#hidden affection

Loki: *appears* No need Darling, now rest, I will watch over you!

Warnings: mild swearing, a tiny bit of angst A/N: Hey again, since I just hit 100+ Followers I wanted to let you know how grateful I am for all the appreciation of my work and all the support! Thank you so much for being a part of this, this series honestly means a lot to me! Enjoy, and look forward for the next chapters! :)) Masterlist  Chapter Two  Chapter Four An ominous encounter Your cab had barely pulled up in front of 221b as the four of you – who had surprisingly fit into the cab all at once – hurried out of the car following a serious-looking Sherlock to the front-door. At this point you were full-on confused, why were you back at the flat? Weren’t you trying to find this place from the picture? You searched John’s and Lestrade’s expressions, but they seemed to be just as clueless as you were. Sherlock unlocked the door, but instead of heading up the stairs he walked straight towards Mrs. Hudson’s flat. After calling out her name he turned towards the door next to the flat, that you strangely had never acknowledged before. In that moment you understood. Gulping, a bad feeling started to fill your guts. The letters “221c” that were stuck to the door indicated that this was another flat. Something in the picture had seemed familiar and now you knew what it was: The fireplace had reminded you of the one from 221b. You had a premonition, that you would find something in this apartment that you surely wouldn’t like. Your thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Hudson who had opened her door and handed Sherlock a set of keys seeing how the latter had been examining the heavy lock that hang on the door in front of him. “You had a look, didn’t you, Sherlock, when you first came to see about your flat.”, the landlady concluded. Sherlock was still examining the lock closely even though he had already unlocked it. “The door’s been opened recently.”, he deduced affirming your premonition. “No, can’t be. That’s the only key.” Sherlock removed the padlock before opening the door with another key. “I can’t get anyone interested in this flat. It’s the damp, I expect. That’s the curse of basements.”, Mrs Hudson explained to you and John. “I didn’t even know it existed!”, you replied frowning. The Consulting Detective opened the door and stepped into the flat. The three of you followed leaving Mrs Hudson at the entrance who seemingly didn’t notice how tense all of you were. “I had a place once when I was first married. Black mould all up the walls ...”, she rambled on before Lestrade closed the door excluding her from the scene. The four of you walked down the stairs to the entrance of the living room. At the sight a shiver ran down your spine: The room was identical to the one in the photograph. The only thing that had changed were a pair of ominous-looking white trainers sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. The wallpaper was flaking off and the windows were partially covered by some sort of drape which just added to the spooky atmosphere. “Shoes.”, John stated plainly making you roll your eyes. Sometimes John was one of these people who only saw what they wanted to and ignored anything else. If you had learned anything from Sherlock this far, it was to look beyond the obvious and John had been living with him for month! “He’s a bomber, remember.”, your brother redeemed himself as Sherlock stepped forward to study the shoes closer. Well, you were wrong, he had picked up a few things. Sherlock lowered himself carefully to the ground to get a closer look. Just in that moment a phone ringed, making Sherlock refrain from continuing his investigation. Taking his gloves off the tall man pulled the pink phone from inside of his coat and looked at the screen. Curiously you stepped closer to Sherlock, but it simply showed that the I.D. was blocked. Meeting your brother’s eyes he looked at you with a frown. Taking another step backwards, Sherlock held the phone up to his mouth, putting the phone on speaker. “Hello?”, Sherlock answered calmly. “H-hello ... sexy.”, a shaky female voice replied between sobs. You frowned, exchanging looks with the other two men, confused as to why the woman on the other side of the line was crying. “Who’s this?”, the dark-haired man inquired. “I’ve ... sent you ... a little puzzle ... just to say hi.”, she stated continuing to sob. “Who’s talking? Why are you crying?”, Sherlock continued to ask intensely. “I-I’m not crying ... I’m typing ... and this ... stupid bitch ... is reading it out.” Shit. So, this was indeed the bomber and he was simply using this woman, so he wouldn’t be identified. He was playing with Sherlock, it was all just a silly game to him. “The curtain rises.”, Sherlock mumbled cryptically making you look at him questioningly. “What?”, John chimed in apparently having understood as much as you did. “Nothing.” “No, what did you