The Consulting Detective's Apprentice (Sherlock x Reader)

Your P.O.V.

'Oh dear, four boxes? Is that everything you've got?' Ms Hudson asked as you unloaded them from the cab.

'I just moved, and I really don't need that much.' You smiled at her as you took two of them and stared at the other ones quizzically, wondering how you would get them with you.

'I'll give you a hand.' John said as he walked out of the building and picked up the boxes.

'Thank you.' You said with a smile as you walked in.

'God, these are really heavy.' He exclaimed in a groan as he walked up the stairs behind you you just grinned and opened the door to your room. You set down the boxes next to your bed, and John did the same.

'What's in them?' John asked and you shrugged.

'Some paint and brushes, nothing special honestly.' You said casually as you took in the looks of the room, it was boring, but it was sufficient. You didn't think you would be needing it much anyway these days, you had a feeling Sherlock Holmes did not like to sleep.

'Ah, so you're an artist?' John asked behind you as you descended the stairs towards the living room.

'Used to be, but I picked up forensics in Scotland and got a job offered here right away.' You told him as you sat down on the sofa again, you liked this apartment a lot.

'Love the decorations in here.' You said with a small smile as you looked at the smiley with bullet holes in his face on the wall behind you.

'Thank you, Sherlock did it himself.' John grinned, but then turned his attention back to you.

'But you graduated from university and they wanted you right away? That's quite impressive!' He told you, and you wanted to respond but you got cut off by Sherlock, who had just walked into the room.

'Maybe Scotland Yard decided to hire someone who wasn't completely stupid.' He snapped, and by his dishevelled look he had just come out of bed, though it was already ten o'clock.

'I think Lestrade is fine, honestly, not too bright but he keeps his men under control. Except for that one Lady, I think she's rather annoying.' You told them as you took out your notes and scribbled down that you had to unpack your things.

'Dark hair? Awful voice? Refers to me as 'freak'?' Sherlock said bored, sitting in his chair and massaging his temples.

'Yes exactly, is she in a relationship with Anderson?' You asked and John chuckled a bit, while shaking his head.

'Affair.' Sherlock said with closed eyes and your mouth formed an 'O'.

Sherlock P.O.V. 

There were no current cases that really seemed worth it, and he was so incredibly, amazingly bored. This conversation was mind-numbing and he felt the need to scream surged up in him.

He quickly stood up, muttering some recent conclusions from his experiments to himself, searching out the files that mattered from his science box in his mind palace. But he already knew all of that.

'There has to be a case!' He said, and faintly noticed how John said something to (Y/N).

(Y/N)! Maybe she was the source of new information he needed right now.

He turned to her and decided to deduce everything he could from her.

'You are fairly intelligent, probably one of the brightest minds in the whole United Kingdom, not even close to my intelligence, however, but no one is. You have graduated from your latest study with the best ratings England has ever seen, that's why you got the job. Your thoughts however are a complete mess; you suffer from social anxiety that prevents you from telling you what's on your mind. That's the reason why your last relationship ended badly, he broke up and you moved to London, conveniently. You are very composed, and you care what people think about you, extremely annoying. Furthermore, you are an orphan, with no living relatives left, you suffer from serious problems of solitude.' He spit fired, expecting for her to act shocked or slap him across the face, or get mad like people usually do. But she just lifted her left eyebrow and leaned forwards, resting her head in her hands.