Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started off as an innocent conversation with Shi (one of your best friends) in your 8th grade science class. Neither of you were paying attention (to be fair, you both had As and you ALWAYS slacked off in that class), and were talking about something incredibly irrelevant to the day’s lesson when she asked about the name on your wrist.

You knew everyone was born with a name on his or her wrist. Supposedly, this was the name of your soul mate, but you were skeptical about that. You knew your parents had each other’s name and were as happy as ever, but you’ve seen plenty of relationships fail even when their wrists matched, and plenty of others succeed when the wrists didn’t. You didn’t care if you ultimately fell for the faceless name you had or not. You just wanted to find someone who made you happy.

You laugh and then roll up your sleeve to reveal the name that’s been there all of your life. “Benedict Cumberbatch? It’s kind of a stupid name,” you say. “What’s yours?” “Robbert van der Corput? IDK. It’s an odd name too,” she responds right before you start laughing and realizing that, out of everyone you were friends with, the two of you would have the oddest names that nobody’s ever heard of. It was especially funny since you lived in scenic middle of nowhere and everyone you knew had a common name like “Eric” or “Sarah” and, if you didn’t know who your person was, you had a friend that did. Even out of your two other close female friends, one had the name of a close friend of yours who has had a crush on her for years, and the other had the name of a friend of yours that the two of you met at the local theater and was absolutely perfect for her (well, he would be once he actually got the courage to ask her out). Your laughter elicits a glare from your teacher, who asks if you completed the day’s assignment. Regaining your breath, you show her the filled out worksheet, saying that you finished it while she was still going over the instructions and, after she checks your answers against the key (you knew they were all correct; science has always been your strong suit and your passion), lets you and Shi resume your conversation, shifting to a song you heard on the radio recently by a popular boy band you two love.

Time passes, and you start getting a mentality that you won’t let this name dictate who you fall for, who you date, etc. You go through a phase where you cover it up with those thick rubber bracelets that stores like Hot Topic sell, and, by the time you get to high school, you’re in the routine of covering it up with makeup before going to school. By covering it up, you can pretend you’re one of the rare few who wasn’t born with a name. That way, people wouldn’t be asking about who you had and you wouldn’t have to keep explaining that you didn’t have the slightest clue and, frankly, didn’t care that much to deliberately go out and find them. If they were really your soul mate, you said, then somehow they’d find their way into your life. Plus, you learned that a lot of doctors covered theirs up when at work and, since that had been your dream for as long as you remembered, you figured that you should get into the habit now.

By the time you’re ending your senior year in high school, everyone you’re friends with have moved on from wondering who your names belong to. Two of your close friends (who had each other’s names on their wrists) have been happily dating for almost 4 years (everyone was relieved when he finally asked her out), and your other close friend has focused more on her recently made college decision than on your mutual theater friend. As for you and Shi, neither of you have really thought about your names since your conversation 4 years ago. You’re looking forward to going to your dream school in Washington, DC, and she’s excited to go to one near Chicago. Somehow the conversation shifts to TV shows, and she begins telling you about a series she found on Netflix that’s based on Sherlock Holmes. You laugh and make a joke about how, if you watched it, you might get the motivation to finally read all of the original short stories (something you said you’d do every summer since 8th grade and have yet to actually accomplish).

You convince your chemistry teacher that it is a good idea to put on the first episode of the show to watch in class (you had finished everything on the curriculum weeks ago and you claimed it was “educational” since you recently finished a forensic chemistry unit), and, as you and Shi begin watching, you instantly fall in love with the adaptation. You recognize one of the actors from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (one of your favorite movies and yet another book you’ve been meaning to read for years), and you find yourself semi-smitten with the one who plays Sherlock. There was something about him that you were drawn to, but you couldn’t quite place it. Was it the cheekbones? Maybe, but there was something else. It was probably the height and eyes, you thought to yourself. For as long as you could remember, you’ve always been drawn to men that are significantly taller than you (which wasn’t terribly hard, considering that you’re barely (y/height) on a good day) and one of the first things you notice about anyone is their eyes.

The bell signaling the end of the class period rings about 20 minutes before the episode is over, and, because your chemistry teacher has a study hall the next period and likes you and Shi, she lets you stay and finish the episode after calling your next period teacher and says that you’re finishing a research project (which is not entirely a lie). You begin packing your bag back up as the credits roll until Shi comments that one of the names of the actors seems familiar. She asks your teacher to rewind a couple of seconds and then pauses as the name of the actor who plays Sherlock fills the screen. Shi asks you to turn around and see if the name rings a bell to you. You tell her that you doubt it would, since all of the actors are British and the only one you recognized was Martin Freeman. But, still, you take a glance and you agree that something seems familiar about that name. “It’s a ridiculous name,” you comment before you realize that you do actually recognize it. Apparently, you get a really odd look on your face before you sprint over to one of the sinks at a lab bench and begin scrubbing at your wrist. Your chemistry teacher asks what you’re doing, and you comment that you want to see your name. Still fairly puzzled, she says that you’ve never had a name on your wrist and you simply reply, “I lied. Didn’t feel like explaining that I wasn’t as sold on the idea of this being your soul mate every time someone asked who he was. It was easier to just say I didn’t have one.”

Finally, the last of the makeup comes off of your wrist and, as you dry yourself off, you keep glancing between the screen and the permanently engraved letters. “Oh. My. God.” you say to anyone who is listening. Shi and your teacher both come over, and, lo and behold, the names perfectly match. “That doesn’t mean it’s HIM though. It could be anyone with that name” you remark to break the silence. “Yeah, but (y/n), how many people do you actually expect to have that name? It’s not exactly a common combination” Shi comments. “My bet is that it’s him.” “So what are you going to do now?” your chemistry teacher comments. “I honestly have no idea. I’ve always said that, if it’s really meant to be, then it’ll happen. But the fact that he’s famous and in a completely different continent kinda throws a wrench in that idea” you respond with a slight chuckle.

Still in shock, you finish packing up your things just as the bell rings and you head to your final class. The rest of the day goes by quickly. Your close friends notice your wrist, and, after recounting the afternoon’s adventure, find yourself asking the same question again: what am I going to do now? As you walk home after your class lets out, you head home and figure that, if anyone would be able to help, it’d be your mom. As you wait for her to get home from work, you get started on your homework for the evening. “If I knew what the steps were, this process would be a lot easier,” you think to yourself as you work on a statistics regression for a presentation. As you begin to return your textbook to your backpack, you mom walks in. You greet her at the door, and, as you do every day, ask her how her day was. She comments about some project she has at work and then asks if anything eventful has happened to you at school. You talk about your stats project, and some drama happening between two girls that you keep overhearing in the hallways. “Oh, I also think Imayhavefiguredoutwhomynamebelongsto” you quickly say (you have a habit of speed talking when you’re nervous). She inquires as to whom, and you slide your laptop over before quickly typing his name into Google. “Are you sure?” she says as she skims over his Wikipedia page. “He’s almost 20 years older than you. It could be anyone with this name.” “I know,” you respond, “but who else would have this name? Neither part is common as it is, and how likely am I to find another person with that combination?” Your mom sighs. “Ok. I think you may be right. Have you thought about what you want to do about this yet?”

“I have absolutely no idea if there’s anything I can do at this point. It’s not like I could exactly fly over to London tomorrow, knock on his door with a fruit basket and say ‘Hi you don’t have a clue who I am, but I have your name permanently marked onto my wrist, so apparently we’re soul mates’ and expect that to end well. I think I’m just going to focus on finishing up the school year and starting college before I figure out what my next step is. You know where I’ve stood on the names since the beginning, and I’m not sacrificing my education for the slim chance that he’s my ‘one true love,’” you say, eliciting a smile that radiates pride from your mom before taking all of you school stuff up to your room to clear the table off for dinner.

Chapter Text

Before you know it, you’ve graduated high school and are registering for your fall semester classes. With graduation, work, and college prep, you haven’t really had time to further consider what to do about your supposed soul mate. You figure that neither of you are really going anywhere, so there’s no reason to rush into things. Which brings you back to your current problem: course selection. You think you have everything sorted out except for your required writing class. Writing has never been your strong suit, so you try to find a class that is on a topic you could get really interested in. You scan what’s being offered: “Politics? No. Film Noir? Eh, maybe. Super storms? Too depressing. Fandoms? Yes! That’s perfect!” you exclaim quietly to yourself. To be able to geek out on a regular basis AND get college credit for it seems like a dream come true. Thankfully, when you go to actually register, everything goes smoothly and you get into the class as well as everything else you requested (including a self defense course).

Once you start the class, you realize that signing up for this section was a wonderful idea. The entire course is centered around a long paper focused on an aspect of a fandom that you choose. You choose to write your paper on the fans surrounding Sherlock Holmes and all of the adaptations since you love the books and figured it’d be relatively easy since there’s over 125 years of information. The more you get into the research, the more in love with the topic you become. You begin to pour your heart into the project and begin to draw together connections that, to the best of your knowledge, haven’t been drawn before. Even though you only end up getting a B+ on the paper, you know you want to take it further than just your class. So, with the help of your professor, you work at it and are given the opportunity to present it at a professional conference the upcoming summer.

After the spring semester ends, your attention shifts from school to this presentation. As nervous as you are to be presenting to a room that is full of people who are not only older than you, but have a higher education and are more experienced, you’re also incredibly excited. Ever since you decided that you were going to try to present this paper somewhere, you’ve joked with your mom that your goal was to have this paper take you to London. You’ve always wanted to travel to the city, even before you found out about Sherlock or Benedict. To be able to fulfill this dream and be able to contribute what you’ve learned to someone who is as passionate about the subject as you are would be an amazing opportunity. So, every time you ran your presentation to your empty couch or read over your paper looking for any errors, you thought to yourself, “Pretend you’re doing this as a consultant for the BBC and you’ve been called in to provide background for an episode of Sherlock. Show them that, although you may be young, you’re smart and, in this situation, you’re the expert. You know what you’re talking about. Make everyone proud.”

A few weeks later, you find yourself on a plane bound for Dallas, TX (the site of the conference). You can’t tell whether the butterflies in your stomach are because you’re excited or nervous, but you try to calm yourself down since you’re not actually presenting until the next day. The flight itself is uneventful: you successfully navigated your layover and were able to watch The Avengers on the longer second leg. Once you get to the hotel where your conference is being held, you check in and head up to your room. You unpack and hang up the outfit you brought for the next day: a simple black skirt and light blue blouse. You reach in to your suitcase and pull out what looks like a simple white infinity scarf, but you know is actually printed with the text from one of the original Sherlock Holmes stories (you convinced your mom to order it for you as a good luck charm and as a way to “have a little bit of Sherlock on stage with you”). You smile as you think back to last night, as you talked to your younger brother about your trip. He knew about your name and how you didn’t want to do anything about it yet, but he did ask you what you would do if Benedict was in the audience. You smiled and said that you’d pretend he wasn’t there while you presented and, if he asked something as part of the Q & A at the end, you’d treat him as if he was anyone else… and then proceed to freak out after you walked off the stage. He laughed with you and then told you that you would “rock your presentation.”

Still smiling from the memory, you call your mom to let her know that you were unpacked and had arrived in one piece as you walked back down to where the conference is being held. As she wishes you luck and reminds you (yet again) to call her after you’re done to tell her how it went, you approach the desk where you check in and receive your presenter badge. You thank everyone again for accepting your paper and, as you turn to head back up to your room, you think you see a familiar face head towards the desk. Confused, you glance again and realize that you were mistaken. The elevator arrives and you head back to your room, ready to order some room service and settle down with a movie. Satisfied with your dinner choice of a simple burger and fries, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that the hotel TV has Thor: The Dark World on Pay-Per-View. You enjoy your quiet, relaxing, evening and, before long, you call it a night and head to bed.

You wake up with your phone blaring the Bill Nye the Science Guy theme song in your ear (your choice ringtone since, well, you ARE a science nerd), and you’re reminded that today’s the big presentation day. You turn on your playlist filled with movie scores and other instrumental songs and allow the music to relax your nerves as you prepare yourself. You almost forget to cover up your name (which you still do in order to prevent the unnecessary questions), and breath a sigh of relief as you see the name disappear under a layer of foundation. As you wrap your special scarf around your neck, you take a moment to realize that you’re doing something that, a year ago, you never would have even considered to even be a possibility. You add a final touch of lip gloss, pop a few mints, grab your laptop and slide advancer, and leave your room with a sense of confidence.

You enter the room where your presentation is being held, you are greeted by one of the conference chairs who shows you where to set up your laptop and tells you that, in about 10 minutes, they’ll open the doors to allow the attendees to enter and sit down. You hook up everything and, after running through your slides and video clips to make sure that everything is working properly, take your seat offstage. You hear the footsteps of people, which begins to set off a new swarm of butterflies in your stomach. “Deep breaths,” you remind yourself, “Remember: you’re the expert. They want to hear what you have done. You know this presentation like the back of your hand. You’ve got this.”

Almost immediately after you calm yourself, you’re ushered back onto the stage to begin your presentation. Surprisingly, it goes off without a hitch. Everyone laughed at the funny parts of the video clip, and some people even stood when they applauded you at the end. You feel yourself beaming as you begin the Q & A portion. Many of the questions you expected: what you do for a living (you can hear some people gasp as you say that you just finished your freshman year at college as a biology major and psychology minor), what inspired you to do this research (the books and the BBC show), where you would like to see this go in the future (connecting all of the fans of all of the adaptations), and if you want to continue this work (you want to shift your work to include more of your beloved science). Then, the person with the very last question is chosen, and you could swear that you’ve seen him before. He’s on the taller side, with lighter, almost red hair, and he holds himself with a confidence that leads you to connect that he was the man that you saw yesterday after checking in. His question catches you slightly off guard: “If you could say anything to anyone involved with Sherlock Holmes, what would you say, and who would you say it to?”