mean?” “I’ve been expecting this for some time.” “Twelve hours to solve ... my puzzle, Sherlock ... or I’m going to be ... so naughty.”, the female voice said shakily before the call was ended abruptly. Without another word Sherlock picked the shoes up already on his way to leave the flat. “Sherlock, where are we going now?, you asked with a sigh, seeing how Sherlock never explained anything. “We’re following the lead the bomber gave us. There are things that these shoes can tell us with further analysis, but we need the right equipment to do so.” As the three of you entered one of the labs of the St. Bartholomew hospital, Sherlock moved to the side to start examining the pair of shoes, that had been found at 221c. After you had left the flat, Sherlock, John and you had taken a cab leaving Lestrade behind to do his work. While John was wandering around absentmindedly, you took your time to look around the lab. It reminded you in big parts of the laboratories that you had worked in in the past, yet it was more cluttered which was an indication for the fact that sherlock was often working here. Despite the pressure you all were under, you broke into a tiny smile. Sherlock always left a mess around him wherever he went. Although it used to bug you when you met him, it was somewhat charming. He simply didn’t care what others thought of him and you admired that. A line of tables where positioned in the centre of the room, where a computer, a microscope and other lab utensils where placed upon. On the walls hung a few shelves with jars and bottles of chemical substances. At this point Sherlock had moved to the microscope, probably examining something he had found on the shoe. Instead of questioning Sherlock, you moved behind him to see what he was doing, knowing he didn’t want to be distracted. The computer was comparing pollen to determine which kind it was that sherlock had most likely found on the shoes. “Brilliant, if we know what kind of pollen you found on the shoes, we can determine the geographical area the owner of the shoes was from!”, you proclaimed. Sherlock looked up from his microscope for a moment, a smile on his face, seemingly glad to have someone else with him that esteemed his intellect. You turned away for a second to analyse the pair of shoes, as John started talking to Sherlock. The shoes were trainers, still in good shape, despite their age. Maybe from the 80s, or just retro? No, they had to be original, the soles were heavily used. The size meant, they had most likely been worn by a man or a woman with big feet. Then again, there were traces of felt tip on the inside of the shoes, no adult would write their name in their shoe. So, it was- Your train of thoughts was interrupted by the sound of a text alert that seemed to come out of Sherlock’s direction. You set the shoe down, just as Sherlock demanded to pass him his phone, in no general direction. “Where is it?”, you ask as John looks around the room. “Jacket.”, Sherlock simply replies without taking his eyes off the microscope. “Seriously, Sherlock?!”, you exclaim in disbelief. John looks just as angry as you but turns to you with a pleading look. “Ugh, alright!” You throw your hands up in frustration, but you get the phone anyway. “It’s from Mycroft, something about the Andrew West case?” You questioningly look from Sherlock to John. John sighs but takes the phone either way. “Delete it.”, Sherlock commanded. “Delete it?” “Missile plans are out of the country now. Nothing we can do about it.” Sherlock elaborated, seeming not the least bit interested. Oh, right, the case Mycroft wanted Sherlock to look into and that was of national importance. Obviously, Sherlock simply didn’t want to investigate it to piss his brother off. He was such a child sometimes. John would probably have to investigate on his own and you would gladly help him, seeing how you were already hooked on the rush investigating a case gave you. “Well, Mycroft thinks there is. He’s texted you eight times. Must be important.”, John tried persuading him. “Then why didn’t he cancel his dental appointment?” “His what?”, John asked after sighing. “Mycroft never texts if he can talk.”, Sherlock deduced. “Look, Andrew West stole the missile plans, tried to sell them, got his head smashed in for his pains. End of story. The only mystery is this: Why is my brother so determined to bore me when somebody else is being so delightfully interesting?” Sherlock turned back towards the microscope, probably not understanding the fragility of the situation, or – more likely – simply not caring. You pinched your nose in exasperation before turning towards Sherlock. “Sherlock, this is not one of our usual cases where the murder already happened. There is a women’s life at stake, try to remember that!” John turned the phone off and looked at you, slightly surprised by your outburst, yet seemingly thankful that you joined the conversation. “What for?”, the taller man retorted