Sherlock One shots and Imagines

Until we meet again - Part 2 - Sherlock x Reader

A second part of this imagine, as requested by NormandyWright. I think that now I have written this second part, that this imagine is going to end up a little longer than I had planned. 😁 But I hope you all enjoy.

"You bastard!" (Y/n) exclaimed, as she marched up to James and slapped him sharply across the face.

"As always, (Y/n), your presence is such a delight." James replied, as he rubbed his stinging cheek. (Y/n) glaring at Seb as he stepped forward.

"And you can stay back. My brother is big enough to look after himself. He doesn't need his guard dog all the time. Why don't you two just get a room and have done with it?" (Y/n) growled, as she glared at the ex-soldier.

"It is quite alright, Sebastian. Now, why am I a bastard this time, (Y/n)? You managed to meet Sherlock, didn't you?" James enquired. Moving back in his seat slightly as his sister banged both her fists on his desk. James was used to his sister's ever so slightly fiery temper. But as he looked at her, her eyes burning bright with anger. Even he couldn't help but think that he might be in real trouble this time.

"Oh, yes. I met him. And I was also on the verge of getting locked up by that idiot, Lestrade, because you got me mixed up in some shit between that moron Connor and the psycho, Henderson. But I met him." (Y/n) growled again. Doing her best not to slap one of James' oh so familiar little smiles from his face, as he looked at her.

"Please, (Y/n). Do you think that I would ever let anything actually happen to you? And we killed two birds with one stone. Henderson disposed of that troublesome Connor, and you got to meet my dear friend, Sherlock. And not even Lestrade and the inept Scotland Yard could miss out on the fact that there was no evidence, or forensics that could be used against you. Now, tell me. What did you think of Sherlock?" James explained as he leant back in his chair.

"Firstly, you wouldn't let anything happen to me, because I am the only one on god's green earth, that the feared James Moriarty is actually concerned about. Secondly, you ever put me in a situation like that ever again, and I will kill you myself. And finally............" (Y/n) replied, as she dropped herself into the chair on the other side of her brother's desk.

"And finally, I think that dear old Sherlock, is very interesting. And oh, so very handsome." (Y/n) chuckled, as she remembered back to looking at Sherlock over the table. The dilation in his ever so exquisite eyes, making her mind wander.

"So? Do you think that you can do it? Do you think that you can make Sherlock fall?" James asked. Furrowing his brows as his sister began to laugh.

"Of course, James. That is why I am here, isn't it? Just because you have failed to bring him to his knees, doesn't mean that I will. With a little nudge in the right direction. Even the great Sherlock Holmes will fall. And I intend to make him fall hard. It will be quite an achievement to break him down. To watch that English stiff upper lip exterior, crumble. To crack that cold, cool, calm shell of his. But when I do, you won't have to worry about him again." (Y/n) informed him. James hoping that his sister could be as effective as she believed she would be.

                                                         >>---------------------------------<<

"But I do not wish to go. I have more important things to do, than concern myself with one of Mycroft's idiotic functions." Sherlock huffed, as he completely ignored John's pleas for him to get ready for the evening.

"Oh please. What do you have better to do? You haven't had a case in weeks. And you know that Mycroft will do nothing but complain if we don't go. Then you will get in one of your moods. And I for one, am not going to put up with that." John replied. Almost pulling the consulting detective away from the window, out of which, Sherlock stared. The detective rolling his eyes as he finally capitulated and made his way to change into his tuxedo.

How rude was John, trying to insinuate that he didn't have better things to do? He always had better things to do. There was a decaying human finger that needed his attention. And then there was......well, then there was (Y/n) Moriarty. The woman that had been taking up most of his precious time since they had met. As much as he had tried to forget about her. To focus on anything else. The images of her eyes and beautiful smile, were preventing it. Sherlock finding that he had become as obsessed with her, as he was with her brother. But for very different reasons. He had done his best to try and find out as much as he could about her. But frustratingly, he had come up empty handed. The younger Moriarty seeming to be nothing more than a beautiful dream. A ghost. But she was real. He knew that she was real. An exquisite enigma. A puzzle that Sherlock had to solve. So now, getting to the bottom of the (Y/n) riddle, had become just as important to him as bringing down her brother was. And Sherlock wasn't going to stop until he had done both.

"Are you nearly ready in there? If you don't hurry up, we will be late." John groaned. Sherlock rolling his eyes as he made sure that his bowtie was straight.

"Oh, and wouldn't that be a terrible shame? Late to something that I do not wish to attend in the first place." Sherlock replied, as he appeared from his room. A look of relief on John's face as he threw Sherlock his coat.

"Stop complaining. You never know. If you're very lucky, someone might get murdered." John retorted, as he pushed Sherlock out of the door to their flat. Determined not to give the detective a further chance to change his mind.

                                                             >>-------------------------------<<

To say that Sherlock was bored, would be the understatement of the century. And he and John had barely got through the doors of the grand ballroom. He had no idea why Mycroft would insist that he and John be at this ridiculous thing, other than the fact that his older brother knew that he would hate it. But here he was. And here he wished he wasn't.

Everyone in the room was so easy to deduce. An affair with their secretary, here. A little manipulation of their expenses, there. A politician that desperately needed his next fix, in one corner. And another that was worried that at any moment, people would realise that he was secretly gay. It was all so predictable. All so.....well, all so boring.

"Well, hello again, Mister Holmes. Imagine meeting you here. And thankfully, this time, it is under much more salubrious circumstances." A melodies voice said. Sherlock and John turning to see a smiling (Y/n) Moriarty looking back at them. The bright scarlet silken gown that she wore, which clung to her every dip and curve, doing wonderfully terrible things to Sherlock's insides. And despite himself, his heart had begun to race.

"My. And don't you look so handsome?" (Y/n) added, as she stepped closer. Reaching up her hands and straightening Sherlock's tie.

"And you must be Doctor John Watson? I have heard so much about you. It is unfortunate that we did not get to meet last time. But meeting someone for the first time in a police station, doesn't really make the best impression. Does it? But now, in such beautiful surroundings, it is nice to meet you, Doctor Watson. I'm (Y/n) Moriarty." (Y/n) introduced herself. John looking shocked, before taking (Y/n)'s hand and shaking it. John not failing to notice that Sherlock was to yet take his eyes from the younger Moriarty.

"Its.....its very nice to meet you. Er.......what......I mean, er .......why are you here?" John asked, despite knowing that no matter how he said it, the question was going to sound rude.

"Well, you know what they say, Doctor. Its not what you know, its who you know, that gets you places in this world. And I, well, I just happen to be friends with the Earl of Suffolk. And as he was unable to attend this little get together, he asked me if I would be kind enough to be his representative. So, now that you know why I am here. I hope you won't mind if I steal Sherlock away from you. I would really like to dance." (Y/n) told him, as she took Sherlock's hand. John not knowing what to think as he watched the younger Moriarty lead his friend by the hand. Sherlock following behind her, like an obedient puppy.