|Sherlock Imagines|

Sherlock: #5

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Warnings: nope

"Good morning Sherlock!" You chirped as Sherlock came out of his room with a yawn.

"Morning." He grumbled back, flopping onto the couch.

"I can't believe you actually slept last night." You said from the kitchen. "Usually you're up all night."

"I needed it. Now I'll be good for a couple more days."

You rolled your eyes as you made him some morning tea. You finished making his plain cup of tea, no milk or sugar, and carefully carried it to the living room

"One of these days, Sherlock, you're going to collapse from lack of food and sleep-whichever comes first." You chided him.

He snorted.

"(Y/N) you worry too much. Just like my mother."

He stood up to take the piping cup you offered him. He took a large gulp of the steaming liquid and sighed.

You watched as he pulled the teacup away from his mouth and narrow his eyes in confusion.

"Is this a new type of tea?"

You shook your head.

He took another sip.

"It tastes like...." His eyes got big and he looked to you.

You innocent look had dropped and was replaced with a smirk as you watched him fumble for words.

"What's wrong Sherlock? Tea taste a little....funky?"

You watched in delight as the detective collapsed, the tea cup shattering as it hit the ground.

His mouth opened and closed as he stared at you from the ground, unable to move or speak.

You reached to your hairline and pulled off your wig, throwing it to the floor.

"I always hated being brunette." You said as you shook out your real hair. (lmao I'm brunette srry if you are too)

"I have to admit, Sherly. You're good at deductions. But not great."

You wiped the makeup off of your face, leaving a completely different bone structure underneath.

"How does it feel to have not seen this coming?" You laughed.

You took off your large jacket and threw it across the room. Underneath you wore all black.

You put a hand on your hip and smiled at the dying man on the floor.

"The innocent, shy, naive girl you knew was fake. Everything was fake. Not one word I said to you was real. How does that feel, Mr. Holmes?" Even your voice was different now. Gone was your soft American accent, a strong British one taking its place.

You pulled out your phone and dialed a number.

"Hey babe. Yeah, he's laying on the ground as we speak. You were right, it was worth the wait." You laughed.

"I'm wrapping it up here.......Yeah I'll meet you there.....Alright, love you too, bye." You hung up and turned your attention back to Sherlock.

"You know, I think you might know my colleague! Jim Moriarty, does that name ring a bell?"

You laughed as his surprised look.

"You weren't the only one to fake your death Sherlock. But this time, the only fake around here was me."

You grabbed Sherlock coat from the couch and slipped it on. You also grabbed one of your hats and slid it onto your head, stuffing all of your dark hair into it. Last of all, you put on a fresh layer of blood red lipstick. You kneeled down beside Sherlock as he let out ragged breaths. You kissed his cheek, leaving your mark on the dying man.

"Goodbye Sherlock. It's been fun, but I'm afraid you've officially lost the game. "

With one last wink you left him there, walking away from the flat.

You encountered John and on the stairs, and you slipped back into your American voice.

"Hi John!"

"Hello (y/n). Is Sherlock home? I need to speak with him."

"Oh yes. I just spoke with him. He's in a mood today John, you know how he gets." You laughed.

John nodded his head and chuckled with you.

"Yes, he's got rather bad mood swings I'm afraid. Especially with Mrs. Hudson away on holiday. You know, you look a bit different today (y/n)."

You smiled, a lie sitting on your tongue.

"I did my makeup differently today! Do you like it?"

"Ah that explains it! It looks lovely. Now if you'll excuse me I must speak with Sherlock."

You rested a hand on John's arm before he could move.

"I wouldn't do that, John. I tried to talk to him and he insisted that he wanted the day to himself. Something about Mycroft bugging him. You know how those two get."

He laughed, nodding.

"Well I'll just give the man the day off then. I've got errands to run anyway. I'll be seeing you later (y/n)?"

You nodded.

"Of course John! Where else would I be?" You smile was sweet enough to make teeth rot.

You followed him outside and parted ways. You watched John until he disappeared into a crowd, and a black car pulled up to the curb in front of you.

As you climbed in, you gave one last fleeting glance up to the window looking into Sherlock's flat, where he lie alone, dying.

You closed the door behind you, and ordered the driver to take you away. You took off your coat and hat, throwing them aside.

Jim was waiting for you, and with Sherlock out of the way, there was nothing stopping the both of you.

You smirked once more as the car pulled away and you left 221B forever.

Sherlock Holmes was dead.