irritated. “This hospital’s full of people dying, Doctor. Why don’t you go and cry by their bedside and see what good it does them?”, the taller man replied exasperatedly. “Which doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least try to save every single life you can.”, you replied defending your brother while crossing your arms. “Well, you wouldn’t care, Sherlock.”, John murmured under his breath, before turning away from the conversation. Sherlock looked back into the microscope, seemingly unmoved by John’s and your anger. Suddenly, the computer beeped, indicating a match had been found. In this moment, Molly Hooper burst into the room. You had met her before and the two of you had hit it off immediately. You had been spending quite some time together and you already considered her a good friend. “Any luck?”, she asked walking energetically towards Sherlock stopping next to you. You really liked this positive and lively part of her. It always lifted your mood just being around her. “Oh, yes!”, the curly-haired man expresses smirking triumphantly at her. “Oh, hi (Y/N)! I didn’t see you there!”, she shrieked happily before turning to you embracing you in a short hug. Of course, she didn’t, you thought, as soon as Sherlock is around, he is the centre of her attention. Molly was hopelessly in love with him, although she would deny it vehemently. It was so obvious and you noticed it almost immediately as soon as the two interacted with each other. Sherlock seemed to be oblivious to all her attempts of affection. Although you two were friends, you had felt an aura of jealousy surrounding her on various occasions, seeing how much time Sherlock and you spend around each other. You knew she was aching for the opportunity to spend time with him, and for him to return that enthusiasm. She knew you were there mostly because of John, but it still seemed to bother her. As Molly started focusing on the screen, a brunet thirty-something man pushed the door open stopping after he entered, seemingly undecided whether he should interrupt. He wore a white t-shirt with kakis, an awkward smile on his face as he was fidgeting with his hands. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t…”, he started but was interrupted by Molly, who looked excited by the man’s entrance. “Jim! Hi!”, Molly shouted. The man named Jim attempted to exit the room, but Molly stopped him. “Come in! Come in!”, she exclaimed encouraging him to join them, making him smile shyly. As the brunet closed the door, Sherlock looked up from his research to study between the two just to look away uninterested. “Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes.”, she introduced the Detective as Molly’s acquaintance walked closer. “Ah!”, he proclaimed excitedly, immediately focusing on Sherlock, while ignoring us. As John and I turned towards them again, Molly noticed she hadn’t introduced us yet. “And, uh ... sorry.”, she said apologizingly. “This is (Y/N) Watson and her brother John. I think I already told you about them.” “Hi.”, he replied unenthusiastically. Jim’s eyes rested on you for a few seconds before his attention went back to Sherlock, yet you thought you saw something flicker in them. What was it? Something dark, that you were sure of. You absentmindedly shook your head. You had probably just imagined it. “So you’re Sherlock Holmes. Molly’s told me all about you. You on one of your cases?”, Jim started questioning him, while Sherlock was still seated with his back to the smaller man.At that you looked at your brother next to you rolling your eyes. Not another one of those fanatic fans. Granted, you admired Sherlock too, but you would never admit that. You were way to proud to admit that somewhere inside you, you had a soft spot for that stubborn, immature idiot.He was intellectually everything you had ever wished for in another human being and even though he liked to call himself a sociopath, you knew he wasn’t one. Sure, he was often rude and pretended not to care, but you knew he did underneath that cold exterior of his. “Jim works in I.T. upstairs. That’s how we met. Office romance.”, Molly explained giggling with Jim joining in. You simply smiled, happy that she had found someone even though her body language showed that she obviously wasn’t over Sherlock yet. You glanced at John, who seemed a little uncomfortable being completely left out. Sherlock took another look at Jim who was now standing on the left of John and you, before returning to his work. “Gay.”, he simply stated with an indifferent expression. “Sorry, what?”, Molly asked disbelievingly, her smile fading into a shocked expression. “Sherlock!”, you groaned silently pinching the bridge of your nose. Sherlock looked up from the microscope, most likely just then noticing what he had let slip. He turned his head in your direction, having noticed your warning, his eyes catching a glimpse of your angry expression. “Nothing.”, Sherlock