Sherlock Preferences

Asking You Out

Sherlock:
You were at the scene of a murder- suicide. Sherlock had just finished his deducing and was chatting with Greg about how he made his deductions. You were barely listening, and was fiddling with your phone, when Sherlock came up to you.

"(Y/L/N), why is it that every time I look your way, you express boredom. You like crime scenes. You like your job. Why are you bored?" Sherlock isn't really asking you this, you realise; he's deducing you.

"You aren't bored. No, it isn't boredom you're expressing, it's impatience. Probably the fact that you've been looking into this case for several days, and you want it to be over. Now that it's over, you can actually get a good night's sleep. So, in order to relax, how about my place, tonight at seven sharp. Don't be late and dress up. My brother will escort you. Questions?" He states, more than asks.

Seeing as you have no questions, Sherlock bids you farewell. John and everyone else drop their jaws.

Mycroft:
You were finished with cleaning for the day. Your bakery was spotless. You were washing cleaning chemicals off of your hands, when the bell to your shop dings. You smile, as it is your favourite costumer, Mycroft Holmes.

He licks his lips, seeing the baked goods on display. "So many options. Which do you recommend for today?" He asks you as the corners of your mouth lift upwards.

You pick out a simple coconut cake and place it on the counter. "This one is the cake of the day. It is the best selling as well," you say. Mycroft nods, considering the option.

"Very well, I should like two slices. If, of course, that is possible," he says, smiling. You nod. "Yes, of course. Anything for our favourite costumer," you say, cutting the cake.

You don't notice Mycroft watching you with a peaceful and dazed look. "Will that be all?" You ask. Mycroft feins a thinking pose.

"Actually, how would you like dinner tomorrow night at Giovanni's. Say, seven?" He asks. Your smile falters, before your eyes light up.

"That would be lovely, Mr. Holmes." "Wonderful. I'll pick you up," he says, paying for the cake. "Have a wonderful afternoon, Mycroft," you say. "You as well," he says, before walking out the door, leaving the bell jingling.

Moriarty:
You were in your flat, which is shared with your sister, and was hiding from the federal agents that were on your tail twelve minutes ago. Just as you go to sit on the couch, the handle on the door starts jiggling. Then, as if by magic, the door comes open.

There, standing in the doorway, was James Moriarty with your spare key in hand. "I followed you," he says simply. You don't acknowledge it. "I like what you did; stabbing that guy. Now you're in hiding. That's cool," he says, just standing there with his hands in his trouser pockets.

"That's lovely. Hey, why don't you close the door. Somebody might see me in here," you say, plopping onto the couch.

Jim closes the door, then sits by your side on the couch. "Wanna form an alliance?" Jim asks, turned towards you. You don't spare a glance in his direction as you flip through channels on the telly. "Why?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"Power in numbers. We could be a force to reckon with. Together, we could take out Parliament and the monarchy. We could become the monarchs ourselves," he states, convincing you fully that you should be his ally.

You decide to drag it out longer. "And?" You ask. He smiles. "Honey, you should see me in a crown," he says, smirking.

You nod. "Fine. What else did you want to ask?" Jim swallows, then looks you in the eye. His eyes fill with sincerity and adoration. "Want to go to dinner with me?" He asks.

You fein a thinking pose to prolong his edginess. You tap your chin, still pretending to think. "Fine. But you better make it worth my time," you say, quirking a small smile.

Jim claps his hands together and says, "yes!"

John:
You had been home from the hospital for a week. Your bruises, scrapes, and scratches were either nearly or completely healed by now. You'd kept yourself cooped up in your flat the whole week, only because you were scared that you might get mugged again.

When the week neared its end, you finally decided to go outside. You put on a coat, a scarf, and a hat, then headed out; ensuring that your keys were in hand and your door was locked.

You were walking downtown, looking in shop windows when you spotted a familiar mop of sandy hair. At first, you couldn't place who it was; after remembering John Watson from the hospital, you made a move towards him.

You began to peer into a shop window that caught your eye, forgetting your mission to talk with John, when a hand came down onto your shoulder.

You jump, a bit startled and still flinchy from the mugging, but turn around to see John Watson chuckling slightly. "I forgot, I'm sorry. But, your reaction got me," he says, still chuckling a bit. You smile a bit, and pat his shoulder.

"That's okay. Anyways, it's nice to see you again," you say. John nods, still smiling. "Yeah, you too. I didn't think we'd see each other much. You know, after the, you know," he says, scratching behind his ear. You nod.

"Well, that's quite alright. Truth be told, I didn't think I'd ever see you again," you say. John nods in agreement. "Yeah. So, anyways would you... uh, like to... have dinner sometime?" John asks. "Of course," you say. "Great. How about seven on Thursday, sound good?" He asks. You nod.

"Great! I'll pick you up. See you then," he says. "Yeah, same," you say, waving.

Greg:
Sherlock dragged you to yet another case to play matchmaker with you and Greg. You were following Sherlock closely behind, when you spotted Greg talking to one of the Sergeants. You casually follow as Sherlock makes his way over there.

"Gavin, where's the body?" Sherlock asks. You snort, knowing that Sherlock's attempt to get Greg to notice you is going to be futile if this is how he's going to do it. You sigh, and begin to play with your hair. "Who's she? Why's she here?" The Sergeant asks. You snort.

"I'm (Y/N) Holmes. Pleased to meet you, Sally," you say, being as sarcastic as you possibly can. She gawks at you. "You're with freak?" She asks. You snort.

"Common mistake. (Y/N) is my sister," Sherlock says. Greg looks back at you, smiling widely. "Hey there. Did Sherlock drag you to another case?" Greg asks. You nod. "Yep. Apparently, he's playing matchmaker," you say, snorting. Greg busts out laughing.

"Sherlock Holmes is playing matchmaker? Well, that's a first. Mark that on the 'things Sherlock surprisingly has done that are normal' list."

You bust out laughing. "I definitely will! Anyways, Sherlock's also wanting me to do something that 'requires me to use more brain power'. He suggests that I see how he does it," you say. Greg nods.

"So, I have a question," Greg says, rubbing the back of his neck. You nod, encouraging him to continue. "Would you like to go on a date with me? I know a place that we could go to. You wouldn't have to dress up or anything like that," Greg explains.

You nod. "Sure. Although, I will have to notify Sherlock of when and where. Mycroft'll probably crash it about halfway through," you say. Greg nods and smiles. "Great. I'll pick you up tomorrow at six. Remember that it's casual," he says. You nod, creating a list on your mental calendar.

"Great! I'll see you then," he says. You nod. "See you then," you respond as Sherlock pulls you away.

"Tell me all," Sherlock says. You sigh. "Deduce it, detective," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You give him a field day trying to figure it out.