John finally walked through the door of 221B as you were explaining everything to Lestrade.
"We’ve got our guy! If we can follow him you can catch yourself a serial killer.“ You turned to see John.
"John! Finally! Where have you been?” You yelled, running over to him.
"I was at my flat, packing… I’m gonna move in here.“ He explained. "What’s going on?”
"It’s Sherlock. He just with the murderer, but he still has the phone so we can still track it. But the damn thing won’t load while it keeps moving, we’ll have to wait until they get where they’re going.“
"How exactly are we going to do that? What evidence do we have?” Lestrade asked.
"He has her phone. She planted it on her killer and that man has it.“ You shouted.
"There’s nothing we can do legally without a court ordered warrant. And no judge in their right mind would do that with the lack of evidence we have.” Lestrade explained.
"So what? We sit on our ass until we find Sherlock’s dead body?“ You groaned.
"Who says that wouldn’t be a good thing?” Anderson said. You scowled at him.
"We go back to Scotland Yard, we wait. That’s all we can do.“ Lestrade said, getting up and walking through the door. The makeshift ‘drugs squad’ followed behind him.
You turned to John before following everyone out the door. "Follow the tracker when it’s loaded. Find Sherlock, before it’s too late.”
You sat around Scotland Yard, twirling your thumbs and worrying. Nearly an hour had passed and you hadn’t heard from John or Sherlock. You had gone over all the files on the past four murders and English laws on warrants or anything that could help. Just one loophole was all you needed.
And you had found nothing.
You went back to your desk and flipped through your phone. You saw that you had a text from John… but it had been sent 25 minutes ago. How come you hadn’t seen it 25 minutes ago?
Roland-Kerr Further Education College.
You scoffed. Just because you had an address didn’t mean anything. You still couldn’t do anything. English legal process: great. You couldn’t just up and leave, it was your first day! You didn’t want to be fired for some man you just met. Even though he’s the smartest man you’ve ever met. And easy on the eyes… You shook your head. Sherlock wasn’t capable of feelings like that, and you knew it.
Lestrade’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Guys! We’ve got a one eighty-seven up at Roland-Kerr Further Education College. Let’s head out people!”
187? Dead body, homicide. At the exact same place Sherlock was with a serial killer. Your heart dropped. He was dead, and there was nothing you did to stop it. The man with the greatest mind you’ve ever met was dead, just because you didn’t want to lose your job.
You felt a tear run down your face and you quickly whipped it away. You followed Lestrade out to the parking lot and hopped in the passenger seat of his squad car. You drove in silence as you kept a brave face.
"Do you think it’s him?“ You asked Lestrade quietly, he sighed.
"I sure hope not, but yeah. I think it’s Sherlock. I’m sorry.” He said. You turned your head and looked out the window as another silent tear slipped from your face.
You pulled up to the crime scene with lights flashing. You saw a gurney covered in a long white sheet being rolled out of the building. You slapped your hand over your mouth in shock. Everything was becoming so real, the world was spinning. Everything was happening in slow lotion. Lestrade looked apathetically at you.
Your eyes scanned the scene looking for John. The flashing Ambulance lights drew your attention. Your eyes opened wide as you saw him.
"Sherlock!“ You screamed, your body taking over. You felt your legs running at him as fast as possible. He looked up to you with a smile. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed tight, making sure he was real. Surprisingly he squeezed back.
"I thought you were dead.” You pulled back, standing in front of him. He had an orange shock blanket wrapped around him. “All we knew was a 187 happened right where I knew you were.”
"I promised you I’d be okay.“ He said, smiling.
Anderson turned around towards you two with Donovan by his side. "Should we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?” Anderson asked.
Sherlock looked down into your eyes as you let out a light chuckle.
"What?“ He asked.
"Your brother said the same thing.” You explained. Sherlock laughed.
"Anyway, what happened? Tell me everything.“ You asked, eyes wide with curiosity. Thankful Sherlock was alive.
"Well, when I followed him outside he said I could call the cops, but if I did he’d never tell me how it was done. I had to know, I had to understand. Once I was in the car he said he was warned about me, apparently I have a fan.” He said.
"What about the suicides? How’d he manage that?“ You asked.
"Two identical pills. You take one, he takes the other. A complete game of chance.” He explained.
"No one’s that lucky. How did they pick the bad pill four times?“ You asked in awe. Sherlock nodded in agreement, he wasn’t 100% sure either.
"But what’s the point? Why kill four people? For the fun of it?” You asked.
"He had an aneurism. He was a dead man walking. Every life he took money would go to his kids. He had a sponsor.“ Sherlock said.
"And I thought I’d heard it all.” You laughed. “Who was his sponsor? You get a name?” You asked again.
"Moriarty.“ Sherlock said.
Lestrade walked up to the two of you.
"Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me.” Sherlock told him.
"Yeah, it’s for shock.“ Lestrade explained.
"I’m not in shock.” Sherlock whined.