answered fast before sending a fake-smile in Jim’s direction. “Um, hey.” You rolled your eyes. Great. He always had to be the smartest person in the room. “Hey.”, Jim returned not reacting to what the detective had insinuated, smiling nervously. Not paying attention, he knocked a metal dish off the table, apologizing profusely. He picked the dish back up followed by more awkward smiles and nervous fidgeting. You stifled a chuckle contrary to your brother who had turned away from the scene face-palming. Sherlock, on the other hand, looked aggravated. You had to admit the guy’s behaviour in Sherlock’s presence was sort of hilarious. Jim moved back to standing next to Molly, touching her back affectionately while saying: “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll see you at The Fox, ’bout six-ish?” Molly affirmed, before both say their goodbyes to each other. Before Jim left he turned back around to Sherlock. “It was nice to see you.”, he said without receiving a reply. After a few seconds of silence, John interrupted. “You too.”, your brother responded. Jim eyed him up and without another word, left the room. “What d’you mean, gay? We’re together.”, Molly inquired appalled. “And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly. You’ve put on three pounds since I last saw you.”, he replied meeting her eyes. “Two and a half.” “No, three.” “Sherlock, that’s enough! You’re being rude.”, you retorted frustratedly walking over to Molly and crossing your arms. Could he just for once keep his mouth shut?! Almost every time he saw Molly he either intentionally or accidentally hurt her feelings. “Sherlock!”, John decided to step into action. “He’s not gay. Why d’you have to spoil ...? He’s not.” Molly started getting angry. “With that level of personal grooming?”, Sherlock snorted apparently trying to convince us he was right no matter what. “So, what, you think he has an ulterior motive? To meet you?!”, you voiced having had enough. “You’re so full of yourself.” With worry in your eyes you turned towards Molly. “Don’t listen to him.”, you said vehemently before rushing towards the exit.                                             You were leaning against the wall outside of the lab, trying to calm yourself down. Sherlock was so ignorant at times: He was often simply hurting others, because he just couldn’t hold that bloody tongue of his. Running your fingers through your hair in frustration, you spotted Jim on his way to the staircase. Wanting to know what just had happened you ran after him. “Who are you?! A fan of Sherlock’s?”, you inquired a little angrier than you intended since you were still infuriated as you had reached him. “Did you plan this?” “Everyone seems to be in love with Sherlock Holmes”, he drawled unfazed as he slowly turned around, his demeanour changing in only seconds. From the shy and awkward guy was nothing left. Walking slowly towards you, a wave of fear overcame you. His eyes had lost all its warmth and the way they looked you up and down send shivers down your spine. You shuddered inwardly. How could someone change from being this insecure to confident - even dominant - in seconds? His body language was now completely contradictory to his behaviour in the laboratory. His back was straight, the fidgeting and awkward smiles were gone and replaced by an aura of confidence. Jim leaned into you, his eyes scanning your face closely while tilting his head to the side. He lifted his left thumb to your face, making you try to move backwards, but to no avail as you hit the wall. His thumb brushed over your cheek, making you cringe. The hungry, almost predatory look in his eyes filled you with unease. “Even you are effected.”, he whispered, a fake-surprised look appearing on his face. You gulped, crossing your arms. He made you feel like a deer in the headlights. And…he enjoyed it. Who was this man? Surely not the kind and shy man Molly believed him to be. “Shame.”, he said stepping away from you. His face was again distorted into an exaggerated expression of what looked like pity. With a sadistic grin he turned around, walking towards the door at the end of the corridor he was headed towards before. “We will meet again, I am sure.”, he exclaimed with an amused smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Before turning around and vanishing behind the door, he looked you over once more with an intense stare that you would swear could look into your soul. As you hurried back into the chemistry lab, you were met by John who had a concerned look on his face. Sherlock looked shortly up from the microscope with an absentminded expression but didn’t seem to acknowledge you. “Are you alright, (Y/N), you don’t look so well?”, John inquired turning away from Sherlock. You hadn’t noticed how tense you were until now. “Yes, I’m – Everythings fine.”, you lied. “Let’s get going.” To be continued… If you would like to be tagged for the series, please let me know!

