SOCIOPATH'S ROMANCE // Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Two swift knocks made Y/n lift her head from the files and towards the door. After telling the person they could enter, the bushy head of Donovan peeked though, entering carefully Y/n's office. Ever since the 'incident' in Greg's office, the Sergeant had been treading very very carefully around Y/n, "D.I. Y/n?" 

Y/n scowled, slamming her steaming mug of tea against the glass of her desk, as she said, "What is it Donovan?" 

"We're hosting a surprise birthday party for Greg in a week's time. We'd like for you, John and...", the following words seemed to burn her lips like particular distasteful medecine being forced down her throat. 

Recalling highlighting the date in bright neon yellow on her calender, Y/n was happy that someone had taken the organisation of Greg's party. It wasn't that she was bad at it but more that she loved drama and almost always started planning too late, resulting in a huge rush in the days coming up to the event. 

Y/n quirked an eyebrow and enticed her expectantly, "Go on." 

Donovan mumbled, "...Sherlock to come." 

"Just text me the details, I'll be in touch.", Y/n grinned with a victorious smile, going ahead and typing rapidly on the laptop next to her. Donovan stayed, shifting from one foot to another, wanting to say something else to Y/n Baxter. 

"Y/n... I'm-", she started with a irritated sigh.

"That'll be all.", dismissed Y/n without a glance. Donovan huffed loudly but refrained from slamming Y/n's office door like a petulant rebel teenager. Y/n scoffed a little but focused back on her work, organising herself rapidly for the days to come. 

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.

Sherlock lifted his head to listen for the footsteps on the stairs. On cue, Y/n opened the door to 221b and strode in happily, humming a popular song. John greeted her briefly before going back to text someone on his phone. The detective could tell it was girl from the stupid smile on his face and recurrent laughs. 

Sentiment. 

"We're invited to Greg's birthday party.", Y/n informed the two of them as she walked into the kitchen and wrote the information in shiny red ink on the planner held up by a magnet on their white fridge. 

Having followed her into the kitchen, Sherlock looked skeptically at the information and furrowed his brows in confusion asking, "Who's Greg?" 

Y/n sighed, going to grab herself a cup of water. The cabinets were as usual devoid of food and she sighed again at the two of them. She grabbed the last clean cup and poured herself a large glass of water before answering, "Lestrade Sherlock, Lestrade." 

"Oh. Have fun then.", Sherlock shrugged, creasing his crisply ironed navy suit that fit him so perfectly. Even though he ran in London, experimented and did crazy stuff with those on, none of his suits ever seemed soiled or to arbour a single stain. He always seemed perfectly well kept. 

"No you idiot, you're invited as well.", Y/n smiled softly, hitting him gently with a newspaper she had bought on her way in. He purposely didn't block it, even though he could've.

"Really?", he asked, even more confused. People didn't usually like him and birthday parties sounded like things with friends. Surely Graham didn't think of him as a friend.

"Yes, Sherlock. Some people do think you're not a total dick."

Sherlock dismissed her comment, playfully swatting her before ruffling the hair atop her head, muttering, "Oh shush."