Just Another Parentlock: Sherlock

I'm deathly in love with the show Sherlock. So most of the fanfics I've seen on this site are about 1D. If you don't know much about the show well... yeah, go watch it. xD anyways, sorry for the people who do know the show, i spelled it like Ms. Hudson and not Mrs. Hudson. but im too lazy to change it. ANYWAYS! This is a fanfic including some fluffy Johnlock and Parentlock later on. Plus I haven't proof read and its still a rough draft... So yeah, go wild.

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5. Let's Take a Break

In the morning Sherlock rose, his head pounding and eyes blurred as he tried to make out the light that flowed in from his windows. The digital clock next to his bed spoke out 8:39 A.M. and he rolled from the sheets. Everything was quiet as he went through his morning routine- brush his teeth, brush his hair, wash his face, say good morning to John, eat breakfast, get dressed, and go- but this morning he would skip one of those things on his mental list of what-to-do. He took his coat from the rack and slipped it on over his clothes, rushing down the staircase gracefully. Ms. Hudson stood at the bottom of the stairs and Sherlock kissed her cheek as he left the flat. The cab Ms. Hudson had called for was at a complete stop as Sherlock hopped into the car and spoke the address of the café he was meeting Lestrade at. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the messages, seeing if anyone had tried to contact him. His thumb rested on John’s number and he deleted it with a straight face, shoving his phone back into his coat pocket and staring out the window. Buildings and people passed in colorless blurs as the late March sunlight lit up all of the streets and shiny objects on the sidewalk. Ms. Hudson is wrong. I’m not a brat. She doesn’t understand my relationship with John. My past relationship with John. He corrected himself and sighed. His mind wondered off, thinking of where John could possibly be or what he could possibly be doing. The car ride had taken less time than expected and Sherlock threw money at the cabby before he pushed the car door closed. Flat White sat in yellowing letters on a black building. He spotted DI Inspector Greg Lestrade sitting at a lone table, twirling the coffee in his cup around with a spoon. Sherlock attempted at a casual entrance and took a seat across from the man with grey hair. He looked up from his coffee and gave a warming smile.

                “Glad to see you in the light of day,” he joked but Sherlock found the remark unamusing. Greg’s eyes curiously scanned the room and the outside world.

                “I invited John. Where is he? Is he sick again?” the man asked and Sherlock ordered his coffee, turning and setting his cheek in his palm.

                “I guess you could say that,” his voice was cold and Greg pushed his cup away as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. The mindless chatter of those around them filled Sherlock’s ears.

                “You guys got in another fight. You know it’s quite obvious when it happens. You look paler than usual, you’re sound colder, and your eyes are red. Will you two quit the bickering and just kiss already?” Greg sighed and Sherlock lifted a brow, the inspector soon dropping his gaze down to his coffee.

                “Kiss? We aren’t gay you know. John has his petty girlfriends and I have my job. We don’t have time to mess around with such tender topics like… like kissing.” Sherlock murmured as if it were plain to see by everyone that he and John were nothing more than distant… strangers.

                “John’s girlfriends never work out and you are legally unemployed. You know there’s no such thing as a “consulting detective” right?” Greg sipped his coffee and Sherlock balanced back on his wooden chair.

                “There is such thing as a consulting detective, you’re talking to one right now,” Sherlock sighed and his own coffee was set on the table.

                “Now Lestrade, why did you really want me to come out here?” the question was thrown out and Greg’s expression grew… restless.

                “Me and the others believe that something big is about to happen-” Sherlock interrupted the man with a “Something big as in…?” and he shrugged.

                “Honestly we don’t know and that’s what’s bothering us. We haven’t had a really mind boggling case in months and the crime world can’t be this quiet… no, no it’s frightening.” He looked up with concern clouding his eyes and Sherlock sighed, sipping his drink and standing.

                “If this is seriously why you wanted me to show up half way across town then I bid you a farewell. I don’t have time to roll around in… foolish predictions. Maybe they’re taking a break,” Sherlock headed for the door and peaked his head back inside, “and so should we.” And like that the tall slender man was gone from Greg’s sight. He paid for the drinks and grabbed his own coat before trailing after Sherlock.

 

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