First person

Yayy

Mrs. Hudson smiled at me as I walked through her doorway. "Hello." I said simply.

"Good afternoon, (Y/n)! Now, about those living arrangements-" Mrs. Hudson started.

"Sherlock and John." I immediately said. Mrs. Hudson's eyes widened a bit at the sudden decision. Right after the words had come out of my mouth, I swallowed thickly. What? What was I thinking- two men and a girl sharing a flat? In America, that was enough to assume they were in a relationship, Sherlock and John already have had that assumption made multiple times.

And what if one of them turned out to be a perv?

Stupid, stupid! I thought to myself, mentally face-palming. Why did I do that-

"Alright. I'm sure John would love that- he's grown fond of you." Mrs. Hudson agreed, a bewildered smile on her face.

I swallowed, pushing down my worried thoughts. "And... what about Sherlock?"

Mrs. Hudson waved her hand dismissively. "He'll enjoy having another person to talk to, I'm sure of it."

I couldn't help the smile that made it's way onto my face.

~

Two days later, John and Mrs. Hudson were helping me move in. John was thrilled that I was moving in but Sherlock was well, Sherlock: no one could tell what he thought.

Two days before, I had helped John and Sherlock tidy up the latter's room- although Sherlock didn't do much other than sit around and collect papers on his lap while he stared at his computer, occasionally playing some notes on a violin. John said he was working on a case- whatever that meant. The day afterwards, Sherlock had run off somewhere early in the morning leaving John and I to move all of John's stuff to Sherlock's room.

And now, we were currently dragging boxes from the U-Haul van I had rented to John's old room. It was tedious work and would have been harder than it was if John hadn't called Detective Inspector Lestrade (whoever he is), Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's appearent brother, and Mary, John's girlfriend.

About halfway through this moving process, we saw a cab pull up. Seconds later, out stepped a disgruntled looking Sherlock.

"Oi! Sherlock! Where've you been?" John called.

Sherlock stocked past him, seething. "Solving Anderson's stupid case." he gave Lestrade a death glare. Poor Lestrade, he looked terrified. "Someone left him in charge and he called me. Thought it was important- it was a level 1 case, John. LEVEL 1!" He seethed, making wild hand motions as be talked.

"Oh dear." John muttered half-heartedly, tuning out Sherlock's ranting. "Sherlock, how about you come and help us?"

Sherlock paused, his face morphing into confusion. "Help you? With what?"

"(Y/n). She's moving in today, remember? We promised to help." John explained, motioning to me standing awkwardly near the fence holding a large box.

"Hi." I stated. Sherlock's mouth formed an 'o' shape as he turned to me.

"Yes, right. Obvious." He rolled his eyes and walked over to me, gently taking to box. "I'll take this upstairs."

I nodded, feeling my cheeks go warm. His face was mere inches from mine and as I stared into his galaxy-like eyes, I found myself desperately wanting to close the gap between us.

But just like that, he was gone, stumbling up the stairs, leaving me flabbergasted.

"(Y/n)? What's wrong?" John snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to him.

"What do you mean? I'm fine!" I shot him a grin.

"Oh, nothing, just... you've been staring at the door ever since Sherlock went inside," he paused to check his watch, "5 minutes ago."

I gave a small start. I had been staring for 5 minutes? Giggling nervously, I shook my head. "Just got a little distracted, guess I didn't expect Sherlock to do that."

John hummed a response, rocking back on his heels and shoving his hands into his pockets as we watched Sherlock come bounding down the stairs and pick up another two boxes.

I felt another presence on my other side and I turned my head to see Mycroft, Sherlock's brother, watching the latter's actions with interest.

"What's gotten into him? He's not usually this..." John trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Friendly? Cheerful? Willing to help anyone besides himself?" Mycroft offered. John made a non-committal noise and walked away, picking up the last box left on the ground.

I watched him disappear into 221b before turning to Mycroft. "You want to tell me something, right?"

Mycroft smirked. "Correct." He turned to face me. "Normally, I would warn you to stay away from my brother, but it appears he's grown fond of you." He gave a short chuckle. "Sherlock Holmes feeling sentiment towards anyone- thought I'd never live to see the day."

Suddenly, Mycroft started to walk towards the open door of 221b. I quickly followed, barely catching his last few words. "I would warn you to stay away, but I find myself doing the exact opposite. Stay with him- it will do him some good." He stopped near the threshold. "Good luck, you'll need it if you're going to be living with Sherlock Holmes. See you around, (Y/n)."

He left swiftly, disappearing in the bustle of London life. All I could do was stare in the direction he'd gone until a shout from John had me bolting up the stairs.

I'd deal with Mycroft's words later. For now, I had a room to unpack.

~

It's a bit shorter than usual, but I hope you liked it!