chasing murderers seemed safer than what was happening right now. 

He needed advice. Human advice, "John? John? Oh for god's sake... JOHN!", Sherlock called out to his faithful blogger. John was useful. Sometimes. 

"Alright, alright mate. What's going on?", John sighed as he came rushing in and signalling for Sherlock to stop bellowing in their flat. 

He turned to face John, studying every detail in a matter of minutes with his piercing blue gaze before asking, "How's Sarah, John?" 

John's face tensed a little before relaxing again. He said in a clipped tone, "She's fine. Totally fine." 

Sherlock tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows, immediately going on quick-fire mode, "You're lying. The tint of your eyes, your shave, creasing of eyebrows and slight twitch mean that you're considering breaking up with her. It also suggests some sort of frustration and anger, meaning you've had a fight recently." 

"Stop it now. You didn't call me here to talk about Sarah.", John grumbled. Something was up with Sherlock for he knew the detective always resorted to deductions to calm down and somehow as an exhaust port. Shooting things and talking to his skull were also exhaust ports, and they were just as destructive as his rapid deductions. 

"No I didn't.", Sherlock confirmed, turning back to the matter at hand, "Your love life isn't of much interest to me but I was 'conversing'." 

John decided to ignore what Sherlock had just said and settled in his iconic armchair, leaning back a little to watch the curly haired detetive, "Okay, so?" 

"I had a question.", admitted Sherlock who now looked at the carpeted and wooden ground. It annoyed him to not be able to understand himself but in this case, John was the man for it. For this case.

"You do? And you're asking me?", John did a huge and mocking grin,  "Hold up, is it my birthday? Did I win the lottery?" 

Sherlock shot him a dark glare accompanied by a scowl. He wanted to shut John up but right now, he needed his help as much as it hurt him to admit. The detective took a deep breath and blurted, "It's about Y/n." 

John's eyes widened and he bounded out of his chair, completely flabbergasted. The cold cup of tea on the table wavered. Sherlock, asking about a girl?, "WHAT?!" 

Sherlock huffed loudly, making his crisply ironed shirt rise and fall under his toned chest. Maybe he could ask Graham. Actually on second thoughts, John was still better. "Shut up. I wanted to know what you could tell me about her."

John kept grinning like a wolf yet shrugged in answer to the detective, "I dunno mate, you're the one who spends the most time with her, you know as geniuses." 

"High functionning sociopath.", Sherlock corrected going back to pacing in circles around the small and cluttered living room. 

Her footsteps were heard on the stairs, followed by the front door slamming behind her. Sherlock and John exhaled in unison when silence fell once more over 221 Baker Street. Sherlock rested his arms on the table, sleeves rolled up and tried to think.

"Maybe not for her though.", John quipped, gesturing to the outside of their flat that Y/n had just passed. "But why do you ask?"

"All things relating to human relations are below me and uncomprehensible therefore I ask your simple mind to analyse or translate them for me.", Sherlock stated now gazing through the curtains at her leaving the flat then back again on John was trying to understand what on earth was going on in his head.