Sherlock Imagines

The Moran Project (Part II)

They were both pissed off, and neither even thought about the fact that you kissed him. They just knew Sherlock locked lips with you. The one they both saw as their little sister, and would protect with their very lives... Both who hated the detective with such a burning passion that they wouldn't hesitate to turn his skin into leather if he crossed the road at the wrong time, let alone kiss someone they cared so much for. It was time to bring you back home, and Jim planned to do just that...

John walked in on the most inappropriate of times, really. Sherlock on top of you, lips encasing yours in a passionate kiss. Both you and Sherlock were gauging pupil dilation in ration to the speed of their pulse, the kiss had quickly become more of an experiment than anything, but neither of you saw that as an issue.
"Well, this happened..?" John questioned, and suddenly your face was both the same colour as  blood, and hiding your head behind your hair.
"Yes, John, it did. Now, you are just being a nuisance, did you need anything?" John rolled his eyes, putting the groceries in the small kitchenette, and came back with a letter, handing it to the detective who was still on top of you.
"Actually, yes. She got a letter." John was serious all of a sudden, and Sherlock practically leapt off you to retrieve the goldenrod envelope. The detective swiped it from John before you even had the time to react.
"You can't just open her mail, Sherlock!" The hedgehog snatched it back. Finally, you thought, it's time to go home. You enjoyed staying with the pair, but you missed your family. Missed watching Doctor Who with Jim, while Sebastian groaned that Supernatural was SO much better. Missed eventually landing on Criminal Minds because they'd almost killed each other.
"It might be a clue from Moriarty!" Sherlock argued, and you physically cringed at that. What did they think? Jim was the only Moriarty in the world? That his name was a sort of insult? Fools. Suddenly, you wanted to slap Sherlock in his adorable cheek-bones.
"More likely that's the one addressed from Moriarty, himself." He handed Sherlock his envelope, before moving to return yours to you. You gladly took it, while Sherlock examined his. They didn't look anything alike. It was likely Seb handled yours, while Jim handled Sherlock's. You quickly opened it to find a letter from Jim, obvious from the bad attempt at sloppy handwriting to mimic your brother's. It said all these thing S about missing you, but that was just surface crap. Quickly, you put the emergency code into play, getting a message that more closely resembled a plan...
"We need to go." Sherlock quickly pulled on his coat, the long fabric swaying like willow branches over his skinny frame. You followed swiftly behind, pulling on your, still had a bit of your blood on it, fleece jumper. Sherlock glanced in your direction, unable to stop himself from noting the softness in your natural small smile, and the entrancing delicateness of your person. H/c hairs drifted down to frame the masterpiece behind him, and he suddenly flashed back to how soft your lips had been.
"Sherlock!" Snapped out of his daydreaming state, the moment he was out the door, by his army doctor's irritation, Sherlock spun around, you running right into him. His arms caught you before you could fall, and his large hand cradled your head as easily as it would've a small bird. His eyes glazed over you, looking for any signs of damage. He eventually cleared his throat, and you realize you must've been staring.
"Are you, um... Are you alright?" He said with a tad (more like a lot) of awkwardness in his voice. John's jaw broke the concrete as he saw the sight. Sherlock straightened you out, his arms not yet ready to let you go.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine." Sherlock nodded as you spoke your confirmation, the moment still frozen in the early spring's air. Getting over his obvious shock, John spoke once again.
"Where are we going, Sherlock. And are you sure it's a good idea to bring her with us?" John started his compromising efforts, unsure if you'd want to play the game with the devil, himself, or, if you did know Moriarty, if it was a good idea to bring you back. For all they know, he could've kidnapped and held onto you, then shot you when it suited him.
"Moriarty wants to meet at an old warehouse. He's expecting us to bring her, do not worry, John. We won't be just playing into his hand. But if he just comes and takes her, we'll have no defense. Fair?" Sherlock spoke quickly while you rolled your eyes. A taxi pulled in front of you guys, and you immediately recognized the driver. A small smile graced your lips, and he smiled back. Jack.
"Where to, lovelies?" He feigned the ignorant cabbie well, and you knew behind this mask, was the insane genius you knew well. The merciless torturer, who quickly warmed up to you. Sherlock groaned at the nickname, knowing this meant a chatty cabbie (he wasn't wrong) before answering. The rest of the ride to the warehouse that, you soon realized, was the one across the street from where you were shot, was filled with a lot of conversation. It seemed pleasant and normal to the two men, but you knew the hidden bragging about his crimes, and struggled not to laugh along with him, at times. John handed Jack the money as all three of you exited the cab, and entered the warehouse. Jim would be showing up in 5... 4... 3... 2...
"HELLO BOYS!" He greeted, seeming to just twist out of the shadows, "And lovely lady." Cocky bastard. He kept his facade up well, but you could see the happiness in his eyes to see you again.
"What do you want, Moriarty?" Sherlock demanded, pulling you behind him when he felt Jim's state had gone on for far too long. Jim laughed a bit, and you bit your tongue to reserve yours for later.
"I want y/n back, of course!" His exaggerated expression reveled in surprise at the stupidity of the detective. Sherlock glared at the smile that was pulling itself to the criminal's face.
"No." The answer was short, and Jim suddenly looked a bit pissed off. The shadows pulled over his eyes, the dark brown easy to mistake for pure black. John swallowed his fear, with a bit of struggle.
