A/n at the end.
Someone I Used To Know
It was another four days before I saw him again. This time it wasn't at Bart's.
I had just closed the front door and was in the process of hanging my coat when there was a knock at the door. Wondering who it could be I looked through the peep hole and was greeted by the sight of Sherlock holding a bag of takeaway from my favorite Thai place.
Sighing, I opened the door I had closed moments before and positioned myself in the doorway, blocking his entrance.
"I'd rather not have this discussion in the hall," he said in greeting. "And the food will go cold if we don't eat it soon."
"We? The food is coming inside, but I'm uncertain about you," I replied. I was going to be strong. I was going to be strong and I was going to not let him in… right away.
"Prior to the events that lead to my fake death, I was known for keeping to myself and rarely being seen with people beyond John or Lestrade," He said with a slight huff, the bag of food nearly forgotten at his side. "I don't want questions to be asked about your involvement. They will be, but I'd prefer they be dismissed quickly. I've photographers and journalists around me nearly constantly since the shooting, I needed them to lose interest."
"And in the mean time what? You were worried they where taping your phone as well? You couldn't even send a text to say, oh sorry for popping off the other day so quickly, will sneak by yours later?" I asked. "And even then, I'm use to you going off for periods of time, even doing dangerous things, and I haven't forced you in to discussing them when you didn't want to. I've simply patched you up, made sure you ate and slept and stayed healthy while you went on this revenge trip."
The food dropped to the floor and Sherlock moved closer to me.
"I was caught up in everything," He said resting a hand on my waist. "I have missed you. But while trying to make sure no one asked questions about you I forgot that you most likely missed me too and I went back on my word to at least keep in contact with you when I can't be beside you."
His other hand cupped my cheek as he pulled me closer. We were both standing in the hallway as I slowly moved my arms to wrap around his waist.
"I can't always forgive you easily," I said.
"You could," he replied leaning forward so our foreheads touched.
"I can't," I replied. "I had to defend you to Mary the other day. So many of her questions echoed every doubt I have in my head. We were nearly shot and then you disappear with your brother to reappear in every newspaper in the country. Then a week later you appear at Bart's and rather than saying even a simple hello, you drink my coffee and ask for me to text test results to you. Nothing else. No hello. No asking how I am. No telling me about how you are," I paused and as he is about to respond I hold up my hand to stop him. "Mary and John think you were using me. Are you, was everything just part of your plan and now that you are back to being… to being you, I'm no longer needed? Do you want things to go back to how they where before? Because If you are going to break my heart, I'd rather you just get on with it."
"I want things to return to how they where previous," he replied and I tried to move away at his words but he quickly pulled me even closer to him. "But I still want you there beside me. I… I love you. And more importantly, I don't want to return to not having you to come home to."
I sighed and closed me eyes, moments later I felt lips against mine and I couldn't help but kiss him back. It was a rare vulnerable moment for him. The hesitation in his words alone, spoke volumes to me. And saying the love word was something he didn't think was strictly necessary. These moments were so few, could I really deny him when he was trying his best to open his heart to me? Could I push him out of my arms because I was annoyed that he hadn't texted in a few days?
I couldn't. Maybe I should have but I couldn't.
"The food is getting cold," I said as we broke apart at the sound of his stomach. "And you have obviously not eaten in awhile."
"You are having one of your mothering moments again," he said, rubbing his hands along my sides.
"I am. Lets go inside and eat. You also smell like you could use a shower. Then maybe I'll let you continue what you are trying to start," I said with a teasing smile.
"The food can be reheated," he said before being interrupted by his stomach once again.
I shook my head and quickly retrieved the bag at our feet. "You are like a teenager at times," I said with a shake of my head and small giggle.
I was woken from the best sleep I had experienced in weeks as Sherlock's phone began buzzing on the nightstand beside the bed. I tried to ignore it, but it kept going off. I glanced at the sleeping man beside me.
It had obviously been awhile since he had slept last and from our conversation last night over dinner, he revealed he had come straight here after wrapping the case he had been working on.
And while at times he could be an extremely light sleeper, when he had gone too long without sleep he tended to sleep deeply and disturbing him was practically pointless.
As the phone began to go off for the third time, I untangled an arm from Sherlock and reached for the buzzing phone.
DI Lestrade flashed on the screen. It was obviously important if he had called three times in a row now. With a sigh, I swiped at the screen to answer.
"Sherlock, there has been a triple homicide, one in three separate flats and all of the entrances to the flats where locked and un-tampered with. There is blood but no murder weapon in sight. There's no way they could have killed each other." Lestrade rattled off.
"Greg, hold on," I said. Pulling my other arm free from Sherlock to rub my eyes.
"Wait, who is this?" he replied.
"Molly, Molly Hooper. Sherlock is asleep."
"And you are answering his phone at three forty five in the morning because…" I could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Greg, he just finished his last case last night. He hasn't stopped for over a month; can't you let the poor man sleep for a night? Has Scotland Yard missed him so terribly that you need him on every case?"
As I finished my sentence the phone was pulled from my hand. I glance over to see that Sherlock hadn't really moved except to pull the phone from me and move it to his own ear.
"Lestrade, I distinctly remember telling you yesterday that the incompetence of the Yard would need to wait another week for my help. Look into the window cleaning company," He growled into the phone. The call was ended and the phone was tossed the floor.
Watching him, Sherlock ran his now empty hand through his hair.
"It's slowly growing back to normal," I mused moving so that we were eye level again and sharing a pillow. I moved a hand to also ruffle it.
"Is that really what you want to discuss at the moment?" he asked, pulling me closer to him. "Last I checked we are naked and in bed for the first time in over a month. Discussing my hair or answering calls from Lestrade isn't really how I'd prefer to spend it."
"I suppose you have a better idea?"
"Indeed, five, no six ideas actually," he replied before quickly closing the distance between us.
A/n: And that is it! I finished it! Thank you to everyone who has been following, review and liking the story! It kept me going and always made me feel guilty in between chapters that I wasn't updating quickly enough! I'm hoping to write a one shot/epilogue in the next week or two to tie up any lose ends left or questions left unanswered. If you have any suggestions or questions please leave them in a review or message! I can tell you that as of now I plan to call it 'Lace Dresses and Miscommunications'.
Once again, thank you for all of the support! It's been amazing!