“Well,” you reply, “I’d love to thank Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for writing the books in the first place, even though he never wanted to be remembered for them. They were the whole reason I gained an interest in the idea of a consulting detective and, without them, I wouldn’t have had anything to write about. I’d then want to thank everyone involved with the BBC show for reminding me why I fell in love with the stories in the first place and for giving me a way to connect with so many people that I probably would have never met. It’s kind of funny,” you say with a slight laugh, “one of my best friends got me hooked on the show, and I became friends with two of the people in my self defense class because we all liked Sherlock. Almost a year later, we still find ourselves discussing the things we learned in class to the stunt work done in Sherlock. I’m sorry if I digressed, but what I really wanted to say is that I’d want to thank everyone who has ever been involved with anything remotely Sherlock Holmes-related. This was the first paper I’ve ever been this passionate about, and I couldn’t imagine doing it on any other topic.” Somehow, that response elicits another standing ovation and, as you thank the audience again, you’re ushered off the stage.

Riding your newfound adrenaline high, you call your mom to tell her all of the details as you search for a water bottle (you suddenly found yourself very parched) and, as you hang up from her, the man who asked the very last question at your presentation stops you. You didn’t recognize him earlier since he was sitting in the very back row, but now you realize that he’s Mark Gatiss, the man who plays Mycroft on Sherlock and also co-writes and co-produces the show. He expresses how much he enjoyed your presentation and asks if he could have a word with you in private. Starstruck, you invite him back up to your room (since the ground floor is filled with people for your conference as well as an anime convention). Once there, he asks if you’ve ever been to London. You tell him that you’ve always wanted to go and how you joked with your mom about having this paper take you all there. “Well,” he says, “what would you say if I offered you an internship as a consultant on the set of Sherlock when we start production for the next series? It would be paid, of course, and we would provide you an apartment and car for when you’re out here. You’d probably start in January, which would allow you to finish up your fall semester before flying out, and we’d pay for you to take a class or two online so you can keep up with your education.” You sit there with what you would imagine is an incredibly stupid look on your face. “I-I-I’d love that!” you finally manage to spit out. “I mean, I would have to clear it with my family since they are partially paying for my education, but I don’t see how they could say no to this!” “Great!” he responds. “You would be working not only with making sure the show follows most of the details from the original stories, but, since you mentioned that you are also going to school for the sciences, you also would be working with setting up the experiments and other science factors that are seen on screen. Do you think you would be up for that?” You smile as you say that you’d be working with your two favorite things: science and Sherlock, and that this would be a dream come true. He promises to email you the full details in a couple of minutes and, after you thank him yet again as he leaves your room, you call your mom and dad practically screaming with excitement. They can tell how excited and passionate you are about this opportunity and, with their blessings, you later email Mark officially accepting the internship.

You glance down at your wrist, knowing the words that are underneath the makeup. Maybe this whole “soul mate” thing was actually meant to be.

Chapter Text

The rest of your summer and fall pass by in a blur and, as you say goodbye to your roommate at college, you pack up the few items in your dorm that haven’t been shipped to London already. You don’t actually leave until after the new year, but Mark told you that he already had your apartment rented out and that anything you ship will be waiting for you when you move in. You spend the next few weeks at home, spending time doing everything from shopping for work clothing with your mom to finally having a Hobbit and Lord of the Rings marathons with your friends from high school. Christmas comes and your family gives you some posters to hang up at work (Mark said you’ll have an actual office, but, for all you know, it could be a repurposed broom closet), as well as some other items for your apartment. Your favorite gift, however, comes from your brother, who surprises you with a necklace that resembles the chemical structure of caffeine (he knows how you have a weak spot for anything from Starbucks and love anything remotely geeky).

A little over a week later, you pack up your suitcases and give your family one last hug before you board the plane that’s taking you across the pond. Your mom makes sure that you have the instructions that Mark sent you the other day in your pocket, and, as you reassure her that you have it an another copy in your carry-on bag, wave goodbye as you leave to go through security. The flight itself is pretty uneventful; you manage to catch a few hours of sleep before the pilot signals that you’re making your final descent into the UK. You pull out the folded piece of paper that you’ve kept in your pocket and review what you’re supposed to do now that you’ve reached your new home.

After grabbing your luggage, you hail a cab and give them the address to your apartment (“wait, they’re called ‘flats’ here” you silently remind yourself). You knock on the door of the first flat, and meet your new landlord. He seems nice enough, and gives you your key. Unlocking the door, you walk into a beautifully furnished space. To your left is a full kitchen, with a beautiful floral arrangement as well as a few gift bags waiting for you on the table. Straight ahead is a short hallway leading to what you assume is the bathroom, your bedroom, and a closet. Your living room has what appears to be one of the softest couches you have ever seen, a very large flat-screen TV, and a wall lined entirely with bookshelves. “Mark, you’ve spoiled me,” you whisper as you proceed to your new bedroom. You let out a small gasp as you see the view from your window. The city is laid out before you, every building illuminated in front of the rapidly darkening sky. You unpack your suitcases and hang their contents in the closet and dresser that beautifully match the dark wood bed behind you and set off to begin unpacking the multitude of boxes that currently line your living room floor.

Before you start, however, your inquisitive mind remembers the gift bags and flowers waiting for you in the kitchen. You notice a small card tucked in with the flowers and, when you open it, find a short message: “Welcome to the team! Mark, Benedict, Martin, and Steven.” Smiling, you place it back into the bouquet and open the first of the gift bags and reveal a brand new iPad. A small note attached to the box reads that Mark forgot to tell you that they like members of the production team to have tablets that they can easily access all of the files they need on it. As you open the other bags, you find a sleeve for your tablet, the key to your new office, as well as a few Sherlock-themed items. The biggest bag, however, you open last and find that it holds a beautiful lab coat embroidered with “y/f/i y/l/n, Consulting Scientist” over the left breast pocket and a pair of purple lab goggles. You never told anyone that purple is one of your favorite colors, but an accompanying note jokes that it seemed appropriate that you had a little bit of purple since one of the iconic outfits on the show is the “purple shirt of sex.”

You plug in your laptop and pull up one of your favorite playlists. As the music fills the flat, you unpack all of the boxes and the place begins to feel like home. The wall of bookshelves becomes filled with some of your favorite stories, the walls become lined with photos of your family and friends as well as some pieces of art you ordered online and, as you collapse the last box, think about how lucky you are for this opportunity. You order dinner from one of the local restaurants that offers delivery (you have to remember to thank Mark for leaving you some menus) and relax in front of the TV for a while. Glancing at the calendar, you think that, since tomorrow’s Saturday, nobody will be at the building where your office is located, giving you a chance to move everything in without contending with your fellow employees. You email Mark to make sure that it’s ok if you do that and, getting his approval, schedule a car to pick you up in the morning before calling it a night.

The next morning, you wake up and throw on a pair of jeans and a simple long-sleeved shirt, quickly style your hair and apply basic makeup. You don’t bother trying to cover up your wrist since you figure that you’re not going to see anyone besides your driver and, even if you run into someone, you’re able to cover it up with your sleeves. The driver beeps to let you know that he’s outside and, grabbing your laptop and the box filled with everything you set aside to go to your office yesterday, head towards the BBC office building. You greet the security officer at the gate, who lets you pass through and directs you towards the area where your office is located as well as where you need to go to get your ID badge. The driver lets you out where the officer told him to, and you grab your box and head upstairs.

You unlock the door, and are surprised at how large the office is. You weren’t expecting a huge office to begin with, but you’re still pleasantly surprised. You prop the door open, set your box down on the desk that faces the door and take a moment to look out of the two windows that look out on the bustling city scene below. You decide that it’s way too quiet and pull up your main playlist on your laptop. The first song comes on and, since you figure that nobody’s around to hear you, sing along as you roll up your sleeves and begin sorting through the items you brought from your flat. A beautifully framed periodic table finds its place on the far wall, alongside a framed quote that has stuck with you for a while. You place a photo of you and your brother on your desk right as the song changes to Mayday Parade’s cover of “When I Grow Up” by the Pussycat Dolls. Shamelessly, you do something that’s not quite a dance (it’s a lot of shaking your lower body back and forth) as you place some of your textbooks from college onto the shelf above your desk. As the song ends, you strike an overly dramatic pose, which elicits a chuckle and applause from an unknown source.

Startled, you turn around and find Benedict Cumberbatch leaning against the doorframe. “Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit” you think to yourself as you ask him how long he’s been standing there. “Not long,” he responds with a light laugh. “I wanted to introduce myself before you officially began working, and, when Mark mentioned that you would be in today, I figured that now would be a good time. I’m Benedict.” “(y/n),” you respond as you shake his outstretched hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Thank you for the lovely flowers in my flat.” As you shake his hand, you realize that your sleeve is still rolled up and his name is clearly visible on your wrist. You try to maintain eye contact with him as you nonchalantly roll your sleeves down. Fortunately, he doesn’t appear to have noticed anything, and he asks you how your flight was. You tell him it was uneventful and two of you go on to briefly discuss your new flat and office. He seems genuinely interested and wants to make sure that you haven’t had any issues during your short time here. You reassure him that everything’s been perfect so far and that it couldn’t have gone any smoother. “I don’t mean this to sound creepy, but I feel like I know your name somehow,” he suddenly says. “Well, I’ve had this job since the summer, so it could have easily been said during a production meeting or something like that,” you respond, slightly caught off-guard. “No, I feel like I’ve known it longer. I just can’t place it,” he says. You can tell it bothers him that he doesn’t know. Curious, you take a quick glance at his wrist, which is slightly exposed. There doesn’t appear to be a name, but you think you recognize the slight sheen that comes with recently applied makeup. He asks if you have any plans for the night and, when you respond that you didn’t, he offers to take you out for dinner and show you around the city, “like your own personal tour guide.” You smile and say that you would love that, and you settle on him picking you up at your apartment at around 7 that night. You mention that you were going to finish putting the last few things from your box in their rightful place and then were going to call a car to take you home, and he offers to wait and drive you home since he goes right past your apartment building. He refuses your attempts to turn him down since he “didn’t really have to,” and, not long afterwards, the two of you leave and walk towards the parking lot.

“Have you ever ridden a motorbike before?” he asks right before you shoot him a puzzled look. “Um… no?” you respond, “Why?” He lets out another laugh. “Well, this will be fun,” he says as you realize that he’s handing you a helmet and the two of you are standing in front of a very fast-looking motorcycle. He hops on as you put the helmet on and he gives you very simple directions as you sit behind him: “Hold on.” Your grip around his waist tightens as he pulls out and onto the road. Part of you enjoys the ride and the fact that you doing something that so many people would kill to experience, while the other part is instantly relieved when you see your building and the bike slows down in the parking lot. The two of you disembark and, as you remove your helmet, he asks how you enjoyed the ride. “I’ll be honest. I was incredibly terrified. But it was a lot of fun,” you say as the two of you walk towards your flat. “I could tell,” he says with a smile. “So I’ll see you at 7 then?” “Yep. See you at 7!” you say as you disappear into your flat with a wave.

Chapter Text

“What? No!” “Yes! That’s what happened! Would I make this up?” “No, but AAAHHH!” Shai screams through the phone. As soon as you saw Benedict’s bike leave the parking lot, you called her and told her about your adventure at the office and your plans. She was currently on speakerphone as you took a shower. “So is it a date or what?” she asks. “To be honest, I don’t know. He made it sound just like it was dinner between two coworkers, and then he was going to show me around the city at night,” you respond as you step out of the shower and begin to dry yourself. “Did you get a glimpse at his wrist?” she says as you wrap your hair up in a towel, wrap another one around yourself and make your way back to your room to find your outfit for the evening. “I saw a little bit of it. It looked blank, but I think it had that slight sheen that mine gets when I cover it up.” “Aww,” she says, disappointed. “You better keep me updated!” “Of course, Shai. What type of friend would I be if I didn’t? And while we’re talking about wrists, did you ever figure out who your name belongs to?” “Yeah, I did. He’s actually a really popular DJ, but he has a girlfriend.” “That sucks. But don’t let it get to you,” you respond before hanging up and beginning to root through your closet to find an outfit.

Fortunately, you remember that you picked up a really cute dress before you flew out here, and you pull it out and think that it would be perfect. It was a black dress that came to a couple of inches above your knee, had one long sleeve with an exposed shoulder and a studded strap on the opposite side. Hanging it on your closet door, you threw on a tank top and athletic shorts as you went back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. After turning on some music (you really hate silence), you decided to pull your (h/l, h/c) over to one side of your head and to slightly curl it. The next task on your list was to do your makeup, which was almost second nature for you. You put on some eye shadow that had a nice shimmer to it while also complementing your (e/c) eyes and somehow manage to apply your eyeliner perfectly on the first try. Once again, you almost forget to cover up your wrist, but manage to catch yourself and make it practically invisible.

Satisfied, you return to your room and put on the dress. You admire yourself in the mirror for a second and, right as you begin to put on a pair of earrings, you hear the doorbell ring. Checking your phone, you realize that Benedict is slightly early, and you greet him at the door. He’s wearing an outfit that seems right out of Sherlock: a solid button down shirt, suit jacket, and black dress pants (all of which appear freshly ironed). You can see in his eyes that he’s slightly stunned by your drastic change in appearance from earlier, so you make a quick joke about your outfit and invite him inside while you finish getting ready. You see him stroll over to your bookshelf out of the corner of your eye and, with you yelling from your bedroom, briefly discuss Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein. He mentions that he was in a stage adaptation of it, while you say that you’ve been meaning to read it for ages and finally started reading it on the plane ride yesterday before you fell asleep. After digging out a pair of silver heels, you grab your purse and jacket and walk back out into your living room. He offers you his arm like a gentleman before the two of you walk out to the cab he has waiting (he apologizes and says that his car is getting repairs at the moment).

