What A Funny Thing [Sherlock X Suicidal!Reader]

Classic Rock?

Sherlock spun around with a shocked face. You smirked. "Umm, I don't understand." John said.

"You should put that on a t-shirt," you said teasingly. Sherlock turned back to John trying to hide the excitement on his face. He wanted to know all about you. Comprehension dawned on John's face as Sherlock mouthed the words 'That's the woman from earlier!'. How did she know what coffee I liked? thought Sherlock. You rolled your eyes, finished your coffee, left a few pounds on the table, got up, and walked out back into the cold streets of London. Sherlock peered out the window as you passed and distinctly saw you turn to look at him and wink before you disappeared from his view for the second time tonight.

The disappointment showed clearly on the detective's face. "Who is she?" asked John. "That's a good question Watson.." he mumbled. You and the detective had much more in common than he knew. You turned up your trench coat's collar and fixed your [P/C] scarf's position around your neck. Sherlock was just finishing his coffee and John claimed he wasn't hungry. They left and began heading for their homey old flat located 221B Baker Street.

You took a left and walked into a pawn shop that clearly said CLOSED. It was boarded up with peeling paint and broken windows. You slipped between two of the looser boards. In the room was a crappy box spring "mattress" and a plate with some food dug out of the garbage. You were lucky to get a good coffee these days, much less all the nicotine patches you needed. You pulled up your right sleeve and looked at the three patches currently on you arm. You sighed, this was going to be another all nighter.

Not that you minded, you didn't need much sleep at all. Just a 20 minute nap now and again. It was a very shabby and poorly put together room. You usually pick-pocketed Lestrade to get coffee money, he thinks it's Sherlock, which Sherlock, of course, pick-pockets him too. You sighed and set the papers among the mass of objects you had strewn about the room.

You didn't know what else to do, so you sat down on the side of the box-spring and went into your mind palace digging up everything you had on Sherlock Holmes through the whole night until you saw a pale gray tinge coming into the sky. About then you decided it would be a good time to go for a stroll, it'd clear your head at least. As you stepped out the door the pale gray became a salmon pink. It would soon break out into a flaming mix of shocking reds, heart-stopping oranges, and breathtaking yellows.

As you walked along you turned down an alley where you saw a figure in the shadows... A figure with an umbrella. Mycroft, you thought. You were surprised. "Hello there Mycroft," you said with a dainty wave. Mycroft couldn't read you any more than his brother could. He, however, dismissed that thought. "Hello [Y/N]." he said offhandedly. You sighed. "I don't suppose an esteemed man like yourself just decided to go for a stroll, did you?" comprehension dawned on your features, and back came the smile of a sociopath.

"You've come to warn me about your brother, haven't you. He's quite the character," Mycroft merely opened his mouth, as if to say something, but closed it, deciding he's rather not say it. After a few moments, he spoke, "You already seem intent on helping him. He can be dangerous. You seem to dress like him, not to mention your deductions are-"

"Well, I don't know what my deductions are, but yours are just what you see, you do not observe impress me Mycroft, come on." you smirked. Mycroft faltered and the pressing fact that he couldn't read you came back to him once more, and he fell silent. "There you go, learning now, aren't we?" you said in a playful voice. "You may think you know me," you changed into an icy tone, "but you don't know who you're dealing with, or what I'm capable of. You'll find the papers you've been searching for around here, the same time as now. That would be around.." you glanced at your watch, "8:17 a.m. Got it Mycroft?" he nodded, "Good."

You turned and walked away, putting your hand up in the same small wave you gave Sherlock, "Always a pleasure doing business with the Holmes family. Ta." You decided the other Holmes brother should be paid a visit. He had questions for you, and you loved it. The game was on! You began walking towards the homey flat of Sherlock's at 221B Baker Street.

\^Time Skip^/

You stared at the black door with the gold knocker with matching gold numbers and a letter: 221B. You reached up, grabbed the knocker, and pounded three times before standing and waiting. Moments later a motherly looking lady appeared you smiled and began deducing immediately. Single, used to be married, older, motherly. It took you a while to realize she was looking at you expectantly with a kind smile on her face. "Oh, um," you said, the usual [S/C] skin on your face becoming a light shade of pink as you blush, "Is Sherlock home?"

"Oh, why yes," she said in a happy voice, it then became one of pity, "but I'm sorry to say if you're here for a case he's a little tied up at the moment."

"Oh, no, I'm just here to see him." you said putting on a normal looking smile, "I promise not to distract him Mrs. Hudson." She looked a little taken aback, but recovered quickly. "W-well, he's upstairs." she stuttered. You smiled as a 'Thank you' then said with as much politeness as you could muster, "I'm [Y/N], nice to meet you Mrs. Hudson." Yep, that's it, you were done being so polite today. It was drained out of you.

You walked up the stairs to hear a sweet violin melody. You recognized it instantly as one of your favorite songs: Carry On My Wayward Son. (I was gonna give a choice... But I couldn't resist.. If you want read it like you had a choice.) He had been playing it for a while. You stopped at your spot on the stairs and began singing it under your breath. You thought you had a terrible voice. "Masquerading as a man with a reason, My charade is the event of the season, and if I claim to be a wise man, Well, It surely means that I don't know."

You stopped singing listening to the hauntingly beautiful melody of the violin. Little did you know that Mrs. Hudson had heard you. She has one of the prettiest voices. she thought. You hadn't noticed that you had started singing a little louder and were sitting on the steps when you prepared yourself for the chorus. "Carry on my wayward so-o-o-on, there'll be peace when you are do-one, lay your weary head to re-e-e-est, don't you cry no more!" on the last word you kinda half yelled and the violin stopped abruptly. Sherlock thought you had a beautiful voice too.

You covered your mouth with both your hands and stood up. You turned towards the door of his flat and walked silently towards it where he then started to play Smells Like Teen Spirit. You opened the door to see him playing a violin with his back to the door. You smirked again and said, "I didn't think you'd love Classic Rock as much as me. Surprise, Mister Holmes."