Synopsis: Sherlock’s and John’s lives are about to drastically change, when John’s younger sister he hasn’t seen in years, appears at their doorstep. After living with the two for a while, Sherlock grows fond of the younger, intelligent woman. He feels connected to her like he never did before with another human being. But will the attention of a certain criminal mastermind get in the way? Wordcount: 3.5k A/N: Hey guys, I’m back with another chapter! I will probably update this series once a week or every two weeks and I plan to keep them around 2k - 3k words each. Enjoy the chapter and I would appreciate if you let me know how you liked it. :) Masterlist  Chapter One  Chapter Three The beginning of the end As John and you re-enter 221b a week later, shopping bags in your hands, you hear two gunshots being fired upstairs. The two of you had been grocery shopping together seeing as John still had issues with the machines in the supermarket. Sherlock was left at the flat alone, probably not the wisest decision. You instantly freeze, looking at an irritatingly calm John with a shocked expression. “It’s probably just Sherlock.”, he expresses with a shrug of his shoulders before continuing up the stairs. You were frozen to the spot for another second, before rushing after John, curious as to what was going on. Living with Sherlock was certainly more exciting then your former life and you’ve grown to enjoy the bickering between him and your brother. John was always so easily irritated or annoyed, a trait you had exploited when you were younger. The view that greeted you as you entered the flat makes you chuckle quietly. Sherlock is sprawled out on his armchair. He hadn’t dressed yet and was still in his blue silk robe, his hair slightly ruffled. In his left hand he held a gun which he now pointed at the wall on the right-hand side before firing it another two times. He didn’t even bother to look at his target. The shrill sound lets you flinch. That was the first time that someone fired a gun in your presence and you were sure it wasn’t going to be the last. Slightly scared you rush into the kitchen, dropping the bag next to the fridge. The groceries could wait. Sherlock was far more interesting right now. As you returned to the living room, you noticed what Sherlock had been shooting at: A big yellow, smiley had been sprayed on the wall. The yellow paint was now interrupted by bullet holes. Impressive, you had no clue he was such a good shot. But then again, it was probably dangerous not to in his occupation. The tall man fired a third and a forth shot, before John interrupts him. “What the hell are you doing?”, your brother inquired, removing his fingers from his ears. “Bored.”, Sherlock stated plainly, in a child-like tone. “What?”, John exclaimed in disbelief. “Bored!”, Sherlock replied, this time louder. And just like that they were back at bickering like a married couple. Typical. As Sherlock jumps up from the chair, John covers his ears again. You carefully step closer to your brother mirroring him. The curly-haired man fires a few bullets at the smiley face before putting his arm behind his back, firing from that position. “Bored! Bored!” As Sherlock lowered his arm, John rushed to his side taking the gun away from him and removing the magazine. Finally feeling a little less agitated, you joined into the conversation. “Don’t you have anything you could be doing? A case maybe?”, you ask trying to calm Sherlock, who had now moved to the couch. “Don’t know what’s got into the criminal classes. Good job I’m not one of them.”, the man responds “Well, taking it out on the wall will not keep you entertained for very long. Maybe try something less destructive and potentially dangerous?”, you try to reasoning with Sherlock while John puts the gun away. You should have known that it’s pointless to reason with a child once it’s angry. “Ah, the wall had it coming.”, he pointed out flopping down on the brown sofa. Moving closer to the wall to observe Sherlock’s work, you couldn’t hinder a grin from forming on your face. Sherlock certainly was a strange man. Weird, yes, but also more interesting than most. You had a feeling there was much more to him than most believed. No matter how long it would take, you already had set your mind to solving the puzzle that was Sherlock Holmes. “What about that Russian case?” your brother asked before making his way to the kitchen, probably to put the groceries away. “Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time.”, you heard Sherlock respond as you followed John to the fridge. You intended to help out as much as possible since you were living with them for free. “Ah, shame.”, John added sarcastically, followed by you chuckling. John takes out a few things out of one of the bags, moving to put them in the fridge. As he opened the door of the fridge John lets out a curse making you look up from the bag. “What’s…”, you trail off after spotting the head that was placed in the fridge. You slightly back up, not being used to the look as much as the two men. “Sherlock? Why is there a head in your fridge?”, you asked a little confused after heading back into the living room. “And where are we supposed to store the food?! Whatever, I’m going to ask Mrs. Hudson if she had some space left.” A few minutes later you had brought the bags to the landlady, but not without having the older woman remind you of how she was ‘not your housekeeper’. You were