Chapter 2
Chapter Two
SHERcockbLOCKed
* This is noncanonical BBC’s Sherlock self-insert fluff and probably too controversial to post, so it’s just for me! Like Brett is just for me!!!!!
Piper would have been lying if she’d told you that she wasn’t expecting to meet the love of her life that night at Eddie and Birdie’s wedding. That’s because she always expected to meet the love of her life. But she was so thrilled to be invited to this very special event at Union Station in Los Angeles that the thought of meeting the hot guy she’d spend the rest of her life with was slightly less important to her than seeing #Birdward legally unite in holy matrimony. And it was equally important to her to look after Declan and Maddie’s baby, of course, since that was officially why she had traveled from New York with them. She felt beautiful in her pink dress, and it was Valentine’s Day, after all. Here was an adult woman who celebrated love and romance every day of her life, but she was always extra excited on February fourteenth—the one day of the year when many people in the rest of the world focused on love and romance as much as she did.
Meanwhile, Sherlock was grumbling in an English accent with his deep, sexy voice, deriding his friend John for convincing him to accept the LAPD’s request for him to do some undercover work in Los Angeles. It didn’t matter to him at all that John was all the way across the Pond and could not hear him. There was no one he’d rather talk to than John Watson. But John was now married to Mary. And just like at John and Mary’s wedding, Sherlock was feeling something entirely unfamiliar and uncomfortable—loneliness. For the bride and groom looked so happy together. And as an internationally renowned, universally respected detective who must not allow anything quite so mundane as human emotions to distract him, he was even less likely to admit this to anyone—he felt lonely because it was Valentine’s Day.
He was skulking about the train station, pretending to be a waiter. He’d been hired to catch an art thief, and he was already bored… But as he glanced at a mirror, he realized at once that the game was on: The adult woman in the pink dress behind him was about to steal something much more priceless than a painting from the Getty Museum—she was going to steal his heart. She looked so lovely it was indeed a crime. Her fringe was so symmetrical and her spectacles framed her charming face in a bewitching manner.
Piper was crossing the room to visit the loo, casually checking out all the prime West Coast man booty when the very best specimen caught her eye. She realized he was staring at her reflection in the mirror, his luscious, full lips parted, his electric-blue eyes wide. Slowly, dramatically, he turned to face her. He was holding a tray full of champagne flutes, which he handed to the man next to him without even looking at him. It was a baller move. He tugged on the cuffs of his crisp white shirt as he closed the distance between himself and the beguiling lady.
“You have ink stains on the palm of your right hand and the unmistakable glint of a hopeful romantic in your dazzling brown eyes. You are the author of romance. And I deduce from the yawn you just suppressed that despite your unmatchable joie de vivre, you are suffering from jet lag. Your complexion is still dewy and not dehydrated from a very long plane ride, therefore you have traveled here from the East Coast of America. Your sophistication, confidence, and obvious street smarts imply big city savoir faire. You live in Manhattan. You aren’t directly related to the bride and groom, but you’re here to look after an infant.”
“How on earth did you know that?”
He smirked smirkily. “Elementary, my darling, radiant adult woman. You’re holding a baby bottle.”
So she was. “Indeed, I am. Well played.”
“You have not seen anything yet, milady. The name’s Holmes,” he said, winking. “Sherlock Holmes. And I should call you…?”
“Anytime,” she quipped quippily.
Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily because she was so witty.
Piper couldn’t help but glance around to admire this gentleman’s behind in the mirror. His IQ may have classified his intellect as very superior, but his butt was perfect beyond measure. Visibly hot in black slim-fit tuxedo pants, no less?! How had this beautiful man achieved the immaculate #bubblebuttgoals balance of firmness, roundness, and loft? Was he born this way, was he an athlete when he wasn’t serving refreshments, or did he have a strict regimen of squats and lunges with the specific intention of shaping his glutes? It was a mystery that Piper was determined to get to the bottom of. * LOLOL I crack myself up.
“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me when you’ve returned from the ladies’?” Sherlock inquired. “Or were you simply venturing to the rear hallway in order to peruse the selection of hot cross buns?”
“Yes,” she said, grinning demurely.
Sherlock held out his hand, but just as Piper was about to take it, the very well-dressed owner of the Holy Grail of Butts himself stepped between them.
“This…is problematic,” Declan Cannavale, Esquire, said. “Even though she is now an adult woman, I’m going to need you to sign this affidavit attesting to your good intentions regarding my niece.”
“Ahh,” Sherlock said sarcastically, “an American attorney. What a delight.”
“If you’d rather deal with someone who hails from the British Isles, might I suggest we take this outside?” Nolan Cassidy said menacingly, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his very attractive forearms.
“Let me guess,” said the detective, “you’re a former boxer and you have a very particular set of skills—skills that make you a nightmare for men who want to dance with this achingly beautiful young lady.”
“Yeah,” said Billy Boston, getting all up in the Brit’s pretty face, “and I know a guy who’ll kick your ass if you lay a hand on this emotionally mature adult woman. It’s me. I’m the guy.”
Finally, Eddie Cannavale himself stepped in. “Do we have a problem here? Is Lord Nevergonnagetit of Keepyourhandsoffpipershire about to get his comeuppance?”
Sherlock eyed him and in an instant he was able to deduce three things about this exceptionally good-looking man. “You are the groom, your bride has a crush on me, and you do crunches like your job depends on it, which means you are an actor by trade. Here’s an exciting role for you—I’m casting you as the one man here who is not foolish enough to attempt to come between myself and Piper.”
Piper looked around at these five exceptionally hot alpha men. She didn’t hate that Declan, Nolan, Billy Boston, and Eddie cared about her so much. She kind of loved it, actually. But what if they were protecting her from the love of her life?
Eddie studied Piper’s expression, considering what to do. He was an actor, so he understood motivations. He could see that his sister-in-law’s niece was highly motivated to put her mouth on this Englishman’s mouth. And so he came to a decision and said, “Stand down, gentlemen. Stand down.”
Declan, Nolan, Billy Boston, and Eddie took three steps back. Sherlock was cockblocked no more. He held out his hand to Piper once again. This time, she placed her hand in his, and he led her to the back hallway.
They ran to the quietest, darkest corner they could find. As soon as they reached that quiet, dark corner, Sherlock pressed Piper against the wall and hovered over her. His lips grazed her cheekbone, oh so delicately, but she felt it like a lightning strike everywhere.
Hope bloomed in her chest and desire pulsed between her clenched thighs. She was feeling things she had never felt before. All over. Was he The One? Was her HEA happening IRL RN?!
“Sorry about those guys,” she said in a hushed voice. “They’re kind of overprotective of me. I don’t know how to get around it.”
He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “I’ll take the case.”
“Good.” She was trembling all over. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it, my dear Piper. It’s happening. I’m here. And if I’m not mistaken—and I am never mistaken—you are arousing deep, positive human emotions in me, believe it or not.”
“Well, you know what they say…when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
He curled his index finger beneath her chin and tilted it up, that tiny, monumental bit. “True. I will now investigate your lips with my lips and eventually I will continue my investigation on the inside of your mouth with my tongue, my darling, but when you are ready and when you willingly, sexily give me your consent…I shall be thoroughly inspecting your knickers.”