He opens the door for you, and you slide in before he follows suit. Ben leans forward to give the driver the address of a restaurant. An incredibly genuine smile floats across his face as he mentions that it’s one of his places in the city, and you return it and say that you’re excited. During the rest of the car ride, he begins to play tour guide and points out various buildings that you drive past. Your eyes light up (you’ve always been in love with cities in general) and, for a brief second, you swear that you could see Benedict glance at you and smile out of the corner of your eye. Shortly after, you pull up to a small restaurant tucked into a side street right in the heart of London, and, after paying the driver, he helps you out of the cab (you silently think that you could get used to this “men actually acting like gentlemen” thing).

The two of you enter the restaurant and, when he gives his name to the host, are directed to a small table in the back. He pulls out your chair for you and, when you both are seated, asks if you want to order a bottle of wine. You’re slightly surprised by this request, and then remember that it’s legal for you to drink here, and tell him to surprise you with a bottle. The two of you order (you decide on a chicken dish and he orders a steak), and, when the wine arrives shortly after, begin getting to know each other. You tell him the stories about how you got into the sciences and how you have probably the widest range of musical tastes, while he talks about some of his favorite projects and adventures. Maybe it was the wine (although you hadn’t finished a glass yet), but you felt as comfortable around him as you did with your best friends from home. Even after your meals arrive, you keep talking and, by the time you’re finished and he pays the bill (after you offered to pay your portion and he told you to put your wallet away), you feel like you’ve known each other for years.

Leaving the restaurant, Benedict leads you towards the center of the city, pointing out different things along the way to your unknown destination. Every so often, you take a picture or two with your phone and, maybe 20 minutes into your “tour,” Ben tells you to grab his hand and close your eyes because he “wants to show you something that’s absolutely breathtaking.” You can’t say why you trust this man who you only met earlier that day, but you go along with it, following him blindly until he tells you to stop. The ground beneath you shifts, and, a minute or two later, he finally tells you to open your eyes. You gasp as you realize that you’re standing in a private car on the London Eye. All of the lights below you make you feel like you can see the entire city and fill you with a sense of amazement… until you realize exactly how high up you are. You weren’t exactly scared of heights, but you weren’t the most comfortable person when it came to standing on anything that you knew could fall (no matter how unlikely). Out of instinct, you grab the closest thing to you, which just so happens to be Ben’s arm. “Are you ok?” he acts, looking concerned about your newly exposed vulnerability. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you say, taking in a deep breath. “I just have this issue with heights. I’m not scared, but I’m nowhere near as comfortable as I am on solid ground. Sorry if I startled you.” As you release his arm, he wraps it around you. “Don’t apologize. I’ve got you, and you’re not going anywhere,” he whispers as he pulls you closer. You’re caught slightly off guard by this sudden display of affection, but you go with it and glance up and thank him before resting your head against his chest. For the remainder of the ride, the two of you stand like that in silence and appreciate the magnificent view, with him occasionally pointing out a landmark or something else you would appreciate.

Unfortunately, your ride ends far too soon for your liking and, once the two of you are back on stable ground, you mention that you should probably be heading back to your flat in the near future. You can tell he’s disappointed, but you explain that you still have things to do before work on Monday, which seems to dissipate some of his disappointment. “Thank you for everything tonight. It was really nice seeing the city with a local,” you say with a soft smile. “Of course, (y/n). I enjoyed tonight, too. Maybe we can do it again?” he responds, smiling as well. “I’d like that. I don’t know what my work schedule is yet, but I hopefully will know on Monday. Maybe we could plan something then?” “That works for me. Here, before I forget-give me your phone quickly.” “Um, ok?” you say slightly puzzled before unlocking and handing him your phone. He types something in and then hands it back. “Let me help you hail a cab, and then can you text me when you get back to your flat? Just so I know that nothing happened to you?” Ah. That’s what he did: he gave you his number. At least that saves you the awkwardness of having to ask for it. “Of course,” you say before the two of you begin waving your arms in an attempt to have a cab pull over. Fortunately, it doesn’t take long before one sees the two of you and, when it drives a little bit past you, the two of you sprint to catch it before another person grabs it. “Thank you again, Ben. I’ll see you on Monday then.” you say as you get in and, with a parting smile, close the door behind you.

You give the driver the address of your flat and take a moment to process everything that just happened. Shai’s question from earlier that evening rings in your head: was this actually a date? During dinner, you would have easily said that it wasn’t, but then everything on the Eye is starting to make you think otherwise. The cab pulls in and, after paying, you enter your flat and begin to call it a night. You remember that Benedict wanted you to let him know when you got home and, as you did back home, tried to think of a picture you could take that proved that you were actually texting from your flat. Thinking of your earlier conversation, you pull your copy of Frankenstein off of the bookshelf. You open it and take a selfie of you with it and send it, captioning it with “Hey Benedict it’s (y/n). I’m back safe and sound. Thank you again ☺. See you Monday!” The familiar “woosh” lets you know that the image sent, and you set the book and your phone down on the couch before you go get everything ready to call it a night. You thrown on a pair of pajamas, take your contact lenses out, wipe your makeup off and are walking back to the couch when your hear the “ding” that accompanies a new text message. “I’m glad you’re back and safe. Let me know how far you get in the book. Maybe we can talk about it more on Monday? ~B” greets you as you wrap yourself in a throw blanket and settle down, still letting your thoughts drift back to your wonderful evening.

Chapter Text

Sunday you’re able to get everything you’re needed done. Your outfits are ironed and ready to go for the week, your fridge is stocked with everything you need to pack for lunch, and the only real thing you have to worry about is actually getting to and from work. Fortunately, Mark already has that figured out, and has a car scheduled to transport you until you’re able to get your license switched over (then you get to pick out a nice rental car. Ah, the perks of working for a major television corporation). When you wake up Monday morning, you’re filled with a nervous and excited energy as you prepare for your first day at your dream internship. As far as first impressions were concerned, you decided to stick with a more professional outfit: black dress pants, a dark green button-down blouse, and black pumps.

You meet Mark at the main entrance, where he officially welcomes you to the Sherlock team. The two of you catch up on what has changed since you were offered the internship as he gives you the grand tour of the building. You meet up with Steven about halfway through, who expresses his excitement over adding someone so young to the production team. The tour ends right as you reach what the men say will be your staging ground for designing, testing, and prepping all of the experiments that will be on the show. You open the door, and immediately you feel like you’re at home. The spacious lab is laid out very similarly to the one you worked in back in college. Two long lab benches sit in the middle of the room, while identical counters line three of the walls. The fourth wall is completely covered by a white board and a door leading to a back closet filled with any and all supplies you might need. You say goodbye to Mark and Steven, who remind you that the first read-through is that afternoon before leaving a sheet with some projects they want you to start on. Many of the items on the list you’ve done before: blood typing, prepping and growing bacteria, a couple basic chemical reactions, and then you see something you’ve always wanted to do: freeze something in liquid nitrogen and then causing it to shatter (they noted that the scene was going to involve Sherlock running an experiment in 221B and then dropping something frozen, scaring Mrs. Hudson).

You glance around and, fortunately, find a cooler, gloves, and a container of liquid nitrogen next to a bag and note that says “Have some fun!” Opening the bag, you find some racquetballs, fake eyes, and a bag of marshmallows. You’re pulling on your new lab coat and glasses when you hear a knock at the door. You yell at them that the door’s unlocked, and in walks Benedict and Martin. Benedict introduces the two of you, and Martin comments that Ben has spoken a lot about you. Slightly embarrassed, you say that you hope it was all positive. He assures you that it was, and the three of you begin talking about your work. You explain how you’re supposed to figure out how to rig all of the experiments to work on screen, and then mention that you’re actually getting ready to start a trial and that the two of them are more than welcome to stay and watch. Martin says he has to go do a costume fitting, but, surprisingly, Benedict stays.

Figuring that, if he’s going to stay, he might as well be useful, you ask him to give you a hand in moving the container of liquid nitrogen closer to the benches (they’re a lot heavier than they look). You hand him a pair of the spare goggles that were lying around, and unsuccessfully try to hold back laughter as you see him in them. Unlike yours (which resembled the safety glasses that carpenters wear), his are the stereotypical thick, plastic ones with the black strap that wraps around his entire head. He makes a face that says, “Yes, I know I look stupid, but I don’t care!” which makes you laugh even more before you finish prepping for the demo. With the cooler now steaming from the liquid nitrogen, you explain how, since the boiling point is so low, the racquetball you threw in should freeze and shatter. You pull the ball out and, just like you predicted, shatters when you throw it in front of you. He chuckles at the look of pure joy on your face when you tell him that you’ve been waiting (y/a) years to do that. Since he keeps laughing, you decide to jokingly throw a piece of the ball (which has now thawed and returned to its normal bouncy self) at him. He thanks you for letting him kill some time with you and for the "lovely souvenir" before he had to meet with Mark and Steven, and you tell him that he’s always welcome in your lab.

Benedict departs, and you’re left once again with an empty lab. You return the unused liquid nitrogen to its container (you’ll figure out how to rig it better for the show later), and begin working on some of the other things on your list. Time passes and, before you know it, you are gathering your things up to head to your first read-through. The amount of chairs intimidates you, and you find your place card up at the front near the rest of the production team. You make sure you have everything you need and you begin pulling up a note-taking app on your iPad as everyone else slowly filters in. Benedict and Martin both smile and wave at you as they take their places and, shortly after, your tablet lights up with an incoming message. “Excited for your first read-through? ~B” You smile, “Haha yeah I’m excited! I’m just here to see the context that my experiments fit into, so that will be interesting. How about you? Ready for round 4?” “I’m always excited to come back here. Did you ever find out your work schedule? ~B” “Yep. 9-5 Monday-Friday. I think that’s what it’ll be until filming starts and I have to be on set to make sure everything is set up.” “So would you want to go out to dinner and a movie Friday night? ~B” “Sure!” you hesitate before you type the next part, “Although I do have to ask: is this a date?” Ever since you got home Saturday night, you weren’t quite sure where the two of you stood. When you left that night, you were confident that it was just dinner between coworkers, but, after the whole incident that happened on the Eye, you weren’t quite sure. You quickly shoot off another text, “Just so I know we’re both on the same page,” before leaning down to grab something out of your bag. When you sit back up, you tablet lights up: “I’d like it to be. I mean, if that’s something you’d like :) ~B.” You look his way, and you can see he has a sort of expectant look on his face. You smile and slightly nod at him as you send him, “Well, I guess it’s a date then ;) Pick me up around 7 again?” “Sounds like a plan! I’ll see you then. Oh, and don’t wear anything fancy-this is casual! ~B”

As soon as you read this, Steven begins the read-through. He introduces you to everyone as the “consulting scientist,” which causes you to blush and give a shy wave. You do see Benedict, however, give you a reassuring smile as all of the actors go over who they’re reading for. The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly: you’re able to find where everything you have to set up fits in, and you’re excited about the plot and where it’s going. Afterwards, a group of people comes up to you to officially introduce themselves, and, although you truly feel welcomed into the team, you’re not used to all of the attention. You excuse yourself to go finish up a couple of things in the lab, and find a welcome silence waiting for you. You’re slightly overwhelmed by everything that has gone on today, so you put on some string quartet music (it has always helped you in situations like this). A cover of Iron and Wine’s “Flightless Bird, American Mouth” comes on, and you lose yourself in it as you clean up the miscellaneous beakers and other things you used throughout the day.

You find yourself softly singing along, and you hear a light knock on the door before the door quietly opens and Benedict walks in. “I wanted to talk to you after the read-through, but I couldn’t find you. Should’ve known you would be in here,” he says after closing the door behind him. “Sorry about that,” you apologize as you lean up against one of the benches, “I wasn’t quite prepared for all of the attention. I got a little overwhelmed and needed to clear my head for a second. But what’s up?” “I just wanted to make sure you were sure that you wanted Friday night to be an actual date. It’s ok if you don’t, I won’t mind,” he says, concerned. “Benedict, if you’re sure, I’m sure,” you respond. His facial features relax a little as he hears your response, and he returns your smile. “Good. Great! Yeah, great!” he says, “I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before I interrupted.” As he gets up to leave, you catch him. “You didn’t interrupt anything. Actually, if you’re not doing anything, you’re more than welcome to stay and hang out here with me.” He pulls up a stool and sits down while you finish cleaning up. The two of you talk about how you thought the read-through went, what you liked, what you think will happen in the second episode (neither of you have gotten the script yet), how the rest of your day went, and anything else that comes up in conversation. As you dry off the last beaker and put it in its proper space, he asks if you had any preference as to what movie the two of you saw on Friday. You tell him that you’re pretty easy to please: as long as it’s not a sappy romantic movie, you’re happy. With a mischievous grin, he says he’ll remember that, and you joke that you’re now scared before he offers to walk you to your car. You smile as you take him up on his offer.