somewhat happy of having been spared the fight that surely ensued between your two flatmates. As you walked back to the flat, you heard shouting coming from inside. The door burst open, followed by an angry John rushing down the stairs past you. “John?”, you asked him stopping on the stairs as he had reached the entrance door. “I’m going to stay at Sarah’s for the night.”, he simply replied before leaving. As you reached the flat, Sherlock was standing in the middle of the room facing the smiley with a smirk. “Everything alright with John?”, you inquired a little worried. “Sure. I don’t know what has gotten into him.”, he replied, oblivious to the fact that he was most likely the reason for John leaving. “Now that John’s not present I would like to ask you something.”, you said changing the topic, since you were sure the conversation was going to lead nowhere. “Will you teach me?” “Care to elaborate?”, he requested having turned towards you, his arms clasped behind his back as you started approaching him further. “How to shoot. I want to be able to protect myself, now that I am being associated with you.”, you explained smiling shyly while fidgeting with your hands. “Why are you not asking your brother?”, he asked tilting his head to the side. “You know how John is, he is way to overprotective. He would never allow it.” “But you’ll do it anyw – “ Before Sherlock could finish his sentence a blast knocked you both to the floor. Your ears were ringing and you could feel a stinging pain in parts of your body before blackness overcame you. As you came to your senses you were greeted by a familiar face. Sherlock was leaning over you with a somewhat concerned expression. You found yourself lying on some kind of bed in the back of an ambulance. “What’s happened?”, you asked still a little dizzy. “Supposed gas leak in the opposite building. It shattered the windows of our flat and knocked us to the floor.”, he explained. “You lost your consciousness for a few minutes, but other than a few scratches and bruises you should be fine.” You smiled weakly, sitting up slowly. Your chest hurt a little but otherwise you felt fine. Taking you under his arm, Sherlock helped you to your feet walking you to the rim of the ambulance where you both sat down. “John’s still at Sarah’s?”, you asked a little worried. “Yes, I already attempted to contact him, but he didn’t pick up his phone.”, he exclaimed putting a blanket from the ambulance over your shoulders. Bricks and pieces of glass where scattered all over the street and policemen where attempting to keep curious civilians from intruding the restricted area. A huge hole graced now the façade of the building opposite 221b. “(Y/N), What is the real reason you are here?”, Sherlock’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “Sorry?” “You surely didn’t just appear on our doorstep because you missed the brother you hadn’t seen in years. Something must have happened that made you decide to come to London.” You bit your lip lowering your glance to the hands in your lap. “It’s our older sister, Harriet, she’s – gotten worse.”, you replied hesitantly, not liking that Sherlock was so observing. “I will talk to John, I swear, I just – please don’t tell him!” “Come on, let’s get upstairs. John will certainly expect us to be there.”, he reasoned helping you up. “It’s alright, I can walk myself.”, you objected with a grateful smile. “But thank you, Sherlock. For looking after me.” Sherlock doesn’t answer you but instead smiles softly walking slowly towards the entrance of 221b with you in tow. Inside the flat you flopped on the sofa with a sigh of relief while Sherlock sat down in his armchair playing with the strings of his violin absentmindedly. He was dressed in a purple button-up underneath his trademark coat and proper pants. The colour actually suited him, you found, he was always dressed so classically. You loved your brother with his adorable jumpers, but sometimes you wished he would care more about his clothes. You decided to retreat to the bathroom to take a look at your wounds and to freshen up a bit. You had a few scratches on your forehead and bruises on your jaw, but they had already been taken care of. After trying to make your hair look presentable you washed your face carefully to remove the layer of dust that was still covering your face partially. As you left the bathroom and entered the living area, the first thing you noticed was Mycroft who had positioned himself on John’s armchair. “Oh, Hello, Mycroft.”, you greeted with a smile, knowing that Mycroft came because he was secretly worried over Sherlock. “Hello, (Y/N), you are uninjured I assume?”, he said turning in your direction. “Is that your way of showing your concern for me?”, you replied with a smirk. In that moment you noticed John, who must have arrived only moments ago and looked severely worried. As he saw that you were mainly unharmed his body visibly relaxed. You rushed towards him followed by him embracing you in his arms. “Are you alright? I just saw what happened on TV, my phone was off.” “I’m fine. A few bruises and scratches here and there, but apart from that I was lucky.”