CHAPTER SIX
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i. tired, tired, tired !

— DANNY HAD DECIDED TO HELP SHERLOCK FIND THE PINK LADY'S SUITCASE, in one of those 'you go left, I'll go right' kind of deals. Danny, so far, had been though twenty-seven alleys- most of which had nothing pink or suitcase like.

He'd texted John, just to let him know the gist of what was going on, feeling a bit guilty having left him behind. Oddly, he didn't get a reply.

"Daniel!" A voice called, making Danny stop in his search through yet another dumpster.

Face pinched up in disgust, he pulled away and looked around in the darkness for anyone he recognized.

"Daniel Evans!" The voice called again, sounding annoyed with the slightest, undetectable hint of worry.

Danny looked up at the buildings on either side of him, having now heard it from above.

"God?" He called.

"Not quite." The voice muttered, still echoing over the buildings. "I've found it."

"The suitcase?" Danny asked.

"Y-what do you think?" The voice asked, annoyed again.

"God found the pink lady's suitcase?" Daniel called, out of breath, being much too exhausted to actually care how stupid that sounded.

"I'm coming to you." The voice said simply.

Danny leaned against one of the walls, avoiding an odd sickly green substance that was splattered on the pavement a few paces away.

This is exactly what he didn't want to be doing tonight.

Soon enough, Sherlock turned the corner lugging a small pink suitcase in one hand. Danny stood to his full height and met him half way.

"This is it?" Danny asked.

"Her information is on it so I assume it is." Sherlock stated, in a slightly rude fashion. Danny payed no mind to it.

"Right, can we go home now?" Danny asked, hugging his arms to his chest. A sweater just didn't seem to cut it today.

"Are you cold?" Sherlock asked curiously, ignoring the first question.

"Yes, I am, and I'm tired, and I'm hungry, can we please go home." Danny asked, rubbing his arm and tucking his chin against his shoulder, giving his face as much warmth as he could.

He listened to Sherlock move around for a moment, before a dark lump was held out for him to take.

"Take this, I'll go hail a taxi."

Danny, without thinking, grabbed the lump and held it in his arms, realizing very quickly what it was as he watched Sherlock's retreating figure.

"You'll freeze." Danny called, holding out the long black coat.

"I'll be fine." Sherlock waved off, not bothering to stop.

Danny sighed and begrudgingly slid his arms into the coat, instantly feeling warmer, before trailing after the genius man with the pink lady's suitcase.

— HAILING A TAXI BARELY TOOK A MINUTE, Sherlock had raised his hand and almost instantly a car pulled up next to him.

"After you." Sherlock held open the door for Danny, who gratefully crawled in and pushed himself to the corner. Still cold and tired, he practically curled in on himself as Sherlock got in next to him, putting the suitcase on the floor.

Sherlock muttered the address to the woman behind the wheel and leaned back against the seat, glancing at Danny.

Daniel Evans had tightened the coat around himself, feeling much more content then he had felt twelve minutes ago, when he was digging through a dumpster.

"You didn't have to help, you know." Sherlock stated, seeing the man shiver slightly and pull the sleeves of the coat over his hands.

Danny nodded, "I know."

"I could have done it myself." Sherlock scoffed.

"I know." Danny repeated.

"You could have stayed with John." Sherlock informed, shaking his head.

Danny smiled slightly, catching Sherlock's eye, "I know."

Sherlock fell silent for a moment, moving his gaze to stare out the window.

He hesitated for a moment, "Thank... you." He said.

Danny chuckled slightly, "How much did that hurt? You don't seem like a guy that says those words very often."

"I don't." Sherlock sighed, still staring out the window, watching the lights of passing cars.

Danny paused, "You're welcome."

— WHEN SHERLOCK AND DANNY STUMBLED BACK INTO 221b BAKER STREET, they briefly greeted Mrs Hudson- who most definitely had something to say about the coat on Danny's shoulders but decided not to say anything (which both men were grateful for).

Though she didn't stop the teasing look on her face when Sherlock held the door of the apartment open for Danny.

"Do we happen to have any food in this place?" Danny asked, heading to the fridge once he'd taken the coat off and laid it over the back of a kitchen chair.

"You may not want to-" Sherlock began, his sentence falling short as Danny opened the fridge,

"Are those eyeballs?" Danny asked.

Sherlock hesitated.

"And have they been pickled?" Danny grimaced, pulling the jar out of the fridge and placing it on the table.

Sherlock glanced awkwardly around the room, "Perhaps." He stated, bouncing on his feet.

Danny's eyebrows raised as he hummed, "Alright." He said, putting the eyeballs back.

Sherlock squinted at the man, who pushed the jar of pickled eyeballs aside to investigate the rest of the fridge.

"We have no food here other than the pickled eyeballs and I have a pretty good feeling those aren't gonna taste any better coming back up- and they're almost definitely coming back up.." Danny sighed, grimacing even at the idea of his joke.