Chapter Text

The rest of week goes by pretty smoothly. Your mornings are spent in the lab with Benedict sitting in and keeping you company (if he didn’t have some form of rehearsal that he had to be at), while the afternoons have you doing anything from attending meetings (which were useless since 99% of the time the topics discussed didn’t have anything to do with your job, so you ended up playing 2048 the entire time) to doing research for Mark and Steven on some aspect of the original stories that they wanted to modernize. You didn’t mind the deskwork, but you could typically find whatever was needed in under an hour and ended up spending the rest of the afternoon browsing the Internet in order to try to keep up with what was happening both here and back home. Every evening, you went home and made something for dinner and either curled up with Frankenstein or watched something on Netflix. You always commented how you thought it was quiet and slightly lonely in your flat, even with music or the TV playing in the background, so you made a note to yourself to look into the process of possibly adopting a cat.

Seeing your movie date with Benedict on your calendar for Friday helps make the monotony of your work day go by a little faster. He started stunt training that morning, so you’re all alone in the lab, which allows you to release some of your nervous/excited energy by uninhibitedly dancing while you’re working. You’re doing something involving a lot of head banging to Evanescence’s “What You Want” when Martin walks in and laughs before telling you that Mark and all of the big wigs have meetings for afternoon and that, if you wanted to, you could take the afternoon off. Obviously, you’re going to take them up on that offer, so you begin cleaning up the remnants of today’s experiment and you text Ben to let him know that you’re heading home early and to make sure that you’re still on for tonight. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Have you though any more about what you want to go see? ~B” comes across shortly after and, as you lock up and leave the lab, send off, “I told you, anything but romance. Surprise me ;)”

With your newfound afternoon, you decide to explore some of the nearby shops. One of the first shops you look in has a really cute shirt on sale that would look perfect with a pair of dark jeans and your black knee-high boots. Justifying that you’re buying it for tonight, you take it up to the cash register when, all of a sudden, your phone rings. The caller ID says that it’s Benedict (which you think is odd since you’re seeing him in a couple hours and he’s never called you before) and, when you pick up, you hear a very stressed out voice at the other end say, “I think we may have to reschedule tonight.” Confused (and slightly disappointed), you ask, “why?” “One of my neighbors said that there’s a lot of people with cameras stationed outside of my house. I think somehow, they got wind about our date tonight and they want to follow me there. They’ve always been incredibly fascinated with my love life for some reason, and that’s something I want to keep as private as possible. I’m so terribly sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” “Well, I think I have an idea,” you respond, “can you get from the studio to my flat without getting hounded? I’m out now, but I could meet you there and we could do take-out and watch a DVD or a movie online. Then, hopefully, everyone at your place gets bored and leaves by the time the movie’s over.” “That’s actually a really good idea. But wouldn’t you rather have an actual date, where two people go somewhere together instead of spending it at home?” “Ben, I said I’d go out with you, not the restaurant or movie theater. It’ll still be fun!” “Great. I’ll see you in half an hour, then?” “Yep. I’ll see you then!” you say before hanging up your phone. You (finally) pay for your shirt and hail a cab home.

Fortunately, traffic isn’t bad, so you’re able to get back approximately 15 minutes later. You frantically run around and clean up a little bit and then run to change from your work clothes into your new shirt and jeans. Right as you finish getting dressed, you hear a knock at the door, signaling Ben’s arrival. When you open it, you see him there with his hands behind his back. He pulls out a lovely bouquet of flowers, and says that he’s still really sorry about your original plans getting canceled. You laugh it off and say that it’s not that big of a deal and he really didn’t have to get you flowers, but you thought they were beautiful. He follows you back inside as you search for a vase and he asks how your half a workday was. You tell him how you were able to get a little bit of shopping done before realizing that some part of you thought it was a good idea to place the vase on a shelf that you couldn’t reach without a stool. Without missing a beat, you see him come beside you and easily pull it down for you. You make a witty remark about the struggles of being short while filling it with water and then, setting the display on the table, ask him what he’s in the mood to order for dinner. The two of you banter back and forth about whether or not you want to try a new Italian place that opened up or go with a Chinese place that Benedict regularly orders from, and ultimately settle on ordering a pizza. He calls it in while you pull out a bottle of wine that you had in your fridge, and he makes a toast “to surviving your first week in London.”

You get so lost in his stories about stunt training and other on-set antics that have occurred throughout his career that, when you hear the knock on your door signaling that your food has arrived, you both jump about 2 feet into the air out of surprise. As you get up to pay the delivery person, Ben tells you to sit back down. “Tonight’s still a date, so I’m paying.” You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts in, “Yes, I’m sure. My treat.” Resigned, you walk over and pull out plates and napkins. He sets the food down and, as the two of you eat, begin to discuss what movie you wanted to watch. The two of you bounce around every movie you can think of, ranging from the original Star Wars to Anchorman, finally settling on Monty Python and the Holy Grail (a common favorite between you two).

He sets up the DVD player while you throw some popcorn in the microwave. When you go to open the bag, a little bit of the melted butter sprays into your face. You make some form of reaction noise, which causes Ben to give you a very odd look back. “The popcorn thought I needed some butter,” you explain as you dampen a paper towel and try to wipe it off. He comes over, and says that you have a drop right near your eye, and asks you to close them so he can get it for you. You follow his directions and, right after wiping the butter off, places a slight kiss on your lips. He pulls away right as you open your eyes in surprise and you break out into a smile. “Got it,” he says, returning the smile and then leaning back down to give you another. You never quite expected your first kiss with you supposed soul mate to be in the middle of your kitchen while holding a bag of microwave popcorn, but, in that moment, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. As much as you hated the saying, it really was magical. The two of you break the kiss, and joke that you could get used to that before walking over and getting the movie started. You find a comfortable place next to his side and his arm around your shoulders. A sense of calm and safety enters you, and you’re disappointed when the film ends and he comments that the people who were outside of his house earlier should be gone. You walk him to the door and, before one final parting kiss, leave him with the same request he gave you last week: text me when you’re home safe.

The last thing you see before you go to bed that night is a picture he took of himself with a shrubbery outside of his house with the simple caption, “Ni.”

Chapter Text

When you walk into work on Monday, you find a stuffed version of the man-eating rabbit sitting on your desk with a neat little bow and a note that says “Thought you might like this. I have an interview this morning, but maybe we can do lunch? ~B.” You, being the witty person you are, take it into the lab and stage a photo of it wearing the spare lab goggles Benedict typically models when he kills time with you, and send it to him, commenting that, “Well, since my usual lab date bailed on me, I’ll guess he’ll do ☺ Haha I love him, and yes, lunch would be lovely! Where/When do you want me to meet you?” A short while later, he tells you to meet him at his trailer at noon, and he’ll have everything ready.

He meets you there with a big smile and pulls you in before any of the paparazzi can get a clear shot of you (there weren’t many around since filming hadn’t begun yet, but he didn’t want you to get thrown into the spotlight). The two of you wine and dine, and, before you realize it, the topic of your relationship comes up. “Look, I don’t want to be forward, but I really, really like you. There’s something between us that I’ve never felt before. I can’t explain it but, quite frankly, I don’t think I want to feel with anyone else. I just wanted to know, can I officially call you my girlfriend, and can we officially be dating?”

As excited as you were to hear those words, you were nervous about your response. Of course you wanted to be his girlfriend. You felt the same way about him. But you knew that, once the two of you came public, you were going to be constantly watched. Your privacy would be greatly reduced, and almost every move you made or outfit you wore would be judged by some woman who had way too much plastic surgery and wouldn’t be happy if she had all of the money in the world. With so many eyes watching you, you knew someone would eventually ask about your wrist, and someone else would notice the constant make-up. Your most private feature would become exposed.

You knew you had to tell him before he found out from someone.

You take in a deep breath. “Wow. I-I’d love that. I feel exactly the same way, but” you hesitate, “but I think I know why. Please, just hear me out about this.” You grab a napkin and wet it with water from a water bottle. Slowly, you wipe your wrist and display the writing to him. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to dictate what happened. I’ve seen these names build relationships, and I’ve seen it destroy them. Nothing I’ve done up to this point has been because of this. I fell in love with the books because they are wonderful, not because you were in a show based on them. I wrote the paper that got me this job and, ultimately, led me to meet you because I still love them. Whenever we were together, it was 100% me. Everything I said, everything I did, everything I felt, was real, not the façade some people put up because they want to be perfect for their soul mate.” Your response is met with silence as he absorbs everything you just said.

“Please, say somethi-“ you manage to get out before he kisses you. You’re sure you have a look of pure confusion on your face, but you go with it. When you (finally) break for air, Benedict looks like he’s on top of the world. He starts laughing and grabs the wet napkin from you before wiping his own wrist off. Sure enough, in identical script, is (y/f/n y/l/n). You break out in laughter, relieving all of the nervous energy brought on by his earlier silence. “Sooo….. we’re official then?” you manage to get out at some point. Another kiss confirms it, and the two of you leave his trailer to go about your jobs for the day.

Chapter Text

That night, the two of you sit down and talk about how you’re going to do this whole “average girlfriend/mega celebrity boyfriend” thing. The first thing the two of you agree on is that you’re not going to rush into things like some couples just because your wrists go together. You’re going to take it like a normal relationship, and let whatever happens happen. He also insists that, at least for now, the two of you keep it as much of a secret as you can. Obviously, you’re going to tell your families: his mom has been nagging him to settle down for a long time, while you’ve been relaying everything that’s happened so far to your mom. But, besides them, he wants you to tell only a few people that you trust about the two of you. He knows that, sooner or later, someone will find out and tell the tabloids, but he wants that to happen as late as possible so that the two of you can enjoy your privacy while you have it. The two of you know that it’s going to be incredibly hard, but you think that it will work.

Of course, having a secret relationship with one of the stars of the show you work for does make your time in the office rather frustrating. As much as you want to, you can’t give him a brief kiss when he walks into the lab with Martin in the morning, you can’t make comments about your plans together when someone else is present. Hell, you can’t even hold his hand and give it a slight squeeze when you’re in a production meeting together and they talk about a new stunt Sherlock is going to do. The first couple of weeks, it’s not a big problem. But, as the two of you get used to the idea that you are, in fact, a couple, it becomes more difficult. You hear the stories Shai tells you about how she ran into Robbert by accident in a record store and how they’re now seriously dating and are “blowing up the internet” with their PDA-filled pictures, and, for the first time, you’re jealous of her and her freedom. You respect Benedict and his request to keep everything quiet, but you can’t help but wish that you fell for someone less famous that you didn’t have to be so secretive about.

One Saturday evening at the beginning of February, while the two of you are leaving a restaurant in a small town outside of London after another lovely dinner date, you bring the topic up. He agrees, saying that “I want to be able to show everyone that I found a wonderful woman, but I know that, once I do, you’re never going to be able to have a normal life again.” You slightly pout, but say that you understand. “However,” he continues, “they’re going to find out about us at work eventually. Maybe we can relax a little there? I trust the guys there. They won’t leak anything since they know what we’re going through and how little privacy the press would give you.” You smile. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot,” you reply before jokingly asking, “I wonder who’ll figure it out first?”

Benedict chuckles. “Probably Mark or Steven. They seem to pick up on these things really quickly. It’s almost like they’ve become more like Sherlock than I have.” “Really? My money’s on Martin. The two of you are constantly together because of filming and everything like that, so he’ll see us together more than anyone,” you rebut. “Are you really willing to put money on that?” he asks. “Yeah, I am. Is this a bet, I sense, Mr. Cumberbatch?” A sly look graces his face before the two of you set the terms of your little competition. Beginning that Monday, the two of you have the entire workweek to see who asks if the two of you are dating first based on how the two of you act around each other. It’s not going to be a dramatic change in behavior, but it’s going to gradually increase over the course of the week from what you define as “slight flirtiness” to “normal couple.” If Martin asks one of you first, Benedict pays for dinner Friday night. If Stephen or Mark asks, you have to pay. You smile mischievously as you comment that you are confident you’ll win.

Monday morning comes around and, sure enough, both Martin and Benedict come to kill time with you in the lab. You hug them both (like you always do), but you hold onto your boyfriend for just a little bit longer. The two of you exchange slight, knowing glances over the course of the morning, which you think Martin picks up on. At the afternoon’s meeting, the two of you sit next to each other and scribble little notes to each other in the margins of the script. Over the remainder of the week, the two of you begin gradually getting closer and more openly affectionate with each other so that, by the time Friday afternoon hits, you’re visibly holding hands when you walk to your last meeting. When you get there, Martin greets you and then asks if he can talk to you about something in private. He pulls you aside and, finally, asks, “So, what’s going on between you and Ben? Are you two together, or what?” You smile, and tell him that, yes, the two of you have been dating for around a month, and you just won a bet as to who would figure it out first. He laughs, congratulates you, and the two of you enter the conference room. You take your (now customary) place next to Benedict, and simply tell him, “I win!” before he glances at Martin, who is nodding in agreement and support. He places a quick kiss on your lips, much to the slight shock of Steven and Mark (who just happened to enter the room at that exact time), before the two writers ask about your relationship and then offer the same congrats as Martin.

Chapter Text

The rest of February and March pass by in a blink of an eye. You begin finalizing the experiments for the first two episodes, and have started tinkering around with those for episode 3. Mark and Steven are incredibly happy with your work so far, and have even mentioned in passing that, if everything keeps going as smoothly, that maybe you could be hired as an official employee and work for Doctor Who in between seasons of Sherlock. Of course, you would love that, but you would also like to finish school and, unfortunately, you’re only able to take one or two classes at a time if you’re working 5 days a week. But you tell them that, if the offer works out, that you definitely think about it.