“John.”, Sherlock acknowledged his presence. “I came as fast as possible. Are you okay, Sherlock?” You decided to leave the gentlemen to their business, feeling the need to change your still dusty clothes. The suitcase that you had brought with you had been stored in the bathroom, so you always had access to your stuff. Entering the bathroom a second time, you opened your suitcase pulling out a new pair of jeans and a plain shirt. You changed into your clean clothes and put the dirty ones into the laundry basket. Mycroft was surely talking to his brother about a case he wanted him to look into, but knowing Sherlock, he would pretend to be busy, just to annoy Mycroft. Honestly, sometimes you didn’t understand their relationship. To everyone who was around the two a little longer it was obvious that both of them hid their worry and love for each other behind a façade of intellect. Sure they were both incredibly intelligent but not even they could detach themselves from feelings simply because they dreaded having a soft spot. As you left the bathroom, Mycroft had already walked towards the door so you hurried into the living area fearing you had missed something important. Mycroft turned towards you probably to say his goodbyes. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, (Y/N).”, he stated shaking your hand. “I left information to a case with John. I hope you two will convince Sherlock to look into it.” “I will try.”, you responded with a soft smile, finding their rivalry kind of adorable. After Mycroft left, you turned in Sherlock’s and John’s direction. “Anything I missed?” In that moment Sherlock’s phone rings, followed by him setting down the bow of his violin and answering his phone. “Sherlock Holmes.”, he said into the phone, his face lighting up after a few seconds.  “How could I refuse?” Sherlock ends the call and energetically jumps up from the seat, putting his violin away. “Lestrade. I’ve been summoned. Coming?”, he explained, having turned around towards us after walking to the door. “Should (Y/N) come too?”, John asked looking between you and Sherlock, unsure of what to decide. “If she wants to.”, Sherlock exclaimed looking at you expectantly. “More than anything!”, you replied excitedly. You were going to solve a case with Sherlock Holmes! After all three of you stepped into a cab, Sherlock in the front and the two of you in the back, your brother finally decided to break the silence. “So what have you been up to lately?”, he asked turning away from the window to look at you. “I just finished my dissertation. I’m almost a Doctor now.”, you explained excitedly with a grin on your face. “Not a medical one like I initially planned but a PhD nevertheless.” “What subject did you choose in the end? The last time I saw you, you were so keen on going to med school.” “Neurobiology. In the end, I decided I was more of a scientist. I always wanted to work in research and med school just wasn’t for me.” “If I had your grades I would have gotten into med school a lot easier. We could have swapped.”, he joked with a chuckle. “Yeah, haha. But then again, with your grades I probably wouldn’t have been able to study biology either!”, you snorted a playful smile gracing your features. “Tse, always the sassy one, you haven’t changed a bit.”, he exclaimed before turning to look out the window again.“Sherlock here studied chemistry.”, he added hoping to make the tall man join the conversation. “Really?”, you asked, happy to have found another person with a passion for science. “Why are you not working in that field?”“I could, of course. Though solving cases is far more exhilarating.”, Sherlock elaborated without turning around. “He means, he is no good at working with other people. ”, John elaborated jokingly to which Sherlock responded by giving him the deathglare.“I bet they were pissed off by his little “projects”, John snickered. “Maybe he stored a head in their fridge, too.”, you said giggling. “God dammit, we really have to get a new fridge…” “Are you quite done?” The cab came to a hold, meaning you had reached your destination. As you exit the cab your excitement grew: You would be working with New Scotland Yard on a crime, something you had always dreamed of. And the best part was that you got to see Sherlock use his brilliant mind. Maybe you could learn a thing or two. The boys moved closer to the entrance of the precinct where just now noticed a man with grey hair smoking a cigarette. He seemed to have been waiting for you, since Sherlock approached him. “What do you have for me?”, Sherlock asked a little bit to eager for your taste. “I will explain inside.”, the silver-haired man responded taking a last drag of his cigarette before letting it drop to the pavement. “Who’s your friend Sherlock?” “She’s John’s younger sister. Quite the smart one, she might prove helpful.”, the consulting detective explained making you smile proudly. Sherlock just complimented you. Certainly, a rare thing to hear coming from him. The man hesitated for a second before walking closer to you holding out his right hand. “Detective Inspector Lestrade. Nice to meet you. If Sherlock says you will be of help to us, you are welcome to join us.” “(Y/N) Watson, at your service.”, you responded winking before shaking his hand. You thought you saw a light blush cover his cheeks, but you have been wrong. “Follow me.”, the Detective Inspector instructed entering the building with the three of you in tow. As you walked through an area where many policemen where rushing about Lestrade spoke again: “You like the funny cases, don’t you? The surprising ones.” “Obviously.”, Sherlock responded. “You’ll love this. That explosion...” As you passed a certain desk that a had a card with the name ‘Detective Sergeant Donovan’ on it, a dark-skinned woman looks you up and down dismissively after exchanging angry glares with Sherlock. “Gas leak, yes?”, Sherlock elaborates. “No.” “No?” “No, made to look like one.”, the Detective Inspector clarifies as you reached his office. At that you exchange confused looks with John. “So this was not an accident.”, John exclaimed seemingly confused. “But, why? What do you get for blowing up an empty building?!” “Sherlock’s attention. He could simply wait for the right moment to blow us up, but he didn’t. His intention wasn’t to kill us.”, you deduced seeing how professional the whole thing was organized. Looking back to Sherlock you noticed a white envelope the words ‘Sherlock Holmes’ on it lying on a nearby desk, that the Consulting Detective was fixated on. “Hardly anything left of the place except a strong box – a very strong box – and inside it was this.”, Lestrade explained pointing towards the envelope. “You haven’t opened it?” “It’s addressed to you, isn’t it?” As Sherlock reached for the letter, Lestrade added “We’ve X-rayed it. It’s not booby-trapped.” The dark-haired man looked up for a second before hesitatingly taking the envelope in his hands. “How reassuring!”, he exclaimed sarcastically. Sherlock walks to a nearby lamp examining the envelope intently under the light. “Nice stationery. Bohemian.” “What?”, Lestrade dug deeper. “From the Czech Republic. No fingerprints?” “No.” “She used a fountain pen. A Parker Duofold – iridium nib.” He was able to see that just from examining the writing? Impressive. “She?”, your brother inquired, wanting to understand how he identified the writer’s gender. “Although it’s disputed, Graphologist’s find that a women’s writing is rounder and neater than a man’s handwriting which you can see in this example. I find those characteristics in my handwriting as well.”, you clarified quietly. “How do you know that?”, John questioned eying you suspiciously. “I read Sherlock’s blog. Maybe you should try it too, even if it is as ‘boring’ as you say.”, you deadpanned. Sherlock opens the envelope with a letter opener as John and you step closer, curious as to what was inside it. As a pink phone fell into his hand, John’s face lights up in recognition. “What is it? Have you seen this before?” “But that’s – that’s the phone, the pink phone.”, John proclaimed in disbelief. “What, from the Study in Pink?” “From the first case?”, Lestrade and you chimed in. “Well, obviously it’s not the same phone but it’s supposed to look like ...”, Sherlock trailed off before noticing what the two of you had just said. “The Study in Pink? You read his blog?” “It’s quite entertaining and I have a lot of time on my hands.”, you justified shrugging as Sherlock glares at you accusingly before turning to Lestrade. “Course I read his blog! We all do. D’you really not know that the Earth goes round the Sun?”, he explained. “It isn’t the same phone. This one’s brand new.”, Sherlock observed ignoring Lestrade’s question. “Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like the same phone, which means your blog has a far wider readership.”, he states looking at John accusingly. Sherlock turned the phone on and a mechanic voice started speaking. “You have one new message.”, followed by four short pips and a longer one. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Is that it?”, John and you asked confused. “There’s more.”, Sherlock responded showing us a picture on the phone that showed an empty, run-down room with a fireplace in the center of it. “What the hell are we supposed to make of that? An estate agent’s photo and the bloody Greenwich pips!”, Lestrade exclaimed in frustration. “It’s a warning.”, Sherlock explained absentmindedly. You took the phone out of his hands examining the picture closer. You had no clue where that was supposed to be. “But for what?”, you voiced before handing the phone back to the Consulting Detective. “Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that. Five pips. They’re warning us it’s gonna happen again.” Sherlock looks back at the small screen his brows furrowed in thought, before heading to the door. “And I’ve seen this place before.” “H-hang on. What’s gonna happen again?”, he asked trying to catch up with his flatmate. “Sherlock, what do you mean?”, you joined in rushing together with Lestrade after the two. Sherlock turned around making a dramatic gesture with his arms. “BOOM!” To be continued... If you would like to be tagged for the series, let me know!

Hey guys, I haven’t been well the past two weeks and am now checked into a hospital. I am still writing, but don’t have wifi so the next chapters of “Hidden Affection” will be published later since this is a special situation. I will continue but please be patient a little longer so I can focus on my health which consumes a lot of time at the moment. The next chapter though will most likely be published in the next two weeks, it simply takes a little longer to write and publish at the moment. Love, Laura

Hey guys, I haven’t uploaded anymore since a few weeks as you’ve probably noticed. This however will not be permanent, I was simply caught up with health-related stuff and a minor writer’s block. But I just started writing again so look forward to the new chapter of Hidden Affection. Yours, Laura

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Ever in my heart You will hold a sacred place Love for life, and you.