Sherlock x Reader

Stupid smart people.

The car stopped after an hour, according to your watch. You must have arrived, then. Seeing Jim get out, you did so too and were faced with an ordinary looking bar. Why a bar? Out of all the places to kidnap you to, he chooses a bar? You shook your head. It seemed so stupid. But at the same time, it was perfect. Any remaining customers at this place would be too inhibirited to understand anything this Jim would say to you and even the bartender would be so fed up with everybody else's shit that he wouldn't care about two more strangers' stories. Shit, this was a good kidnap. But then you felt a hand pull your arm and you ended up stumbling before you could regain your balance. You had no choice but to let this guy lead you in. Maybe you could incapacitate him but it wouldn't be good to make a scene right now, especially as the now visible driver looked like an extremely well built guy that could literally tear you in half. And there was the involuntary shiver again.

"Come along, ______. We don't want to make this hard for anyone." How did you not notice the Irish accent before? It was so pronounced as well... You were probably too angry with him for maybe checking you out. Ugh, you couldn't think about that know. You had to find out what he wanted, and why he was spying on you. Both of you walked inside and Jim led you to a secluded corner, gesturing for you to sit down.

"Is there anything I could get you, ______?" He was so... polite? You really couldn't describe him. But something about him made your skin crawl and you felt like running away from him. Back to Sherlock. Changeable, strong-minded Sherlock. Damn, you couldn't stop thinking about him. You had to stop letting him creep into your thoughts. But you had to answer Jimmy first.

"A pillow would be nice, but I'm guessing that would be highly improbable so I'll go with water." You couldn't help being sarcastic. Maybe it wasn't a good idea, but Jim didn't seem to care and he smirked before going up to get you a glass of water. You drummed your fingers against the table. What were your options? Come on, ______, you had to think. You couldn't run away, that much was for sure. This guy's driver/bodyguard would stop you before you even stepped outside. And you didn't feel you could outwit him. He was just so... confident. But here he was again. You straightened up and curled your fingers around the glass of water he'd set down on the table. He sat across from you, hands clasped in front of him, leaning towards you. You tried to lean back as far away from him as you could.

"Oh, ______, don't be like that," he said, obviously noticing. "I want us to be friends."

"Friends don't usually take other friends into dodgy pubs to talk, in the middle of the night-" You were silenced by him holding his hand up. God, what did this randomer want?

"It's certainly an odd meetup, I know. But, I want to ask a favour from you, ______." You shuddered at the sudden pressure- his hand on your arm. "A tiny thing, really."

You waited, willing yourself not to smack his hand away.

"I want- no that sounds more personal. I need you to you spy on Sherlock Hol-"

"What?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You. Spy. On the greatest detective you'd ever known? The idea was preposterous. So much so that you started giggling like a child.

"Well, Jim, you can't possibly be serious about this..." You stopped talking again, at his expression this time. Stony, unsmiling and at the same time, the pressure on your arm increased. You stopped giggling. He seemed so serious about this. Genuinely, and not as if he were playing a bad joke on you. The smile left your face and you tried to get his hand away but he enclosed it between both of his. You didn't like this. Not one bit. His touch was so... strong. And possessive. Not like Sherlock's. Sherlock, though he was ignorant about the solar system, knew how lightly to hold your hand or touch your face to send shivers down your spine. You couldn't spy on him. You couldn't. And yet...

"It's all fairly simple, ______. All you have to do is send me information about him, discrete information of course. I'm even going to pay you for it, I doubt that job at the cafe will last you long..."

"Why do you need me if you're already spying on me?" Why did he? He'd decided to look surprised now.

"Surely you'd have figured it out. I can only get a limited about of information on Sherlock from my spies. But you...," he caressed your face and you turned away from him in disgust, "you can give me the insider's knowledge." You were getting tired of this, of his calm statements and caresses. You were too tired to process this. Yanking your hand away, you got up and started walking out. But Jim still wanted to pester you.

"But why do you need me? Surely you know about John, why not ask him?" You stopped just outside the pub and felt the cold air nip at your uncovered face.

"______, I think you know that John is loyal. Brave, some might say. Stupid, I say. He'd never agree to anything against Sherlock-"

"And what makes you think I would?"

"I'm getting to that. Now, just, stop. Interrupting!" Now Jim shouted and you saw he was trying to keep his temper down. "You and I, ______, we're of the same mould." You looked at him in disbelief but he pressed on. "Brains, independence, but oh so slippery. You don't want to admit to yourself but I know. Have you heard of Harry Potter? Of course you have. Well, if we were sorted into the different houses, I know that we'd both be with the Slytherins. People with great ambition that won't let anything get in their way." He smiled and you waited for him to keep talking but it seemed as though he had finished saying what he wanted to say. You wavered uncertainly but you turned around and started walking again.

"______?" You turned to face him and saw he was holding a phone out.

"Take this. It already has my number in it. You should probably contact me when you've had time to... mull things over." You took it and Jim grabbed your arm again, harder than before. "Oh, and if I don't get an answer in two days, then don't expect a call from your parents anytime soon. I know you just love the attention they give you now. How many times did Mummy call you this past week? 5? You're so naughty ______, not answering any of her calls with anything more than a 'I'm fine, bye'. Does that mean you don't mind if she disappears?"

He trailed off into silence but the look in his eyes promised anger, danger.

And death.

Jim let you go. You walked away from him as quickly as you could. Great, now it started to rain. But you kept walking and you, luckily, managed to hail a taxi and got in quickly, revelling in its warmth. After saying the address, you relaxed into your seat and took out the phone Jim had given you. You turned it over in your hands before coming to a startling realisation.

This was your own phone.