As wonderful as things have become at work, you’re pretty sure that everything that has progressed between you and Benedict is even better. The two of you have started to become open with each other, and you feel like you could tell him anything and he would listen. You think back to the one evening a few weeks ago when, for some reason, you were feeling incredibly homesick and just needed someone to listen (it also didn’t help that you were especially hormonal that night). You texted him and asked if you could just talk to him (thinking that a simple phone call would work), and shortly after, he showed up at your flat with two pints chocolate ice cream (which was your go-to remedy for hormone issues). The two of you ate as you told him about how you missed everything back home for some reason, and he sat there as an open ear, telling you that everything was going to be ok and that you were constantly surrounded by people who cared about you and wanted you to be happy. He held you as you cried, and you ended up falling asleep that night curled up next to him on your couch.

There was about a week, however, when you didn’t know if the relationship would survive. One of the popular tabloids had gotten their hands on a picture of you and Benedict leaving his trailer after lunch one afternoon. They toted that they had the full scoop on “Benedict’s Mystery Girlfriend,” and how he was “head-over-heels in love with her” and was keeping everything a secret because “he didn’t think his family would approve.” Of course, everything they said was false, but that didn’t stop him from stressing out about getting those photos removed and making sure that your entire relationship was a secret. You tried to calm him down, reminding him that nobody believed them anyway and that everything was going to work out, but, apparently, that made him more stressed and led him to flip and tell you to stay out of all of this. Unfortunately, this discussion morphed into your first real fight as a couple, causing you to storm off in a huff of anger. You hated being angry with him for trying to protect your privacy, but you really thought that he was overreacting to the situation. A few days later, when both of you were calmed down and could talk about everything like normal people, you were able to work things out and ultimately decide that, sooner rather than later, you were going to make your relationship public so you could avoid a fiasco like this happening again (it also didn’t hurt that the tabloid decided to remove the photos and printed a recant of their story).

At around the beginning of April, he receives the official invitation to the year’s Met Ball. You’re thrilled when he tells you, remembering the stories he told of the previous year’s event and how his eyes lit up at the memories, but you’re slightly disappointed since you don’t think you can go because of the whole “secret” part of your secret relationship. However, he brings up the idea of having the ball be your way of announcing to the world that you’re dating and incredibly happy. You think that it’s a brilliant idea, saying that, “if we’re going to come out as a couple, we might as well do it where everyone can see it.” You also mention the idea of having your family fly out to NYC that weekend so they can officially meet him (they’ve all heard the stories you’ve told them, and you don’t know when your next opportunity to be in the US will be). Excited to finally meet your family, he goes online to begin planning all of the details for the trip.

Benedict gets you in touch with a designer who agrees to create a gown for you, even though it’s relatively short notice (she says that other people who are attending have been working on their outfits for months). You know nothing about the fashion world, so you trust her opinion on the interpretation of the theme, the fabric, etc. All you want is a floor-length ball gown that is unique but not over-the-top flashy. She takes your measurements and promises to have the gown waiting for you in New York when you arrive.

When you tell your parents about flying them out so they can meet the infamous Benedict, they’re practically over the moon. They’ve been dying to see in person the man you keep raving about, and you’re excited to introduce everyone. You make reservations at a small restaurant for that Saturday night, and, before you know it, it’s the beginning of May and you’re packing your bags for your first trip back to the US since you began working for the BBC. The hotel Benedict booked is extravagant: your suite looks like it came straight out of a luxury magazine, complete with the bottle of champagne waiting for you on the table. You unpack and then change before going to the much-awaited dinner with your family.

Nervous butterflies fill your stomach as you hail a cab and give the directions to the restaurant. You’re almost confident that Benedict will love your family, but you’re worried that they might not like him or disapprove of the relationship. Silently, you begin going over anything they might not like about him: the large age gap between you two, the complete lack of privacy from the media, the large number of female fans he has, and so on and so on. All of these things you accepted when you agreed to be his girlfriend, but you don’t know how they’ll seem to your parents. You’re fortunate that you have a good relationship with them, but you still want their approval when it comes to things like this. Benedict senses this nervous energy that is radiating off of you and grasps your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

The cab pulls up to the front door, and the two of you exit. You can see your dad’s back through the window, and greet everyone with large hugs. The host leads you all to your table as you introduce everyone. The nerves dissipate as your family welcomes Benedict and, throughout the rest of the evening, seem to give their approval of him to you. Ben and your mom spend most of the evening discussing his gap year teaching English, while he and your dad bond over a love of the outdoors. You smile and wonder why you ever thought this would end badly, especially when, after you and Ben depart back for your hotel room, your mom texts you, saying, “Benedict is such a lovely guy. Marry him now.”

You wake up bright and early the next morning, realizing that today is the much-awaited ball. Surprisingly, you’re not as nervous for this as you were for last night’s dinner. You roll over and slightly jump when you find Benedict there (you forgot for a second that, even though the two of you have never had sex, you fell asleep in the same bed). He stirs, and greets you with a slightly sleepy, “Good morning, beautiful.” You kiss him in response before a knock on your door makes you leave the bed. A courier stands there with a very large garment bag marked with the name of the designer whose dress you’re wearing that night. You quickly glance in and see what you think is the dress of your dreams before signing for it and hanging it in a safe spot. Ben reminds you that people are coming to do your hair and makeup in a couple of hours, so you decide to begin your preparations now.

The stylists come and go and, before you know it, you’re looking at yourself in the full-length mirror before you go and meet your boyfriend, who is getting ready in the adjoining room. The dress itself is a deep red, strapless gown covered with a black lace pattern that matches the heels you’re wearing. It hugs and flatters your upper body before flaring out into a full skirt. Your hair is pulled over to one side of your head, where it cascades over your shoulder in soft waves, while your makeup is soft and natural, highlighting your eyes and lips. A quick spin confirms that this is not a dream, and you pick up the bottom of your dress as you go over to meet your date.

Benedict’s fixing his bow-tie in the mirror before he turns around and sees you. “You clean up nicely,” you quip as you enjoy the man in his white-tie outfit. He’s speechless as you stand there, and eventually holds his hand out so he can spin you. “I was sure you couldn’t be more beautiful than you were this morning. Remind me never to underestimate you again,” he comments, eliciting a smile from you. “Before I forget, I bought you something that I think would look perfect,” he continues before pulling out a black jewelry box. He opens it to reveal a simple, almost black heart-shaped locket that has a few rubies inlaid into the surface. “Oh wow,” you comment before he opens it to reveal a photo of the two of you and a short message: “Always and Forever. ~B” “This is beautiful, Benedict. Thank you. Can you give me a hand putting it on?” you continue. You watch in the mirror as he fastens the chain around your neck, and the heart falls in place on your chest.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect,” he comments before grabbing his top hat and offering you his arm. The two of you leave and finally make your way to the awaiting limo. During the drive, he preps you about what to expect. He says he’ll do a lot of the talking, but, as long as you be yourself, you’ll be fine. The car stops, and the driver opens the door. Benedict steps out first, before helping you out. You’re slightly taken aback by all of the cameras, but he smiles and reassures you that you’ll be fine. The two of you walk along the red carpet and pose for photos, and you’re surprised when at least 20 minutes pass before a reporter finally asks him who he brought along with him tonight. “This is my lovely girlfriend, (y/n),” he replies, catching the attention of the surrounding press. They begin asking the two of you questions about how you met, what it’s like for someone like you to be dating “one of the hottest actors of the century,” etc. You smile and try to answer some of the less private ones before he leads you away to enter the event and meet some of the other guests. He smiles and says that you’re doing wonderfully before introducing you to some of the people he’s friends with. At first, you feel out of place as a scientist among actors, but, the longer you’re there, the more comfortable you become. You even get to meet one of his closest friends, Tom Hiddleston, who has apparently heard so many stories about you that he considers you a friend already.

All in all, the night goes incredibly well. You manage not to trip over anything, and everyone you meet seemed to accept you. The next morning, you find that your dress, although one of the simpler ones of the evening, has made numerous “best dressed” lists on the internet and has even been critiqued on TV by a comedian who is more plastic than human (granted, she slams the dress, but the rest of her cohosts on the show defend it and say that it was elegant and classy). The celebrity gossip sites have even begun running the photos of you and Benedict together with horrible attempts to try to explain your whole relationship. You don’t care, though. You just laugh and touch your new favorite piece of jewelry before going through your work emails.

Chapter Text

It’s a quiet Friday night, and you finally convinced Benedict to watch one of your favorite movies of all time: A Series of Unfortunate Events. Even though you though (and still think) that the books were far superior, you loved remembering how they were the first book series you fell in love with. You and your best friend at the time (who you are still close with) spent countless hours talking about every aspect of them, and waiting for the next book to come out. As the movie comes to a close, you point out one of your favorite quotes. When Violet Baudelaire reads the “letter that never came,” she states that, “what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may, in fact, be the first steps of a journey.” You smile and, when Ben asks you why that quote stands out to you so much, you tell him that you’ve always loved it and, especially recently, it has seemed especially true. “The last time I watched this film, was with my best friend who I’ve known almost all of my life,” you say, shifting into a storyteller mode. “We had been wanting to watch it again for a long time, and we finally got around to it the last day of spring break. Earlier that day, I found out that my paper wasn’t accepted into what I thought was my dream conference here in London, so I was in a slightly bad mood. When the movie ended, I checked my emails on my phone and actually found out that I was in at the conference that ultimately led me here.”

He smiles and places a kiss on your forehead. “And I’m glad it did,” he says before continuing, “Hey I have an idea.” “Shoot.” “Ok, so you know how we’ve been dating for a while now?” Of course you did. “And you know how we spend a lot of time at each other’s places?” Yeah. You know his place as well as your own. “Well, wouldn’t it make more sense for us to get a place together?” He turns around to face you. “I mean, if this is something you’d want to do. I know it’s a big step for us, but I love you and I’m ready to take it this far if you are.”

You’re caught slightly off guard, and ask him to repeat the last part again. “I’m ready for this if-“ “No no, the part right before that.” “I love you? I thought you knew that.” You smile and embrace him. “Yeah, I do, but this is the first time you’ve actually come out and said it. I love you too, Benedict.” The two of you sit there for a little bit, just thinking about your revelations. “So… a house together?” you say, breaking the silence. “I could do that.” He smiles and comments about the hunt starting tomorrow before getting off of the couch. You stop him before he leaves, saying that, “if we’re going to be living together, we might as well get used to spending our entire night together,” and, with a sly grin, lead him towards your bedroom.

The next morning, you lazily make breakfast as he stumbles out of your room, hair slightly tousled from the previous night’s activities. You plate the eggs you were cooking, and connect your laptop to the TV so the real estate website is projected. As you flip through the listings, the reality of the situation sets in a little more. Suddenly, the two of you are quiet. The house displayed is exactly what you wanted: 5 bedrooms, 4 baths, a large backyard (the one thing you’ve begun to miss since you moved into a flat), and it’s in a safe gated community (his request since he wanted privacy from the paparazzi). The price was right in the middle of your range, and you call up the agent in order to walk through it later that day.

You and Benedict drive up to the house, and find it to be exactly like it was online. Your agent, a woman in her early-30s, greets you and gives you the grand tour. Everything is absolutely perfect and, by the end of the tour, the two of you decide that this is the home you want and set up an appointment to go over all of the necessary paperwork. During the drive back to your flat, you’re on cloud nine. You begin to bounce back ideas about what you want to do with each room: he wants the living room to be homey, while you want the kitchen and dining room to be sleek and modern.

The following Wednesday, you both take off of work to meet with the realtor and officially purchase your home. The previous owners, who are present at the meeting, comment about how happy they are that “such a nice, young couple,” was purchasing their home and how they hope that it brings you as much happiness as it did for them. You sign on the dotted line and are officially handed the keys. Since it’s only noon and the two of you have the entire day off, you decide to go furniture shopping and figure out what all you need. All of the shops are relatively empty, so you’re able to easily meet with salesmen who help you pick out everything from beds to bath tubs, and ensure that they’ll be delivered to your home later that day.

With most of the big purchases out of the way, the only logical place to go to next would be the nearby Ikea for all of the “little things” that you need. Remembering your habit of easily misplacing things, Benedict jokingly grabs numerous copies of the map and sticks them in your purse. As you browse the aisles, you make a game of attempting to pronounce the items in their native language (you completely butcher them as, somehow, he makes them sound beautiful). He tries to convince you that, yes, a neon green pixelated deer statue would look wonderful in your living room while you laugh at his sales pitch and agree to let him get it. This continues throughout the store, with each of you finding ridiculous items to pitch to the other before they accompany the things that you actually need in your cart.

Over the course of the next few days, everything is shifted from your flat and his house into your new home. As you unload the last box of items for your dining room Saturday night, you step back and look at the fusion of your two personalities. Small elements of each of you are present, ranging from the Star Trek: Into Darkness and The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug posters that are hanging in the living room, to the pieces of artwork depicting the chemistry of food hanging in your kitchen. Strong arms wrap around you from behind, signaling that your boyfriend has finished unpacking things upstairs and causing you to almost drop the vase that is supposed to go on the dining room table. You set it down in its appropriate place and, almost immediately, he picks you up bridal-style and carries you to your bedroom, where candles are lit and a bottle of champagne is waiting. Benedict pops the cork, declaring a toast “to the beginning of a new chapter, and a new journey.” You drink to that before he suggests that you begin to break in the new bed.

Chapter Text

It was one of those weeks where anything that could go wrong did, in fact, go wrong. Three of the experiments you were working on weren’t reacting correctly, your iPad decided it would refuse to turn on and you had to send it in to be repaired and, to top it off, you started getting emails from your school back home about filling out the paperwork needed to return for the spring semester. As much as you didn’t want to think about it, you did have to remind yourself sometimes that this internship was only until the current series ended and that, after it ends, you have to return to your life as a student back in the United States. You sigh and sink your head into your hands as you sit in front of your laptop at your dining room table. All you wanted was to go to bed and wake up the next morning with everything figured out. But, unfortunately, life didn’t work that way, so you were stuck here trying to plan out what you were going to do come January.

