Chapter Seventeen: Like the Dream

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AN: Hi guys! Clara is me, the author!Normally I'd use my nickname in a fic but it doesn't quite fit with this one, so just a friendly reminder that I use they/them pronouns even if the name is feminine and to respect that or you will be muted or blocked

Bruce excused himself from the tour before you they could show any other rooms to you, wanting to go into the lab to study what you had made earlier, still muttering about how strange it was that he hadn't thought of it. 

"Alright, this is the main common and entertainment room besides the home theater." Tony motioned as he opened the door to a room with ceilings so high you could have sworn you were in a mansion and not a tower. "Most of the team hangs out around here, the room we saw earlier is mostly for meetings or if people want to just be by themselves or with a few others."

Sherlock and you entered one of the large common rooms of the tower, filled with couches, a large television, shelves full of novels and board games, it was everything you could imagine. Your stay here was definitely looking brighter with every second, sure London would be missed but a vacation outside the country was well deserved.

Tony showed you around the room, the tour ending in front of a couch in the room in front of the large tv, airing an episode of Good Omens. "And that, that is a Clara," Tony motioned to the passed out figure on the couch, their ear length curly red hair spread out all over their face as they snored with drool coming out of the side of their mouth. 

Nat took a paperback book from one of the shelves, throwing it at the sleeping figure, with a smirk on her face and deadly precision, you hoped to never get on her bad side.

"Who the fuck is it?" They yelled, jolting up into a fighting position, eyes half hooded. Their Our Flag Means Death shirt wrinkled up and their blue Doctor Who sweatpants, pushed up to their knees.

Tony went up and patted their shoulder, the strange person calming down, "New people."

"Who?" Clara turned their head, leaning past Tony to look at you and Sherlock. They studied you with a funny expression, waving at you before turning their attention to Sherlock.

Sherlock stared back, his lack of social cues seemingly coming into play. You looked back and forth between the pair, Natasha and Tony doing the same, confused at what was going on.

Sherlock was unusually silent, his eyes filled with adoration, no that couldn't be right, but wait it was. You looked closer, pupils dilated, reaching down and grabbing his hand you took his pulse, much faster than normal. Was Sherlock Holmes, the sociopath, showing signs of sentiment? (This is a fanfic people so don't come for me saying he's OOC, I'm the author I can make myself bag Sherlock if I want too)

"Clara," They held their hand out for Sherlock to shake, Sherlock just standing still, not accepting it, still staring at them. 

Clara retracted their hand, eyeing the detective up and down, letting out a whistle looking at the readers, "Fuck, he's hotter in real life."

"Sorry about that," Sherlock snapped out of his trance, shooting them a dashing smile. "The name is Sherlock Holmes."

Clara turned with disbelief all over their face towards the readers, "Gods kill me now." Before they turned back, making an offer to Sherlock, "Want some tea Mr. Holmes?"

Sherlock nodded, following behind them as they made their way to what you presumed was the kitchen.

You looked at Tony, knowing what he was about to say, shooting it out before him, "A hundred says they fuck."

No Strings Attached: Doctor Strange x GN Reader (Marvel and Sherlock Crossover)Where stories live. Discover now