Exception || Sherlock Holmes x Reader

➳ Chapter Two

One Year Later

"Bye, freak," Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan says as you leave the crime scene.

"See you later." Bitch.

You casually walk away without looking back. In all honesty, the little nickname doesn't bother you at all, although you think it's incredibly rude to say to someone who just helped you.

You brush it off as you watch the sunset begin to disappear from the horizon. You approach the door to 221B and twist the doorknob open before scaling the steps and entering the main room. You sigh, throw off your jacket, fall onto the couch. Before you know it, you've fallen into a blissful and much needed sleep.

♖♖♖

An ear-peircing scream rips you away from your slumber and you're on your feet and scrambling down the staircase before you even open your eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as you hurriedly reach the bottom of the staircase to see an unexpected sight.

Mrs. Hudson is standing with a frying pan and a recognizable man is approaching her as the door shuts behind him.

"Sherlock?" you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Mrs. Hudson finally calms down and Sherlock wraps his arms around her and begins to explain the situation before turning to you.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" his deep, baritone voice asks.

"(Y/N) (L/N). I've been doing your work while you've been dead," you reply boredly.

"Is that so?" he ponders as you lead him up the building.

"I work for Mycroft-"

Sherlock cuts you off. "Of course. That explains it."

You roll your eyes and continue. "Scotland Yard was having trouble solving cases, so about a year ago, Mycroft asked me to basically become you until you returned."

"So you've been living in my flat and replicating my life?"

You push open the door. "Exactly." You let Sherlock enter the room first as he thoroughly scans the place.

"Where is all my stuff?" he asks.

"In your room. Scotland Yard boxed it up and it's suspicious to have them laying around when clients come over," you reply, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall.

"I assume you've taken John's room then? Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft have told me he's moved on."

"Yes. I've kept tabs on him while you've been away. Also, I assume I'll be allowed to stay considering John won't be coming back?" you question a little too hopefully.

Sherlock puts his arms behind his back before narrowing his eyes and taking a step toward you.

"You're smart, confident, and dependable. No family, no friends, but you try to look out for those around you. You're an incredibly tidy person, considering the state of this place," he pauses with a confused expression. "That's all I can deduce. Must be rusty."

Sherlock turns his back to you and walks into the kitchen, looking through the stocked fridge and cabinets.

You stand there with a small smile. It's amazing he got that much from knowing you for all of five minutes, but now it's your turn. You may have a little advantage since you took a peak in his file.

"Mind if I try?" you question him innocently.

"Try what?" he responds.

"Deduce you. I think it'll be fun."

"I suppose," he sighs, turning toward you with his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes, high-functioning sociopath with an addiction to solving crimes. Sharp and narrow cheekbones suggest another addiction, but to drugs and smoking. You unconsciously drive people away with your eccentric personality, but you're incredibly lonely. I can tell you wear that coat often, from newspaper articles, suggesting it's like a security blanket. It gives you a sense of coverage and privacy, that's why you only take it off when you're at home."

Sherlock stands with slightly widened eyes. "That was, um, impressive."

"You shouldn't be impressed. Look at the facts. Why would your brother ask me to become you if I couldn't deduce at least that much?" you rhetorically ask.

Sherlock doesn't answer but insteads walks between the two chairs in front of the fireplace. "You kept it."

"I like skulls. Helps me think and I like to talk to it since I have no one else to," you shrug, walking over and sitting down in Sherlock's chair.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks dryly.

"I like this seat. It has a view of the entire room and the flow of brain particles coincide with the position of the chair," you say simply.

"I-I never thought anyone understood that," Sherlock almost whispers but keeps his face blank.

"Well, it's obvious to me."

You reach over to the desk where your laptop is and grab a file with WATSON plastered on the front. You peel it open and take out the first page, handing it to the man towering over your form.

"This is where John will be tonight with his girlfriend, Mary Morstan. I don't know how much I recommend immediately springing the news upon people since they've been thinking you've been dead for two years, but good luck." You smile as he takes the sheet of paper.

Sherlock looks as if he's still trying to figure you out. You talk to him as if you're old friends, which he's not used to. When people hear him talk, they usually insult him and scamper away. But not you. No, you instantly treated him like a regular person although you knew exactly who he is and how he acts.

Maybe it's because the two of you share obvious similarities. Sherlock can't exactly tell how you so easily deduced him because Mycroft couldn't have guessed half of what you said.

"Thank you," Sherlock says, heading toward the door.

"You still didn't answer my question."

Sherlock looks over his shoulder. "Yes."

You smile and toss the file back onto the desk. Sherlock walks away and you hear the door click shut as he exits the flat. You knew he wouldn't say no and the whole thing went better than you expected.

You lean your head back and close your eyes as you drift off to let yourself vividly imagine how the reunion will go between Sherlock and John.

You know that he went to see a therapist for a while, meaning he was emotionally effected by his best friend's death enough that he needed professional help. That alone can only mean he'll either be incredibly happy to see his best friend or incredibly angry. Putting yourself in John's shoes and the fact that he's a man, you assume some punches will be thrown.

All that's left is to take a little time away from cases to work out everything and let the world know that Sherlock Holmes is alive. This adventure definitely won't be boring at all.