"Yeah, but some of the guys wanted to take photographs.“ Sherlock rolled his eyes as you laughed.
"So, the shooter. No sign?” Sherlock asked. You were confused for a moment, before piecing it together. If Sherlock was still alive then the cabbie had to have been the 187, and someone had to have shot him.
"Cleared off before we got here. But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him, but… we’ve got nothing to go on.“ Lestrade said.
"Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Sherlock said with a smirk.
"The bullet they just dug out of the wall’s from a handgun. A kill shot over that distance, that kind of weapon. That’s a crack shot we’re looking for. But not just a marksman, a fighter. His hands couldn’t have shaken at all, so clearly he’s acclimatised to violence. He didn’t fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You’re looking for a man probably with a history of military service, and nerves of steel…“ Sherlock trailed off as his eyes landed on something behind you.
You turned around to see John standing there, waiting patiently behind the police tape. Your eyes opened wide in realization. John did exactly what you told him, save Sherlock.
"Actually, do you know what? Ignore me.” Sherlock covered.
"Sorry?“ Lestrade asked confused.
"Ignore all of that. It’s just the, er, shock talking.” Sherlock said, turning and walking off.
"Where are you going?“ Lestrade asked.
"I just need to talk about the rent.” Sherlock stumbled.
"I’ve still got questions.“ Lestrade whined.
"What now? I’m in shock, look. I’ve got a blanket.” Sherlock whined back.
"Sherlock!“ Lestrade yelled, crossing his arms.
"And, I just caught you a serial killer. More or less.” He said.
"Okay. We’ll pull you in tomorrow, off you go.“ Sherlock walked off to John and threw his blanket through he window of a squad car.
"Why can’t he just cooperate for once?” Lestrade asked you.
"You know him better than I do.“ You said, shaking your head.
"I’ve known him for five years, and no, I don’t.” He answered.
"Then why do you put up with him?“ You asked honestly.
"Because I’m desperate, that’s why. And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day, if we’re very, very lucky, he might even be a good one. I’ve seen the way he looks at you Y/N.” Lestrade said. You saw his eyes trail off to something beside the two of you. A car pulled up to the crime scene, a nice car.
"Oh God, not now.“ Lestrade said annoyed.
"Mycroft?” You asked.
"You know him?“ Lestrade asked.
"Uh, yeah. Excuse me.” You said walking towards him.
"So, another case cracked. Heard you solves this one before Sherlock. I’m going to assume he didn’t like that.“ Mycroft said. You cracked a smile. You heard two sets of footsteps behind you, must have been John and Sherlock.
"What are you doing here?” Sherlock asked, now standing beside you.
"As ever, I’m concerned about you.“ Mycroft answered.
"Yes, I’ve been hearing about your 'concern’.” Sherlock said rudely, slipping a hand onto the small of your back, his actions shocking you.
"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?“ Mycroft said, raising an eyebrow at Sherlock’s sudden contact with you.
"Oddly enough, no.” Sherlock answered.
"We have more in common than you’d like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish.“ Mycroft states. "People will suffer. And you know how it always upset Mummy.”
"Now, now boys. Play nice.“ You said, ready to step in between them.
"I upset her? Me? It wasn’t me that upset her Mycroft.” Sherlock argued.
"No. No, wait. Mummy? Who’s Mummy?“ John asked confused.
"Their mother John, come on. This is Sherlock’s brother, Mycroft.” You answered. Mycroft looked at you, impressed.
"Your brother?“ John asked Sherlock.
"Of course he’s my brother.” Sherlock answered.
"So he’s not… “ John asked.
"Not what?” Sherlock asked confused.
"I don’t know. Criminal mastermind?“ John said.
"Close enough.” Sherlock said.
"For goodness’ sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government.“ Mycroft stated.
"He is the British government.” Sherlock corrected. “When he’s not too busy being the British secret service or the CIA on a freelance basis. Good evening Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic.” Sherlock said, walking away.
"One more question,“ Mycroft said. Sherlock turned back around. "Y/N, how long have you known?” He asked.
"That you’re brothers? From the moment I saw you.“ You said, and it was the truth. He smiled.
"Interesting, that American woman. She could be the making of my brother, or make him worse than ever. People do crazy things when they’re in love. It’s only a matter of time.” Mycroft told his assistant.
"Either way, we’d better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade three active.“
"Sorry, sir, whose status?” She asked, finally looking up from her Blackberry.
Requested by Anon: Mycroft
x Reader where he meets her for the first time at a crime scene and you’re from
America and used to work for the FBI as a special agent but you don’t anymore
and you were the top forensic scientist and yeah
Your car slowly pulled up to the crime scene which was
already swarming with the red and blue lights and the noisy siren. “Great,
looks like the idiots at Scotland Yard got here first.” You paid the cabbie and
collected your forensic kit before greeting DI Lestrade. “What does it look
“I don’t know that’s why you’re here.”
“You know it would be great to one day show up at the crime
scene and for you to have an idea as to what I’m looking at,” you told him
before walking over to the body.