"We can go out to eat later, if you'd like." Sherlock offered, leaning against the wall and shoving his hands in his pants pocket.

"That sounds good." Danny smiled, closing the fridge and letting his back rest against it.

It seemed like every single sentence between the two was born from an unsettling awkwardness, one that both men desperately wished to crack but couldn't.

Sherlock looked at the man before him, who was tired and hungry and couldn't help but question why he had trailed after him in the first place. Danny could have been warm in this flat, he could have gone out and eaten instead of gone out and dumpster dived.

Though, on more than one occasion Danny had threatened to eat a somewhat appealing piece of garbage, so that was just more judge of his character for Sherlock to mull over.

"What do you do when you're not..," Danny made a gesture to Sherlock, gaining his attention, "When you're not, being a crime solving genius?"

Sherlock glanced at the floor for a moment, trying not to make it obvious that this particular sentence made him flustered.

He wasn't sure why, exactly. He wasn't sure why he was flattered and blushing and the blood in his ears pumped louder and louder. It wasn't a feeling he was used to and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

It made him feel indignant, and warm.

"I don't do much." Sherlock shrugged. "I sleep, sometimes I eat. Sometimes I watch Grey's Anatomy and correct the mistakes-"

"A noble pastime." Danny agreed.

Sherlock allowed his lips to quirk slightly.

It was quiet for a moment, both men's tongues trying desperately to cling to words they could speak.

"Should we check out the case?" Danny asked, pointing to the sitting room again.

Sherlock turned and grabbed the pink suitcase again, "Yes, I suppose so."

The man didn't bother to say anything more before moving to his bedroom down a small hallway next to the kitchen. Danny trailed after him.

Almost as soon as Sherlock opened the bedroom door, he tossed the suitcase onto a messily made bed and gestured to another, cleaner bed pressed up against one of the walls.

"That one will most likely be yours." Sherlock stated.

Danny moved into the room, noticing the periodic table and odd 'types of tobacco' articles pinned and taped to the walls.

Paying them no mind, he fell stomach first into the bed Sherlock pointed out, and watched the said man sit on his own bed and open the suitcase.

"What makes you think John is gonna choose to stay?" Danny asked.

Sherlock scoffed, "Well I am a genius."

"Yes, of course, that'll do it." Danny breathed, moving to stuff his face in his pillow and sigh.

There was a moment of silence, where no one moved or made a sound.

"Do you want to stay?" Sherlock asked nonchalantly, not wanting to let on that Danny's intelligent and carefree demeanour was really extremely refreshing.

Like a breath of fresh air after breathing in too much stupid from the world.

"I'd like to." Danny answered honestly, lifting his head so his voice wasn't muffled. "It could prove to be exciting." He said.

Sherlock hummed, picking through the suitcase absently.

"But if so, I will be organizing the kitchen- I know you probably have more experiments to do but maybe don't put any of those 'experiments' where we put our food." Danny chuckled, referring to the pickled eyeballs currently on the middle shelf.

"We'll see." Sherlock smirked.

Danny continued to press his face into the pillow again, easily finding some odd sense of peace as he listened to Sherlock breathe and move around in the room.

Finding himself completely and utterly exhausted, Danny floated between the place of sleeplessness and complete serenity, finding it difficult to keep his eyes open but also difficult to fall completely dead to the world.

He wasn't sure why he felt this way, but he was perfectly content just sitting in quiet peace.

He didn't even flinch or move when a knock sounded against the bedroom door frame.

"I brought up some tea." Mrs Hudson's kind voice spoke.

"Here." Sherlock stated simply. There was clinking noises, as a cup of tea was placed on his bedside table, and another near Danny. "I can't guarantee his will be finished though."

"No worries, dear, he seems tired." Mrs Hudson assured, "I'll be just downstairs if you need anything." She finished, stepping out of the room.

Sherlock moves closer to Danny again, still the man didn't move. His contentment felt more like a coma he couldn't escape, being able to hear everything but not move for himself.

At this point he didn't want to.

He was just too tired. Physically, from walking around all day and having one weird event after the other, having to chase after a run away genius.

Mentally, he'd had to sift through garbage for nearly an hour.

Now that this thought passed over his mind, he thought maybe he should shower before he quickly fell asleep- simply for the fear of still smelling the same when he woke up.

But as he felt a warm, fuzzy, slightly rough blanket placed carefully over him, he couldn't help but finally slip into a state of unconsciousness, a shower being a forgotten memory rather than a fulfilled task.

author's note

okay hopefully I know danny's character a little better and this chapter actually makes sense but I'm not entirely sure 😬😂

Hhh I don't have a whole lot to say other than just to preach the discord server again

Please point out any mistakes, it's actually 1:30 am so I probably messed up a lot wOo

I hope you enjoyed, and ily ♥️