The Consulting Detective's Apprentice (Sherlock x Reader)

Sherlock's P.O.V.

A silence had dawned upon 221B Bakerstreet.

A comfortable, calm silence.

(Y/N) had moved back in a week ago, and life was good. Cases were solved, jokes were made and it almost seemed like nothing had happened. Sherlock was glad that she didn't hold a grudge against him, it would've driven him insane. She still teased him with what he had done, using it to guilt trip him into doing things for her, and even tough he knew that he really didn't have to do those things, he wanted to. Not that he would admit.

Something had changed though, she had probably noticed that he cared about her too, or needed her, because she was much more comfortable around him. This resulted in much more physical contact between the two, and both of them didn't really mind. Leaning against each other, Sherlock grabbing her middle to drag her to some files, her grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her when she saw something cool... you know.

At this very moment he was busy reading a book with detailed descriptions about fingers. He had found out that there was much more to be discovered from people's fingers than he had initially thought. His flat mate was lying on her back on the couch, reading some kind of adventurous story, she was a sucker for those. He always told her they were useless, but she would just roll her eyes and point out that everything she did didn't have to be useful. It could be just for 'fun'.

(Y/N) got up, laid her book on the ground and stretched for a second before standing up and walking down the stairs. Sherlock figured she was going to collect the mail and see what kind of bills they had to pay. He didn't pay any attention to her anymore, she always took care of those things.

*Thump* *Thump* *Thump* *Thump*

Sherlock looked up and saw that (Y/N) had already gotten back, now furiously throwing hits towards the punching bag in the living room. John had brought her that bag as a joke when she decided to move back in, he said she would need it if she had to put up with Sherlock again.

Her stance was professional; her hits were angry but controlled. It was clear that she had taken multiple classes in self defence and she succeeded in it. But with every hit she got sloppier, and more frustrated, that much Sherlock could see. Her face was scrunched up in an angry mask, she looked like she was about to kill someone, or something.

She spun and kicked the bag incredibly hard, her chest was heaving and her eyes were spitting fire. She turned away from the bag with balled fists, a bit hunched over, looking dangerous.

'ARRGH, THAT STUPID BLOOD-SUCKING BITCH' She screamed, spinning around quickly and resuming her spit fire of attacks on the poor bag.

It was clear to Sherlock that something was very much wrong with (Y/N), she never lost control over herself, he never saw her this mad in the time he had known her.

'(Y/N), you should calm down.' He said calmly, and she paused shortly to look at him.

'You should shut up.' She spat at him and continued her erratic punches at the bag that looked like it wasn't going to last much longer. Sherlock decided that she really should get a grip on herself, and that she wasn't able to do that on her own.

He stood up, calmly, put away his book and stood behind her, grabbing her shoulders.

'(Y/N), stop.' He said, trying to be more persuasive this time, but she only shrugged off his grip and went on molesting her victim.

Sherlock wrapped one of his arms around her middle and the other one around her shoulders, so he could pull her away from her target, but she kept moving and trying to get out of his arms. He decided that there was something very, very, very wrong, and he changed tactics.