"I don't believe that's your choice to make, Sherly." Jim's tone was grave, and it gave you the shivers. As his eyes scanned over the surroundings, he noticed how scared you must've been, and took a breath to calm himself.
"Why so serious, Sherlock?" He repeated your favorite villain line with the usual odd fluctuating of his voice. It took everything in you not to laugh, at he was relieved when you fracked a smile.
"You're not taking her." Sherlock's voice was set in stone, but he didn't see the small flaw with his plan. Jim raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained.
"Are you attached, Sherly?" He said with an amused tone, "Well, I mean, I already knew that, I do suppose. You must be, especially after that heated kiss!" He seemed to drift into his thoughts, and you blushed as you realized they must've seen that entire spiel. You were definitely getting told off by Sebastian later.
"You sound upset?" John added, trying to piece together everything that was happening here. You almost felt bad for them. Jim held all the cards here, they couldn't even read theirs. Jim hummed a bit, his head tilting in consideration, before bouncing back up.
"Yeah, I suppose that's true, but I dare say Sebby is ready to rip the good detective's head off. What do you think, y/n?" His brow furrowed in pretend thought, and your eyes seemed to roll on their own. You didn't respond, just stood there.
"Now, I think that's enough conversation for now, time to go little birdie." His whimsical voice floated upwards, and you were about to start moving towards him, but you were stopped by Sherlock's cold voice.
"She's not going with you." You didn't know which was worse. Jim's sword-like glare to him, or your own shocked eyes. You felt him stepping even more in front of you, and you could hear how angry Jim was. He soon dropped it, knowing it'd get him nowhere in this instance.
"Why don't we let her decide, hm?" He mused, pretending he was entertained with the threatening way Sherlock had spoken. Now it was John's turn to think this was funny.
"You think she'll go wi-" He was cut short by your quick thank you to him, and a tight Goodbye hug. Sherlock was even more surprised, and that look didn't wear off when you kissed his cheek, Jim growled softly at that one.
"Goodbye, and thank you, again. I do appreciate it." Your skipping-light steps bounded towards Jim, as he welcomed you with a satisfied smile. He held his arms open, waiting for a hug. Sighing softly to yourself, you complied, feeling all the worry for you drain from him.
"I missed you, little birdie." Your head fell onto his broad shoulder. He really had, and you almost felt bad for worrying him that much. The least you could've done was text him once or something, you knew his number. Your arms came around his chest, his muscles slowly relaxing and letting go of this past week's tension.
"Maybe next time you should make sure I don't get shot?" You teased, and his laugh echoed heaving breaths through the warehouse, Fallon in line with the surprise of the blogger and the blogged.
"Hey, that wasn't my fault. But they will see what a mistake it was." His hand rubbed up and down your back, head falling onto yours, as he began whispering.
"Sebastian really is pissed about the Sherlock thing." He refused to admit you kissed the tall angel, especially since said angel was his enemy in the extreme.
"You mean like he was at you?" You pulled away to look at him as he cringed at the memory, looking away in self-disgust. It wasn't that he was disgusted he liked you, never. Now it was just like seeing his sister like that, and it was enough to twist his stomach on its side.
"That was eight years ago, you and Seb need to get over it." He reminded as you both pulled apart. Laughter spilled from every inch of you, nearly sending you to the ground.
"Yeah, after FIVE years!" Now you were on the floor. Jim ran his hand over his face, clearly displeased from this sudden turn.
"Four and a half." He snapped, pulling his phone out and dialing your brother's phone number. Tears ran down your cheeks as your sides begun to hurt.
"Oh, close enough Romeo!" The shy exterior had always dropped around Sebastian and Jim, it wasn't something anyone could explain, it just sort of happened.
"Your brother thinks so." He added with a sly smirk, raising the phone to his ear. You agreed, laughter ceasing. Sebastian picked up on the first ring, and immediately began asking questions. Were you alright, was Sherlock a corpse, that sort of thing.
"Sh-" Every time he tried to speak he got cut off by Sebastian's anger flowing through the receiver. Eventually, he just snapped.
"SHE IS FINE, NOW WOULD YOU LET ME SPEAK?!" You visibly slunk away, and Jim cursed softly. Taking a deep breath, hoping he hadn't messed up too badly. He pulled you back into his chest, speaking apologies, and ending with a kiss to the top of your head.
"She's fine, and no, because be reasonable here. She can't look at a drop of blood without screaming, imagine seeing someone shot." He listened to the sniper's mutterings.
"Yes-Yes, I'm taking her home, now. Of course, yeah- Sebastian, calm down." He threw his head back to tell you it was time to go. He finished on the phone as he walked out, and slipped it back into his pocket.
"I saved a criminal." John seemed almost sickened, thinking about how you'd tricked both him and Sherlock. Jim froze, and you couldn't tell if he was about to laugh or shout.
"Uh, no." He stifled a few chuckles, turning back to the doctor.
"Sister of one? Yes. Living with three? Definitely. But one, herself?" He nearly fell over, "Trust me, we have tried! You do realize-" he was cut off by his own rumbling laughter, your mousy glare doing nothing to shut him up.
"You're calling a librarian who can't stand the look of blood, nor the thought of taking something that isn't hers- even from her own siblings to borrow- A CRIMINAL!" He was howling now, and your jaw clenched as he keeled over. Getting impatient with this, you grabbed his tie, and started dragging him out. He tried to stop you, but his laughing refused to let him.
"Goodbye Sherlock, John. It was a pleasure meeting you! Thank you!" You called as you left, leaving the two men completely astounded.
"What did we just witness?" John asked, his eyes turning to Sherlock, who he sworn had to have been completely heartbroken. Yet, Sherlock seemed fine, even had a small smile playing onto his lips.
"Something new."