There was such a strong part of you that wanted to stay here with Benedict. You loved him and, like it or not, he (“and his name,” you think, glancing at your uncovered wrist) would be a part of you until you died. But you had an entire life back in the US: you had three semesters left before you could graduate, not to mention all of your family and friends who thought you would only be gone for one year. Your education had always been such an important part of your life, and you promised yourself before you flew out here that you would get your degree.

You hear the door open and close, signaling that Ben was home from set. He walks in and you get up to greet him. You place a quick kiss to his lips before asking about how the end of filming that day was (you were allowed to leave early since you didn’t have to set up anything for the last scene). He responds that it went well before asking you what’s wrong. You take in a deep breath, preparing yourself to tell him about having to return home in a few months. “My school back in the States emailed me today,” you begin, “I have to start all of the paperwork and stuff so I can return for the spring semester.” In that moment, his face dropped and you could tell that the news broke his heart.

“I’m sorry, but you know how much my education means to me. I’m not leaving now, but this whole process still needs started,” you whisper, cradling his face. He brushes it aside. “So you’re just going to walk out at the end of the year? Return to the US and back to school like none of this happened?” he responds, with a sense of hurt and anger present in his voice. “What? I never said any of that! Do you think I want to leave? That I’m not happy and, as soon as all of this is over, I’m going to forget that any of this happened? That WE didn’t happen?” you defensively say, your voice slightly rising. “Well, if you’re not happy, then why are you going?” “Because I have to finish school! You’ve known this entire time that my plan was to finish school after the series ended! I don’t want to go, but this is just how it is! What do you want me to do, drop everything and stay here?!” By this point, your voice has escalated further, and continues to do so as the two of you go back and forth over what’s going to happen at the end of the year. He wants you to stay while you remind him that you’re determined to finish your education. Ultimately, you find yourself screaming at him that this whole process isn’t easy for you either and, when he screams that maybe you should just leave now, you grab you phone, headphones, and keys, tell him, “Maybe I will!” and slam the door shut behind you.

You want to get into your car and drive away, but you know that you are in no state to drive safely, so you decide to try and walk off some of your rage. So that’s what you do: you put in your headphones, turn up the volume on your music, and you walk, the evening’s conversation (if you can call it that) replaying over and over in your head. “He’s known that school has always been important to me, and that I was going to go back for the spring. How could he think that I would flat-out forget about him and the past 7 months? What part of him thinks that this whole thing is easy for me?” you ask yourself.

You don’t know how long it’s been, but the sky is beginning to get dark and you find yourself on a path in a nearby park. You sit down on a bench and pull out your phone to change the song. When you turn on the screen, you find that you’ve accidentally left it on silent, and a plethora of text messages and voicemails are waiting for you. Over the course of the past hour and a half, Ben has sent you everything from “I’m sorry. Please come back.” to “Your car is still here, so I know you’re nearby. Please, I’m really sorry. Come back.” You play the first voicemail: “Hey it’s me. You haven’t replied to any of my text messages. Look, I’m sorry. I overreacted. Please, just come home. I’m worried about you, and I know how much this all means to you. We’ll get through, I promise. Just, (he sighs) please come home. I love you.” The next one is from Tom: “Hey, Benedict wanted me to call and make sure everything was ok. He didn’t tell me what happened between you two, but he sounded really worried. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him like this. You know I’m here for both of you, but please, just let at least one of us know you’re ok.”

You take in everything you’ve just read and heard, and just sit on the bench and cry. Cry to release all of the anger you feel, all of the stress over figuring out what you’re doing with your life, and all of the worry that was at the back of your head about whether or not the two of you were over. Almost ironically, “My Immortal” by Evanescence comes on as you sit there and try to figure out whether or not you’re ready to go back.

Chapter Text

“Hey Tom, it’s (y/n),” you speak into your phone, relieved that you got his voicemail instead of having to answer all of the questions that he would have undoubtedly asked “I’m fine, I’m just out clearing my head for a little. Tell Ben that I’m ok, and I’ll be home soon. Thanks.” As you hang up the call, you stand and prepare yourself for your return home. You walk as you silently comment on what you want to say to Benedict: you are determined to finish your education, and you are also determined to make the relationship work, even if it means that you’re doing it long-distance for a while. The familiar outline of your house is soon visible, and you walk in to find it eerily silent. Tom walks out to greet you with a relieved hug, which you gladly return. You explain the night’s events to him, and he fills in what you don’t know. According to him, Benedict spent the entire night upset and worrying about you, which led to him calling Tom, who promptly came over. He tried to calm him down and tell him that you were a smart woman and that you were somewhere safe, but, by this point, Ben had already had a couple of drinks in him and had become a “blubbering mess.” Not even 10 minutes after Tom got your voicemail, Benedict had passed out on the couch due to a combination of relief, exhaustion, and intoxication.

You quietly sneak into the living room where you find him asleep, exactly as Tom described him. His one arm hangs off of the couch and is still lightly holding his phone, and, even closed, you can tell that his eyes are swollen from crying, causing you to feel a slight pull at your heart. You return to Tom In the entryway and thank him for helping Ben before pulling two blankets out of a nearby closet. As irritated and upset as you are with him right now, you do still love and care about the man, so you drape one blanket over him and curl up with the other in a neighboring armchair (you wanted to be there in case he got sick from all of the alcohol).

When you wake up, it’s to strong arms holding you and a face buried in your side. He mumbles, “I am so, so sorry. I overreacted,” and you wrap your arms around him. “I know, babe. I know. We’ll get through this.” You pause, and continue, “We just need to sit down and figure out what we’re going to do. If it’s meant to work, it’ll work, somehow.”

So that’s what you do for the rest of the day: the two of you talk. Apologies are given for both of your responses last night, and you begin to think of all of your options for the next year. Completely dropping out of school is immediately dismissed, and trying to have a long-distance relationship is reserved as a last resort. Benedict suggests that he comes with you back to school, and you refuse to let him leave behind so many career opportunities just for the sake of your relationship. At some point, the idea of you transferring to a school in London comes up, and you become confused as to why you haven’t thought of it before. You would be able to keep going to school and staying near Benedict, while he wouldn’t have to risk losing any career opportunities that would come up in London. It seems perfect.

Chapter Text

You wrap your jacket tightly around you as the brisk autumn wind surges around you. Even though it was only the beginning of November, you mentally reminded yourself to try to find your winter jacket that evening when you got home. Thankfully, it was the last day of shooting on location today, which meant that tomorrow you could go back to working in your nice, warm lab while they filmed the last few scenes on the indoor set. You take a deep breath and take a long look at your surroundings: Mark and Steven had finally written a script based on The Speckled Band (one of the first Sherlock Holmes stories you ever read and still one of your favorites), so they were currently filming at a beautiful stone estate outsidethe city. It honestly looked exactly like a castle from one of the fairy tales your mom read to you when you were little, right down to the flags flying from the rooftop. You smiled as you walked back into your tent, where you resumed packing up your lab equipment until you were needed on set.

Your phone vibrates about an hour later, saying that the scene they need you for is going to start in about 15 minutes and that they need you to set up the experiment. You grabbed a bag you already prepped with everything you need, and head off into the house to “make your magic.” Once you reached the part they were filming in, you begin setting up everything for the demo. In this scene, they were doing a basic blood type test on a sample found in an air vent (in the original story, they find the poisonous snake here), so you place a prepared sample in the area marked off by the prop coordinator. You also hand him the remainder of the chemicals needed, and go off to remind Benedict of the steps of the experiment. He reassures you that he remembers everything after the dozen of trials you had him run in the lab, and you playfully ruffle his curls as both of you take your places for the scene. Fortunately, they only need to film a few takes of the scene so, as soon as the director yells “cut,” you’re able to begin to pack up and make sure your temporary lab is ready to go back to your more permanent one. Benedict comes up behind you, and slightly startles you as he reminds you of his plans to go out with Martin, Steven and Mark to go over some last-minute details for the remaining scenes. You jokingly remind him not to go running off with any random girls, and he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before heading to his trailer to get out of costume.

Once everything is ready to go, you head back to a quiet house. You walk into your kitchen, which is still well lit from the mid-afternoon sun, and set your bags down at the table. As you walk over to your fridge to grab a drink, you notice a small envelope with your name on it that you’re pretty confident wasn’t there when you left for work that morning. You open it, and pull out a notecard covered in what you recognize as Benedict’s handwriting. “Hi, beautiful,” it reads, “I didn’t think it was fair that I should have a fun Friday night out with the guys while you were here all alone. There’s an outfit hanging on the door to our closet. Be ready to go by 5-someone familiar will be here to pick you up.” Slightly confused, you glance up at the clock: it was a little bit after 4 now, so you had just enough time to take a quick shower before whatever Ben had up his sleeve for tonight. You shoot him a quick text as you ascended the staircase towards your bedroom, sarcastically asking, “So I’m just supposed to go along with whatever you have planned for tonight? This just seems slightly shady… ;) ” As you enter your room, you notice a beautiful, full-length blue dress hanging exactly where Ben said it would. You shower, groom, and, before you know it, it’s 5 o’clock and you hear the doorbell followed by rapid knocking. Picking up the bottom of the dress so it doesn’t drag, you grab the silver heels Benedict chose to accompany the dress as well as your purse and a wrap.

Before you can process the face at the door, you are enveloped in a hug that you immediately place with Shai. You’re absolutely stunned that she is in London, let alone standing on your front porch. “So YOU’RE who Benedict was referring to in the note?” you exclaim. “Of course! He called me up last week and asked if I wanted to fly out and spend the evening with you. How could I refuse?” The two of you hug again before you slip on your shoes and head with her to the awaiting limo (whatever was in store for the two of you, you were getting there in style). During the drive, the two of you catch up on everything that has happened recently, beginning with her engagement to Robbert a few weeks ago and eventually transitioning to your solidified decision to transfer schools to UCL and stay with Benedict. The driver lets you know that you are about 5 minutes away from your mystery destination, which Shai takes as her cue to hand you a box that she was told to give you when “you close enough to your stop that you didn’t have time to overthink what it was.” You laugh, thinking about how much Benedict really knows you,, and open it to find an ornate book. You open the cover and begin to read what it says. “Once Upon A Time, there was a beautiful alchemist. She loved learning everything she could, and, one day, she demonstrated her knowledge to a passing nobleman. He was so impressed with her skills that he offered her a chance to come with him to a far away kingdom to work for him.” You are amazed to find that the accompanying illustration resembles you performing a science experiment in medieval clothing. You think you know what Ben is up to, but, before you can really think about it further, the limo parks, and you and Shai get out to find the two of you standing in front of a very casual restaurant. You glance down at your full-length dress and her cocktail-length black sequined number, and laugh at just how overdressed you are. Once you enter, you find another one of your friends (who you’ve known since you started elementary school) waiting for you at a table. The three of you catch up as you dine and, once all of the plates are cleared, she says that Benedict is covering the tab and that he wanted you to have whatever was in the envelope she was passing you. You open it to find a sheet of paper that appears to belong inside the book Shai gave you in the limo. Sure enough, it slips right into the binding, and you continue to read out loud: “When the alchemist reached the new kingdom, one of the first things she did was venture into the room the nobleman was allowing her to work in. There, she met a jester who thought she was the most beautiful person in the world. Because he wanted to get to know her better, he offered to show her around the kingdom that night.”

The three of you re-board the limo, and you are whisked away to a nearby park. At this point, you’re fairly confident that you know what Benedict is planning, but you’re going to keep playing along with it. Your friends lead you towards a fountain, where you find Martin and his partner, Amanda waiting (both of whom have become your close friends since you arrived at the BBC). After brief introductions, you’re handed yet another envelope, and the story further unfolds: “While on their tour of the kingdom, the jester took the alchemist to one of the highest towers because he thought she would love the view. Once they got to the top, the alchemist revealed that, although she did love the view, she was not comfortable being that high up, and held on to the jester for support. The two stayed there for a while, and enjoyed each other’s company as much as the kingdom in front of them. As he bid farewell to the alchemist that night, the jester thought that there was something special about her.” Martin and Amanda bid you farewell, but direct you further up the path before you notice that, as you were reading, your two friends had disappeared.

You make your way up the path to find Tom waiting for you (since you met him at the Met Ball, the two of you have become close friends as well). He gives you a warm hug as he hands you yet another envelope. A picture of the jester (who strongly resembles Benedict) and the alchemist smiling at each other is accompanied by more text. “One day, the alchemist and jester went to a local fortune teller, who told them that they were prophesized to be soul mates. As time went on, the two became closer and, before they knew it, they had fallen in love with each other.” Yet again, you are directed further up the path, where, to your greatest surprise, you find your parents waiting for you with open arms and an envelope in hand. You can tell that they are both emotional, which solidifies everything you had thought about the evening thus far. They hand you the next envelope, and you read out loud: “One day, the jester realized that he didn’t want to ever live without the alchemist in his life, and he set out on a journey to the alchemist’s home kingdom. There, he met her family, who told the jester about all of the wonderful things the alchemist had told them about him. He told them about how he wanted to do something special for her, and they helped him plan a beautiful party to celebrate their love for each other.” Another hug, and you are directed down a slightly dimmer path.

