Baker Street - Sherlock x Reader

Anderson...

Sherlock turned to John. You could see that Sherlock was biting his lip nervously.
"John..." Sherlock said, and immediately you caught on.
"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call 'recreational'!" John said, making a few hand movements. You went to tap John's shoulder when Sherlock spoke again,
"John, you probably want to shut up now." He said.
"Yeah, but come on..." John said, looking at Sherlock then at you, and at Sherlock again. After a short pause, it seemed as if something suddenly clicked, "No!" His eyes widened very slightly, and you wouldn't have really notice if you weren't as good at observing as you were.
"Hm?" You asked and John looked towards you,
"Him?" He turned again towards Sherlock, "You!?"
"Shut up!" Sherlock said angrily. He glanced at you quickly, before turning to face Lestrade. He slightly reminded you of an upset child...
"I'm not your sniffer dog." Sherlock stated simply, but yet it broke into your thoughts and you looked up- not realising you had looked away- and at Sherlock.
"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Lestrade said, nodding towards the kitchen. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion,
"Wait, An..." You started, but, as if to interrupt you, the closed doors to the kitchen slid open to reveal more officers searching there. Anderson turned around and raised his hand in a sarcastic greeting. Great, you thought sarcastically, Anderson. You were unsure what to say, but Sherlock, somehow, seemed to take them right out of your mouth,
"Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?" Sherlock sounded quite angry, and you wondered about the past between the two. When you had to talk to Anderson in the past, he never really mentioned him. Maybe because the two despised each other, maybe not.
"Oh, I volunteered." Anderson said venomously, and you let out a slightly frustrated sigh. Sherlock turned away from Anderson, biting his lip angrily.
"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen." Lestrade said. It seemed that the people that Sherlock didn't... get along with, were the same as the people you didn't get along with. You stared at Lestrade to see if he noticed that, and from his quick glance at you and away, he did.
"Are these human eyes?" You heard an annoyingly familiar voice say, and you looked up to see Donovan holding a jar, a slight disgusted look on her face.
"Put those back!" Sherlock shouted at her, and you walked to her and took the jar from her, and she sent a very disgusted look at you briefly, before turning to Sherlock,
"They were in the microwave!" She said, and you walked over to said microwave to put them back in.
"It's an experiment." He replied. You closed the microwave door and another officer bumped into you while walking by, making you know down another one of Sherlock's experiments.
"Hey!" You said angrily, and the officer just shrugged. You attempted to find the dust pan and brush, but you were unsuccessful. Maybe it was another experiment of his. If so, you'd have to ask him for the results...

"Keep looking, guys." Lestrade instructed as you made your way back to Sherlock and John.
"You helped them?" John whispered to you. You shook your head,
"An experiment got knocked over, and there was nothing to clean it up with." He nodded, but still looked slightly uncertain. He may have been wrong about Sherlock not being a... druggie, but he didn't think he was using now. He'd notice the signs, right?

Lestrade stood up and faced Sherlock,
"Or... you could help us properly and I'll stand them down." You turned in sync with John to watch the two. Sherlock paced,
"This is childish." Sherlock said.
"Well, I'm dealing with a child. Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?" He said, and Sherlock glanced at you as if to say he wasn't going to say he wasn't, in fact, on his own, though he could prove something to Lestrade, it would be at the cost of your job. You were one of the only ones who worked with Lestrade that he didn't constantly want to strangle.
"Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Sherlock said, and if you didn't know any better you'd say he sound slightly upset or betrayed. Maybe both.
"It stops being pretend if they find anything." Lestrade said.
"I am clean!" Sherlock said loudly.
"Is your flat? All of it?" Lestrade replied.
"I don't even smoke." Sherlock stated, unbuttoning his left cuff of the shirt he was wearing, and pulled it back to show a nicotine patch on his lower arm. Lestrade looked at Sherlock's arm before saying,
"Neither do I." He pulled the right sleeves of his jacket and shirt to reveal a similar patch on his arm, "So let's work together. We've found Rachel." This grabbed your attention and you stepped forwards,
"Who is she?" You asked, and Sherlock turned around to face you two. Lestrade looked at you,
"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." Lestrade answered. Sherlock frowned,
"Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?" You looked at him, trying to figure that out yourself. Again, an annoyingly familiar- and mostly just annoying- voice interrupted your thoughts, which just annoyed you further,
"Never mind that. We found the case." Anderson said, a small smug smile on his face as he pointed towards the pink suitcase in the living room,
"According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopaths!" You sighed and fixed the sleeve on your top and heard, probably the best response to Anderson,
"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." Sherlock replied, causing you to smirk slightly. He should put that phrase on a t-shirt.

