BBC Watson x Reader Chpt. 35- Pancakes

John woke up the next morning with his arms still wrapped around you tightly. You looked so peaceful as you softly huffed warm air onto his skin in your sleep. He pushed a strand of hair away from your face and gently traced your cheek, trying to memorize every detail of this moment.

Shifting from underneath you carefully, he slid a pillow under your head as he got up so you could sleep a bit longer. He quietly pulled on his trousers and jumper from the night before and then ducked out of the room.

He was in the kitchen when Sherlock came home a little over an hour later, the man hesitantly peeking around the door to make sure he wasn’t going to get reprimanded, and John just chuckled, “ Relax Sherlock. She’s still asleep.”

He let out a relieved sigh and settled down in his chair just as you emerged from John’s room, wearing his shirt and boxers as you sleepily rubbed at your eyes and gave a small yawn. Sherlock frowned at you as you ruffled your hair and headed to the kitchen, your bare feet padding silently across the flat’s cold floor.

“Whatever you’re making, it smells fantastic,” you hummed as you wrapped yourself around John from behind.

He grinned, “Good morning love.”  

He could feel you giggle into his back before you pulled away to get a mug for tea and glanced over to watch you stand on your toes to reach into the cabinet, smirking at the marks, his marks, from the night before that were visible on your skin.  

Just as you pulled the mug down he took it from your hand, “I’ve got it. You go sit.”

You pouted, “But-“

He cut you off with a kiss, “Can’t you just let me spoil you a bit?”

You gave him a quick peck on the lips and then nuzzled into his neck to kiss the love bite you’d left him, making him shiver, “Fine. Just this once.”

You swished out to the living room and offered Sherlock a grin as you teased, “Good Morning Sherly. How was your night?”

He just glared at you and you chuckled, settling into John’s chair with your feet pulled up underneath you. John came out a minute later with a plate and a mug and handed both to you. You blinked at it for a second, before you lips spread into a wide grin, “Pancakes?”

John faltered for a second, “Do you not like pancakes?”

You giggled, “I love pancakes, it’s been years since I’ve had any. Thank you John.”

He grinned proudly, glad that his choice had pleased you so much, and Sherlock rolled his eyes, “You two are so obvious.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, picking up a pancake with your hand instead of using a fork, “Being obvious is not always necessarily a bad thing.”  

You proceeded to roll it up like a taco so you could dip it in syrup and then eat it, a look of pure bliss on your face as the flavors hit your tongue, and John leaned over to kiss your temple, murmuring, “I’m glad you like it,” before going back to the kitchen.

Sherlock watched you eat the rest of your pancakes, you looked happier than he’d seen you in a while, since even before you left. The things he’d noticed that night you had allowed him to read you were gone, the corners of your mouth now turning up instead of down and your eyes filled with a sparkle of something new. It pleased him and he reasoned that maybe you were right, being obvious was not always a bad thing.

You were just finishing your last pancake when your phone rang from across the room and you bounced up to answer it with a grin. The conversation was short but when you hung up you had a wide satisfied grin on your face, “I’ve got to go to work.”

John tilted his head in confusion from his place at the living room table but you offered him no explanation as you quickly placed a kiss on his cheek, “Thanks for breakfast love,” and then placed one on your brother’s, “I’m sorry for kicking you out and thank you for not coming back till now.”

Before either of them could respond you had disappeared into the other part of the flat and John didn’t dare ask Sherlock what was going on for fear of having his intelligence insulted again.

You bounced back out less than an hour later, your hair pinned back so only certain curls fell around your face and your face done up with simple yet striking make up. You wore a pair of dark wash jeans under a simple white boat neck sweater and what looked to be one of Sherlock’s dark navy blazers with the sleeves rolled up to reveal the white and blue pinstripe lining. The whole look as finished of with a pair of brown high heeled ankle booties and a teal scarf that you wrapped around your neck before pulling on your usual midnight blue, almost black, outer coat.

“Is that my blazer?” Sherlock asked raising an eyebrow as you came to look at yourself in the mirror above the fireplace.

“Mhmm. Most of my things are still at Mycroft’s so I had to improvise. You hardly wear this one anyways.”

“You could have borrowed one of mine.” John offered and you stopped what you were doing and scowled, “I didn’t even think of that. It would have fit better too.”

You sighed, “No matter. I don’t have time to change now.”

John tilted his head to accept the kiss you bent to give him, “Thank you love. I’ll wear yours next time. Have a good day.”

You then made your way to the door calling over your shoulder, “Do try and keep out of trouble while I’m gone Lock.”  

“No promises Key.” He answered with a smirk and with that you were off.

Over the next two months you felt like you truly had your life back together and that it was quite possibly even better than before.

Loyal clients flocked back to you once they heard you were back to being a personal stylist again, bringing with them an array of new people who were in need of your services. Life with Sherlock and John was always entertaining and when you had time, which was often as you set your own hours, you joined them on cases.

You were happy, really truly happy, and any one who knew you noticed, especially your brothers.

As for John... well you and John couldn’t get enough of each other whether it was going to practice knife throwing at the Yard (which often ended with you pressed up against the cork wall), nipping out to the café or dinner at Angelo’s, or just snuggling on the couch.

Sherlock had long since accepted your relationship with John as something good for all of you as he and John fought less when you were around and John was almost as protective of you as he was. Almost.

The icing on the cake was that you hadn’t had any nightmares since that night with John, you reasoned that it was because you felt safe in his arms every night and that you had needed to get everything out.

Life was good. It really was.