As the path begins to get darker, you realize that, instead of street lamps, candles along the side are now lighting it. You reach a clearing, where Benedict is standing in a tuxedo with an envelope behind his back. He greets you with a hug and kiss, and, with a sly smile, hands you the envelope, saying that “you probably can guess what happens next.” You slide it in to the remainder of the book, and conclude the story: “One night, the jester took the alchemist into a beautiful garden, and told her of his love. He asked her to spend the rest of her life with him, to which she replied, ‘________’”. You close the book and look up at your boyfriend. “(y/n),” he begins, “if you would have told me a year ago that I would meet someone and become head-over-heels in love with them, I would have called you crazy. But here we are. Not a day goes by that I’m not amazed by how wonderful you are, and you encourage me to be the best person I can be. I don’t think I could ever feel this way about another person, even if their name was on my wrist instead of yours. “ You gasp as he gets down on one knee and pulls out a small black box. “ (y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), I can’t go a day without you, and, to be honest, I don’t think I ever want to. So, would you please make me the happiest man in the world, and will you marry me?” He opens the ring box to reveal a simple diamond ring. Tears well up in your eyes as you grin and say “yes” before leaning down to kiss him. As he stands, he lifts you up, and you notice that both of you are lightly crying. You break the kiss as you look down to your left hand, where he is slipping on your new engagement ring. Another kiss, and he leads you off to a waiting limo.

As you drive, your fiancé hands you a pen, and you write in your response on the last page of the book. The two of you pull up to your destination (which you don’t recognize), and he leads you in to what he reveals to be your engagement party. All of your friends and family who you met earlier in the evening, as well as everyone from back home and Sherlock greet the two of you with applause as the DJ introduces you as the “Soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Benedict Cumberbatch.” The two of you celebrate with everyone you hold close, and the evening becomes as perfect as anyone could have imagined.

Chapter Text

“I am a grown woman. I do adult things like live with my fiancé and pay taxes,” you say in your head as you roll over in bed to face the clock on your nightstand. 4:13 am is displayed in glowing red digits. A sleepy arm wraps around your waist under the blankets. “So why is it that I still feel like an 8 year-old girl waiting for Santa every Christmas?” you continue. Maybe it was because you were excited about what you planned for Benedict as a gift, but you found yourself filled with a giddy energy that only came with the holiday. Unfortunately, this prevented you from falling back asleep easily, so you begin to toss around ideas for the song that you and Ben do your first dance to as you try to drift back to sleep.

After what seems like a short time, you are woken by a deep baritone whispering into your back, “y/n… y/n…. wake up…. It’s Christmas… “ You slowly open your eyes and glance back at the clock. 9:42 am: a much more reasonable time than before. Rolling over, you find yourself face-to-face with Benedict, who is currently smiling like a schoolboy. “Well, Merry Christmas to you, too” you say before he practically pulls you out of bed and down to the Christmas tree set up in your living room. The lights sparkle off of all of the coordinating ornaments adorning the tree, reminding you of the horribly mismatched yet sentimental ones that you put on your tree growing up. You take your place next to Ben, and the two of you begin giving each other the assorted items that you’ve accumulated over the past couple of weeks.

Over the course of the morning, the floor becomes littered with scraps of wrapping paper as you uncover a few pieces of jewelry alongside books and other articles of clothing that he painstakingly picked out and you absolutely love. Ben unwraps your gifts to him (a new laptop bag, some scarves, and a hat you saw him eyeing in a display window earlier in December), and, before he unwraps the last one, you tell him that it’s a placeholder and that he won’t get the actual gift for a few weeks. He opens the box to find a pair of sunglasses and you tell him that you planned a weeklong vacation in Hawaii for later in January since it will be one of the last quiet moments the two of you will have together before your first semester at UCL and the press tour for Sherlock begin. His eyes light up as he pulls you in for a tight embrace and then quickly releases, telling you to close your eyes and that he has one last gift for you.

You do as you are told and, a few minutes later, you hear the approaching light tinkling of metal before a foreign weight lands in your lap. Benedict, slightly laughing, tells you to open your eyes, and you find two very dark and curious eyes staring back at you. “Well, hi there!” you exclaim to the corgi puppy sitting on your lap, enjoying the fact that you are now scratching its head. “Ben, he’s adorable!” He sits back down next to you, and the puppy looks at him expectantly. He joins you in scratching your gift as he chuckles. “Well, since I know I’m going to be away with press things while you’re here with your classes, I thought you would like someone here to keep you company when I can’t. And I know you have a strong weakness for corgis. Isn’t that right?” He says the last statement like he’s talking to one of his friend’s young children, and you both laugh as the bundle of fur licks his face.

You lay your head on Benedict’s shoulder, and he instinctively wraps his arm around you. As the puppy begins to explore the tree and its ornaments, Ben comments that he still needs a name. Without missing a beat, you reply, “Castiel. Cas for short.” You had introduced Ben to Supernatural over the summer, so your reference wasn’t lost on him. The name seemed appropriate for the puppy: he was curious, didn’t quite understand how the world worked, and was, well, just plain adorable. “Yes, Cas is perfect! Come here, Cas!” he says, and, surprisingly, Cas comes bounding out from behind the couch dragging a squeaky toy shaped like a sock monkey. You both crack up at the site of the tiny dog with a disproportionately large toy, and Ben pulls out a new dog bed and a bag he hid containing food dishes, a leash, and an assortment of other toys from where the puppy discovered them.

The rest of the holiday is relatively peaceful. You spend the morning relaxing and watching a movie on Netflix before heading over to his parents’ house for Christmas dinner with his family. He mentions on the way over that this has always been a tradition for him, and that he was really excited for you to meet the rest of his family. Besides his parents, nobody there knows that the two of you are engaged (you’re trying to keep it under wraps until the press tour starts), and, when you enter the party, he announces the news. The women of his family clamor around you as you model the ring and talk about the very few wedding plans you’ve made so far, while Ben and the other men talk about something sports-related and some of the children play with Cas (who is currently on his leash and is eagerly soaking up all of the attention). The evening goes smoothly, with you feeling welcomed into your soon-to-be extended family and having an overall wonderful celebration of the holiday. His parents, Wanda and Timothy, give the two of you an “Our First Christmas” ornament engraved with the year and containing one of the photos from the night he proposed, which you promise to hang on the tree as soon as you get home. You give your final hugs goodbye and, much to the children’s disappointment, head home with Ben and Cas.

When you walk in, you make good on your promise and immediately hang up your new favorite ornament, and smile at how happy the two of you look in the photo: you’re both dancing to probably a more up-beat song, and you have your arms around each other and are visibly in love. If anything summed up everything that happened that night and all of the emotions that you felt, it would be that image. You head upstairs to get ready for bed, and Cas follows closely behind, hoping that you’ll allow him to share the bed with you and Benedict.

Chapter Text

Your Hawaiian vacation comes and goes, leaving you and Benedict with sunburns and memories of the beautiful beach and ocean. Surprisingly, the two of you were met with more privacy than he expected, and, for a week, it felt like you were just a normal, everyday couple instead of a famous actor and his not-so-famous girlfriend. Unfortunately, a few days after you return, Ben has to leave again to begin three weeks of whirlwind press for Sherlock. You wish that either you could go with him or he could stay home as a support until you got into the routine of being a student again, but, unfortunately, the New York City premier of series 4 is the same day as the beginning of the semester and scientists haven’t been able to master teleportation quite yet. So, with great reluctance, you hug him goodbye as he boards the plane with the rest of the cast.

Which leaves you standing in the middle of your kitchen two days later, taking in the silence. Ever since you moved in together, there was always some form of noise, whether it was music softly playing in the background or Benedict running lines in the mirror in preparation for a new project he was considering, or, more recently, the soft metallic chimes of Cas’s dog tags as he ran from room to room with a toy. But, with the corgi sleeping, there’s pure silence. It’s almost unsettling. You plug in your phone and turn on the most recent The Piano Guys album and begin preparing for the start of the semester.

All in all, the first week of classes goes smoothly. You only have trouble finding one lecture hall (which, in your defense, was on the very outer edge of campus), and already think that you will enjoy everything on your schedule, especially your genetics course. The highlights of each day, however, come whenever Ben sends you a photo from wherever the press tour has sent him that day. His most recent message showed him and Martin doing very dramatic superhero-like poses on the top of Rockefeller Plaza, which made you almost burst out laughing during your Modern European History lecture. Fortunately, your professor didn’t notice, and the lecture continued while you replied that he could save you any day.

The only thing during Ben’s travels that you did not expect was the phone call at 1 am on the first Saturday of the tour. As the phone rang at what seemed to be an abnormally loud volume, you groggily answer what you expect to be your fiancé on the other end. Instead, you’re jolted awake by what seems to be a large number of people all screaming “Hi (y/n)!” before Ben comes on saying, “Hi, love. Just wanted to say that we all miss you here in New York. Sorry if I woke you up.” You slightly laugh, “You better be sorry! But I’m glad everything’s going well so far. Call me when you’re done with the premiere and it’s a much more appropriate time here, and give the fans my love.” He promises to call later, gives you his love, and hangs up the phone as you drift back to sleep.

Chapter Text

“Benedict, are you soon ready?” you scream from the bottom of the stairs as you put in an earring. “Come on! We’re going to be late!” The two of you had been invited to a Halloween party being held by one of Ben’s costars from a movie that he had just finished filming and, at this rate, you weren’t going to leave until Christmas. You didn’t know why he was taking so long to get ready, especially considering the fact that your costume was harder to get into than his, and you’ve basically been ready to go for the past 10 minutes.

You sigh, slightly tugging at the laces of your corset in an attempt to loosen their hold on your rib cage. When Benedict initially got the invitation, he immediately came up with the idea of the two of you dressing up as Christine and the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera. Which meant that now, after two movie nights with the film and a series of costume adaptations, you were standing in a shorter version of the dress worn during Think of Me with your hair freshly curled and, for some reason, no masked man whisking you away.

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re actually building the catacombs at this-oh dear God…” you yell to him before you’re cut off by the musical’s iconic organ theme suddenly blaring down the stairs. Cas comes bounding down the stairs in a miniature cape before Ben dramatically exits your room and models his costume at the top of the stairs. His hair is slicked back and he looks like he walked straight out of the theater that houses the show on Broadway. A mischievous glisten enters his eyes as, like every other role you’ve seen him take on, he throws himself into the character and truly becomes the Phantom. You hide your smile as you pretend to hang your head in embarrassment, and it’s not long before you’re lifted off the ground bridal-style into strong arms. A surprised squeak leaves your lips and you wrap your arms around Ben’s neck. “You just had to dress the dog up, didn’t you?” you ask with a slight air of sarcasm. “Of course” he responds, pressing his forehead to yours. Ever since he adopted the dog as your Christmas gift, he’s treated it like the child he never had. You found it incredibly sweet and just a tad sexy. “Well, let’s see if he figures out how to get out of the cape by the time we get back,” you say before your lips meet and he gently places you back on solid ground. “Now, come on. Somebody made us run late, and it surely wasn’t me!”

Chapter Text

Two weeks ago, you graduated UCL with honors and gained your degree in biology. You couldn’t begin to put into words how honored you were to be able to hear your name over the loudspeakers, walk up on that stage, and earn something that took hundreds of hours of hard work. The cheering section comprised of your family, Benedict, and almost all of your coworkers from Sherlock was an added bonus to an already perfect moment.

One week ago, all of your bridesmaids flew in to London, and you officially had your bachelorette party. You had forgotten how much you missed spending time with all of the girls you considered your closest friends. Shai, who had taken on the duty of being your Maid of Honor, planned an evening filled with everything from a pub-crawl to a classic movie night complete with lots of popcorn and candy. All of you traded stories about everyone’s last years at school, new and old romances, and everything in between.

Today, you woke up and reminded yourself that, after almost a year and a half of planning, you were finally marrying the man of your dreams. You felt like you were still asleep and dreaming, but, as you thought back to last night (when you and Ben said good-bye before you left for the hotel suite that you would be using as your prep room for the wedding), you realized that you are really awake and that your dream is actually reality.

Across the room, your phone vibrates, signaling a new text message. When you reach your phone, you see that it is from Ben. “Good morning, almost-Mrs. Cumberbatch. Today’s the day! I love you, and I’ll be counting down the hours until I see you <3 ~B.” You smile and respond, “Don’t go getting cold feet on me, Mr. Cumberbatch! I love you too, and I can’t wait to see you at the ceremony. Remember: 4 o’clock SHARP! XOXO”

You set your phone down and look at yourself in the mirror. “I’m getting married,” you whisper, still in a slight state of disbelief, before you scream, “I’M GETTING MARRIED TODAY!” and laugh out of pure joy. As you open the window to your room, you see that, although a little rain is considered good luck, the sky is a beautiful shade of blue without a cloud in sight. You settle back down on your bed and turn on the TV so you can catch up on the news and have the meteorologist confirm that your day will be filled with nothing but sunshine and clear skies.

A short time later, you hear a knock at your door, followed by slightly muffled giggling. You cautiously open it, only to be tackled into a hug by your entire bridal party. Following close behind is your mom, as well as the hair and makeup stylists and one of the photographers you’ve hired. Everyone hangs their garment bags up in the closet next to your gown, and you hand out the monogrammed dressing gowns you bought everyone as a thank-you for being with you for this special day. You all change and, one by one, begin getting your hair and makeup done. Just like during your bachelorette party, the atmosphere is relaxed, with everyone simply hanging out and having a good time. A few hours before the ceremony is supposed to begin, you have Shai deliver a gift bag over to the room where Benedict and his groomsmen are getting ready. When she returns, you let everyone in on a secret you’ve been keeping: a few weeks ago, you had a few boudoir photos taken, and you were giving them to Ben as a wedding gift. You were happy with how they turned out (artistic and classy without being slutty), and, as you show off some of the final pictures that you have saved on your laptop, Ben texts you. “Oh, come on now! I know you like tradition, but are you SURE I can’t see you before the ceremony? I want to properly thank you for your beautiful gift ;) ~B” You laugh and reply “Nope! You have to wait until tonight to thank me! But I’m glad you enjoy them :3”.

