Warning: Mild swearing, vulgarity
A peal of snorting laughter passed my lips uncontrollably. People on the other tables of the coffee shop glanced at Jeremy and me as we howled with delight.
"You kissed a donkey's ass?" I gasped when I could speak coherent words again.
"Like I said! Not my fault!" He smiled and sipped his mug. "My mate in college thought it'd be fun to set me up, right? So I said 'go for it, mate.' And what do you know, he gets me incredibly drunk off my ass--" I snorted in a very ladylike fashion at the euphemism. "--and convinces me that a very pretty lady is waiting for me up in my flat. I go up there and kiss this very pretty lady. Turns out it wasn't a lady, but rather the ass of an ass."
Laughter burst out of me at the imagery and Jeremy joined me in chuckling. "Yeah they talked about it for months until I caught my mate, his name's Patrick, by the way, stripping with a couple of the guys that were known notoriously for being a little 'cozy' with one another, if you know what I mean, in front of the faculty office after curfew."
"What? No way!"
"Yes! I wasn' the only one to see it, too. Needless to say, he kept his mouth shut about the ass for a while after that."
"Man," I slumped into my chair. "That sounds so wild. I remember when I was in college the craziest thing I ever did was--" Before I could tell of my miraculous and daring adventures of stealing milk from the lunch hall, my phone buzzed. I checked it to see that Sherlock had texted me.
"Sorry," I apologized before looking at the text.
World's Best Consulting Ass: Come quick, if convenient. Urgent case. Not to be missed
I sighed. "Sherlock needs me." I looked up at Jeremy whose eyebrows shot up at the mention of Sherlock. "I'm sorry. We can continue this another time if you'd like?"
Jeremy grinned so wide I thought his face might break. "That'd be great. And don't worry about leaving. My coworkers tell me Sherlock's a bit of a hassle."
I felt a tinge of annoyance at the passive aggressive jab at Sherlock but brushed it off. "Thank you. I'll text you later." We parted and I gave Sherlock a replying text:
Me: Let me guess. "If inconvenient come anyways"? I'm on my way.
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The excitement and tension sparked against my skin as I entered the flat. Sherlock was practically bouncing off the walls as he paced back and forth. He noticed my presence and grinned in a way that made a small part of me want to put him in a mental hospital, but the look also made me smile back.
"Oh, good you're here. We can leave now." He rushed past me to grab his things. "I'll explain things in the cab.
"You know, you could've told me to meet you somewhere?" I said, following him. "That way you wouldn't have had to wait."
"I wouldn't have any time to explain thing then, now would I?" He leaped down the stairs, giving me no time to respond. I tagged along until he had hailed a cab and were heading to the scene.
"So what's the case, Locksy?" I asked.
Sherlock frowned at the nickname choice. I personally found it fashionable. "How many cases of mine do you know of?"
"Let's see...there's a Study in Pink, the Blind--"
"Alright, so you know the one I wish to speak of, although I disapprove of John's choice of title. Anyway, where we're going the case is somewhat like that. Different people, of course, but what seems to be the same scenario."
"Why do they need you? Actually, more importantly, why do you need me?"
"To answer the first question, Lestrade said that they never took a cab, so the culprit is still a mystery and they need my help to solve a said mystery. As for the second question, John is busy with Rosie again and the second best available company was you."
I ignored the sinking feeling swarming around my gut and instead painted a smirk on my face. "Gee, you sure know how to charm a girl, dontcha?"
Sherlock stayed silent and turned toward the window, most likely pouting again. I was about to do the same until an idea popped into my head. Hiding my smile I faced toward the curly haired detective.
"Say," I said, trying my best posh Londoner accent. "I think I might be getting a cold. What do you think?"
Sherlock looked at me with a baffled and amused expression on his face. "What are you doing?"
I smiled, before making myself sound more fanciful. "Merely talking to you, good sir."
The consulting detective exhaled softly with a small smile. "Your accent is atrocious. You sound like a Russian Australian if that could even be a thing."
"Oh reeaaally?" I drawled out my accent to make it sound even more cringy.
Sherlock feined dramatic fainting. "Oh the terrible-ness of the Russian-Australian accent. What shall I do? Oh, I know." He clears his throat. "Howdy, pardner." A perfect Southern drawl came from his lips.
"Oh my God," I said in my normal accent. "Slow down there, cowboy."
We giggled ourselves silly until we reached the scene of the crime. Then we painted our war faces on (which just so happened to be goofy smiles) and waltzed out onto the scene.
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A/N: IT'S SHORT I KNOW I CAN'T WRITE LONGERISH CHAPTERS DJDKKFKDKD
Sherlock is a little OOC, but that's fine....right?
Anywho, hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!
--Kris
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Another World | SherlockxReader Fanfic
Fanfiction(Y/N) (L/N) was just another Fangirl who had been given the opportunity to go somewhere amazing: London. However, while she's there she somehow finds herself trapped inside of here favorite television series, Sherlock. What will happen when she can...
