Observers- BBC Sherlock x Reader Chpt. 2

You got back to the flat a few hours later, out of breath with a flushed face, pulling the door shut quickly behind you and rushing to the window. Sherlock watched you from his chair. “You’ve been running from someone.”

John walked in just as he said it and gawked at you, incredulously asking, “What’ve you done now?”

Your eyes searched the street – maybe you’d lost them, after all. “Why do you always assume I’ve done something?”

You inhaled quickly and pressed yourself against the wall next to the window, out of sight of those on the street below. Sherlock got up to see who you were trying to evade and his gaze found a couple of police officers below, glancing around confusedly.

John joined him just as the two turned and went back the way they came, answering you, “Maybe because you rarely haven’t… Care to explain why you’re hiding from the bobbies?”

You peeked around the wall to see if they were gone and let out a giggle. “It’s not my fault they don’t like you climbing the Wellington Arch. Really, there should be a sign.”

Sherlock couldn’t hide the smirk that tugged at his lips and John stared for a moment before setting into you. “You’ve been here less than a day and you’ve beat up some guy on the train – I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it – and now you’re climbing monuments like a bloody ape! Is going five minutes without you being in trouble with the law too much to ask? Bullocks to the law, can’t you stay out of trouble in general? Or are you just drawn to it like a magnet? Do I even want to know why you were climbing the Wellington Arch? What if you’d fallen? What was going through your head? Oh, I know; probably some deluded need to see if you’d get caught…”

You tuned him out as he continued to lecture, going to sit down in his chair. He didn’t even realize you weren’t listening as you flipped through the sketches you’d gotten before the law had arrived. The angle hadn’t been quite right from the ground, so it was either the Arch or a tree, and the Arch gave a better view.

Sherlock came and stood behind you, looking over the rough sketches with a raised eyebrow, and then quietly rumbled, “The angle is much better from higher off the ground.”

You didn’t look up or respond, you just grinned and a second later John abruptly stopped, “You aren’t even listening to me, are you?”

“Nope,” You replied nonchalantly, adding details to your drawings from memory.

He sighed and flopped down in Sherlock’s chair, muttering, “What I am going to do with you, Squeak?”

You shrugged. “You could stop worrying so much and just go with it. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer.”

He examined you for a moment before he noticed the sketchbook on your lap, realizing suddenly why you’d done it – the same reason you did anything like that. For art.

He got up to take Sherlock’s place over your shoulder when the man disappeared into the recesses of the apartment. “Did you at least get something good out of all that?”  

You held the book up over your head for him to take, offering, “See for yourself,” and then went to the kitchen. “I’m starving, John. What have you got besides tea?”

He was too busy looking over your sketches to register your question properly. “I dunno. Check the fridge.”

Sherlock walked back in just as there was squeal from the kitchen. John’s eyes widened when he realized where he’d just sent you and both men rushed to the kitchen.

To their surprise, you had a large grin on your face, “There’s a head in the fridge! Oh, Sherlock, can I draw it? Please, please, please?”

John gave a small smile and shook his head; you always were a strange one. “How’d you know it was his?”

You and Sherlock both rolled your eyes at him and replied in sync, “Cause it’s obviously not yours. Really, John.”

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at you over the fact that your words mirrored his exactly, but you didn’t seem to notice. You were too occupied with giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Please, Sherlock?”

He looked from you to the fridge and back. “You’re going to do it no matter what my answer is, so I suppose that would be alright. Just don’t touch.”

You gave a single hop and clapped your hands together in joy. “I promise, I won’t!”