About a minute later, Sherlock spoke again, "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her."
"She's dead." Lestrade said.
"Excellent!" Sherlock replied, slightly excited. You saw that John got startled by that, so you nudged Sherlock,
"Sherlock." You attempted to catch his attention, but he seemed to be ignoring you.
"How, when and why?" Continued Sherlock, "Is there a connection? There has to be."
"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." You winced slightly in sympathy for Jennifer Wilson; it must have been tough for her. A look of confusion spread on Sherlock's face.
"No, that's... that's not right. How... Why would she do that? Why?" Sherlock thought out loud.
"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yep-sociopath; I'm seeing it now." Anderson commented. For a sweet few seconds you could have pretended he had left, but then he has to ruin it. You sighed.
"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt." Sherlock said pointedly and he began to pace once more. John cleared his throat, making almost everyone in the flat turn to him, even if it was only briefly.

"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makesthem take it. Well, maybe he... I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." John explained, sounding slightly nervous under the pressure of almost everyone's gaze. You nodded,
"Yeah..." He smiled slightly to see your approval, but the smirk quickly faded to a frown and a look of concern crossed his face after Sherlock spoke,
"But that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" The whole room went silent. Everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him in slight shock. Sherlock took a moment to register the silence, and slowly turned to face you and John.
"Not good?" Sherlock asked the both of you. You looked at John, signalling him to answer. He was going to move in, he'd need the practise.
"Bit not good, yeah." John replied. Sherlock shook it off, and stepped weirdly close to the two of you. He was closer to you than he was John because you were closer to begins with. After a few seconds of awkward silence, John cleared his throat and you took a step back. You scratched the back of your neck slightly.
"What if you were dying... if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?" You tilted your head slightly, unsure, and decided to let John answer again. You looked towards him again. He nodded slightly, and gulped. It dawned on you asking... or looking at him to answer, may have not been a good idea given the fact he was newly back to London after being shot in war. But it was too late.
""Please, God, let me live."" John said, which intensified your guilt which you hid behind a mask of an expressionless face. You didn't always wear the mask, in fact, you hardly ever did- apart from when you were working. Sherlock interrupted your thoughts, which seemed to be a common occurrence now, by saying exasperated,
"Oh, use your imagination!" You instantly dropped the 'mask' and glared at Sherlock, feeling protective over your new... acquaintance.
"I don't have to." John replied, trying to keep calm. Sherlock finally realised he had said, and had seen the look of pain in John's face, the protective anger in yours. Sherlock paused and blinked a few times, shifting his feet apologetically. You let out an almost-silent breath, most of the anger leaving you, however, you still felt protective of John for some reason. Sherlock continued,
"Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever... Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever." Sherlock made various hand gestures as he spoke. He began to pace again. He would wear down the carpet if he wasn't careful. "She's trying to tell us something."
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A/N
So this took way too long to be uploaded, all written today in between me revising and doing homework... Yeah. There are mistakes as I've not proof-read this yet. Well, I hope this chapter's a good one! What did you think about s4? I personally really liked it! Oh and happy 2017! A bit late but have a good year!
-Saphiredragon64