The remaining time passes by in a blur. Before you know it, your bridesmaids are in their red and black dresses (which perfectly matched your color scheme), and they all leave so you and your mom can have a private moment together while you get into your gown. “(y/n), I still can’t believe you’re getting married,” she says, “it feels like just yesterday you came home from school and told me about how you figured out your soul mate was a famous actor and you vowed that you wouldn’t do anything crazy so you could meet him. You’ve grown up so much since then, but you’ll always be my little girl.” You smile, and hug her tightly. “I love you too, mom. Thank you for everything. Will you do me the honors of zipping my gown up?” She smiles, and together you put the gown on. “Oh, (y/n),” she whispers as the two of you look at yourselves in the mirror, “it’s so surreal, standing here.” You smile and nod back, at a complete loss for words. Your mother is standing in a black cocktail-length dress with slight red accents, while you’re wearing the gown you fell in love with the moment you tried it on. The sweetheart neckline is covered with lace that flows beneath the crystal belt and becomes more spread out over the tulle ball gown skirt and slight train, covering the garter that matches your color scheme and the silver heels, while the matching veil is tucked into your softly curled hair.

After a short while, the silence is broken by your mom’s phone ringing, signaling that the limo taking you to the ceremony site has arrived. The two of you walk arm-in-arm downstairs, where all of your bridesmaids are waiting, cheering as you reveal yourself to them for the first time. You all pile into the limo and travel to the park where Benedict proposed (he thought it would be a nice little touch). The limo parks far enough away so nobody sees you before the processional, and your dad and brother open the door for everyone. One by one, your bridesmaids exit and walk over to your wedding planner, who is nearby handing out small bouquets of red roses. When you step out, your dad immediately tears up at the first sight of his baby girl all grown up in her wedding gown. You hug him and try not to tear up as well, and he tells you how proud he is of you. Your brother wishes you good luck and gives you a quick hug before he returns to the rest of the groomsmen so they can get in their places for the ceremony.

The wedding planner hands you a much larger bouquet of roses mixed in with some black accent pieces and everyone lines up for the processional. One by one, the bridesmaids make their way up the aisle, with Shai giving you one last hug before she takes the final place as your maid of honor. Your dad offers his arm, which you take as the string quartet begins playing “Somewhere Only We Know.” The two of you begin taking the walk you’ve been waiting so long for, and, as all of your family and friends rise, Tom, who Benedict chose to be his best man, places his hand on your fiancé’s shoulder, causing him to turn and see you for the first time. Both of you break out in wide smiles, and you see him wipe away an errant tear. You reach the front, and your dad hugs you tightly before doing the same to Ben, whispering something into his ear (probably a comment about keeping you safe and not hurting you).

Benedict takes your hands and you finally hear the words you’ve been waiting for: “Friends, family, we are all brought here today to witness the joining of two people in marriage.” The officiant continues, talking about how he met you two and how perfect you are for each other (you don’t fully hear what he says because you’re more caught up in Ben’s three-piece suit and how you still can’t believe you’re marrying him), before he signals that it’s time for you and Ben to read the vows you wrote for each other. “(y/n),” he begins, “I remember my parents telling me that, someday, I would meet someone who would be your best friend, your lover, and everything you could ever want in a person. I never believed them at the time, but, as soon as I met you, I knew that they were right. Every day I wake up excited because I get to spend it with you. I promise that I will always be there for you. I will always be there to listen to your stories, and I will do whatever you need me to do so that you can live your dreams just like I am living mine right now by marrying you. I love you, and I always will love you.” The crowd applauds before you start your vows. “Benedict, every little girl dreams of finding her Prince Charming, and I still can’t believe that I found mine in you. You push me to be the best I can be, and I know that you will always be my rock. I am yours, and I will always be yours, today, tomorrow, and forever.” Your hands shake as you put the silver bands on each other, and, after what seems like a ridiculously long pause, Ben is finally told to kiss the bride. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses you, still eliciting the same magical feeling as it did when he kissed you for the first time in your flat all that time ago. You separate as he grabs your hand and you are surrounded by applause as the officiant says, “It is my great honor to introduce for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Benedict Cumberbatch!”

The two of you make your way out of the ceremony location and veer off to the side, where you wait for the rest of your bridal party to follow so you can go get some “official” photos taken. Benedict pulls you in for another kiss (this time, much longer), and whispers in your ear, “Well, Mrs. Cumberbatch, how do you feel?” “Absolutely perfect, Mr. Cumberbatch. Now, why don’t we get these photos done so we can go join the party?” you whisper back as you see Shai, Tom, and the rest of the bridal party hurry over to envelop the two of you in a group hug. Together, you venture throughout the park, posing for the obligatory wedding photos as well as a few fun ones (including you and your bridesmaids recreating the iconic Charlie’s Angels pose with your bouquets instead of guns).

As you make your way to the reception (which is set up in a tent in a field on the other side of the park), you are told by your wedding planner to wait and, after the bridal party enters, you are announced once again as “Mr. and Mrs. Benedict Cumberbatch,” and you dance in to Phoenix’s “Entertainment” before the song changes and he pulls you close for your first dance. The music surrounds you, making it seem like it’s only you and your husband in the room as opposed to the large number of guests watching. “And I’d give up forever to touch you, ‘cause I know that you’d feel me somehow. You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be, and I don’t wanna go home right now,” the vocalist begins as you’re spun, causing you to feel like you’re truly a princess who found her prince and her happily ever after. The song picks up speed as it reaches the chorus. “And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand. When everything’s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.” Those words always reminded you of your entire relationship: both of you came in with the mentality that, if you fell in love, you wanted to be in love with the person, not the fact that you had each other’s names on your wrists. You both just wanted to know each other. The song fades away, being replaced again by applause as you share another kiss and make your way to your table for dinner.

The rest of the reception is just what it was intended to be: a celebration. Toasts are made (and, fortunately, aren’t too embarrassing), the cake is cut (and you both end up with some of it on your face thanks to the other), and many songs are danced to until, unexpectedly, the dj calls everyone outside for a surprise. You glance at Benedict, who just slyly smiles and horribly pretends to not know what is going on. Once outside, he stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist as you both find yourself staring at a dark night sky. Suddenly, a beautiful purple firework illuminates everything, and you turn around with a look of pure joy on your face. “You got fireworks?!” you exclaim, causing Ben to nod and you to thank him with a kiss. Knowing that you made the best decision of your life today, the two of you turn back around to admire the remainder of the show as husband and wife.

Chapter Text

It was one of those days that just felt off, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on whatever was causing it. You weren’t supposed to be at work (it was Saturday), you didn’t have any appointments you were missing (everything was scheduled for last month before the wedding), and Cas didn’t need taken outside (he had just come in and was now sleeping on the couch). But still, something felt off, and it bothered you that you couldn’t figure it out. You pulled the calendar off of the wall and scoured the notes you and Ben jotted down for the month in hopes that you missed something. For the majority of the month, you see all of the meetings and interviews that make up yours and Benedict’s lives. It’s then that you notice the faint pencil dot in the upper corner of last Monday.

Puzzled, you flip back to last month. Sure enough, the same dot adorns the Monday right after you returned from your honeymoon. You count forward 1, 2, 3, 4 weeks to last Monday. It was unusual for you to be late a day or two, but it had happened before. Your only concern was that it has never happened to this extent. As you take in this revelation, your mind immediately heads to what you think is the most likely answer as to why you’ve felt off.

You make your way to your master bathroom where, fortunately, you have a pregnancy test stored “just in case.” The five minutes needed for the results to show on the stick go by excruciatingly slow but, after the time finally passed, you look to find that the results are exactly what you expected. “Hey Benedict,” you call, sitting down on your bed, “can you come in here for a second?” A minute later, he walks in, carrying a script for a potential project that he was reading. You hold the stick out to him, “Tell me I’m not going crazy and starting to see things.” His hands start to tremble out of anticipation as he grabs it and reads the tiny screen on the test out loud. “Positive.” His eyes grow wide, and you see him start to tear up. “You’re pregnant?” “I guess so,” you reply, “I guess our home’s going to get another member a little sooner than planned.” Both of you have always wanted to have children, but you both had agreed to not start trying for a baby until a few months after the wedding.

He smiles, and joins you on the bed. “So much for waiting a little, right?” he comments. You chuckle, “Yeah, that worked so well for us. You think we’re ready for this?” He pulls you close, “I have no idea. But I do know that there’s nobody I’d rather do this with than you.” “Remember you said that, Ben, because the next 9 months are going to be filled with hormones, morning sickness, and all sorts of fun stuff for the two of us,” you comment with a hint of sarcasm, “but I’m glad that you’re the one I’m doing this with, too.” A brief moment of silence passes before you say, “We should probably tell the soon-to-be grandparents, shouldn’t we?” and the two of you begin to make some very welcomed phone calls.

Chapter Text

“What about Hermia?”

You glance up from you book and look at Benedict, who is lying next you and browsing the internet. “That sounds like hernia. I’m not having our child’s name remind me of something that painful. Besides, you don’t even know if we’re having a daughter.” You shift yourself closer to his side, and his arm instinctively wraps around you and his hand rests on your now protruding stomach. “What are you even looking at?” He angles his laptop to show you a screen with the names of characters in Shakespearean plays. “Just brainstorming ideas,” he says, rubbing small circles on your stomach with his thumb. “Are you nervous for tomorrow?” he asks.

You smile, thinking about the upcoming appointment. The doctor finally said that the baby’s gender should be visible on the ultrasound, so you and Ben were heading in to the clinic first thing in the morning. “I think I’m more excited than nervous. It’ll be nice to be able to refer to the baby as a ‘he’ or a ‘she’ instead of ‘it.’ What makes you so sure that we’re having a girl, anyway?” He scrolls a little further down the page. “Just a gut feeling? I don’t know; it’s hard to explain. What about Bianca?” The two of you go back and forth, proposing any name that you can think of. Somehow, you manage to agree on a few options for both a daughter and a son, and the two of you drift off to sleep.

When you arrive at the clinic the next morning, you’re immediately shown to an exam room, where you answer the routine questions about your overall health (pretty good), your morning sickness (getting better each day), and everything else baby-related. Finally, the technician wheels over the ultrasound machine, and asks you to roll up your shirt to expose your stomach. You grab Benedict’s hand out of both nervous and excited instinct as she applies the gel on the wand and warns you that it will be a little cold. As she scans over your stomach and points out the semi-recognizable features of your baby, you glance over and see a look of pure amazement pass over your husband’s face. You give his hand a slight squeeze, which he returns right before the technician announces, “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Cumberbatch, it’s a girl.” The two of you are left speechless, and Benedict leans over to kiss the top of your head. “We’re having a girl, Ben,” you whisper, slightly crying from joy. The technician offers to print out a photo of the ultrasound for the two of you and, as she leave to pick up the picture from the printer in the hall, she passes you a towel to wipe the remaining gel off of your stomach. Benedict stands up and kisses the top of your head. “How did you know?” you ask. He smiles, and answers that he just knew. You stand up as the technician returns with the photo, which is proudly displayed on the fridge when the two of you return home.

Chapter Text

You were walking in from a pleasant day out shopping for baby supplies when you heard someone start screaming, “Do they expect everyone to know Swedish?” followed by a stream of curse words. You make your way upstairs towards the nursery where, sure enough, you find Benedict, as well as Tom and Martin, surrounded by what appears to be an unassembled crib. Ben had mentioned before you went out that he was going to try to put it together so that it was up and ready for whenever your daughter decided to make her debut, but you were surprised that he had called in reinforcements. You quietly sit your shopping bags down and pull out your phone to take a quick picture of the men in their state of confusion. Right after getting the shot, Tom glances up and smiles. “Have a productive day?” he asks before resuming his search for a certain piece. “Yeah, I did. I think as soon as the crib’s put together, we’re as prepared as we’re going to be.” You instinctively put your hand on your now incredibly large stomach. Benedict stands, and brings your bags back into the nursery with him. “I’m going to go downstairs and make some tea. Do you three want any?” you ask the three men, who all accept your offer while trying to figure out the instruction manual. Before you go to the kitchen, you glance at Benedict’s copy, and comment, “You do know you’re looking at it upside-down, right? Because I’m 99% sure the crib legs aren’t supposed to be sticking up in the air.” He flips the manual around and, sure enough, a look of realization crosses his face. He reaches up to grab your hand, kiss it, and then says, “And that’s why I married you. Because, somehow, you’re the only one out of us who can understand these damn Ikea manuals.” You chuckle and ruffle his hair and slowly make your way downstairs to the kitchen.

As you wait for the pot of water to boil, you go through the emails that piled up during your shopping excursion and absent-mindedly rub your stomach. A soft kick reminds you that, even though you’re lost in thought, you weren’t alone. “I know, sweetie,” you whisper, “you’ll be here sooner rather than later. Your daddy’s just trying to make sure you have a place to sleep when we come home. He’s so excited to meet you. Well, we both are. But he’s wanted to meet you even longer than I have.” The whistling teapot signals that the men’s tea is ready and, when you bring it up to the nursery, you find a beautiful, white crib standing where an explosion of pieces had been before. You congratulate the men on a job well done, and spend the rest of the day savoring what will likely be one of the last moments in a relatively calm and quiet household.