RK900 x Reader Oneshots

[2] {F} Deduction

This is more of a work based oneshot with a fluffy moment it at the end. Also, you are Sherlock Holmes' little sister, from BBC's Sherlock. Oh and you are a detective, an actual detective unlike Sherlock.

RK900 (Nines) x Holmes!Reader
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(First Person, Reader Point of View.)

Oh, look at him! A walking machine, humanities greatest creation and he is working with me. "Look, it's the freak." Reed spoke.

"Oh, what's your name? George? Whatever it doesn't matter, if anything you are the freak walking in with cat hair all over your clothes, which also is black. Also the way you walk is not good for your health, along with the smoking addiction as well. Red ice or weed?" I asked, looking at him. Hank walked by, hearing my inquiry. "What the actual fuck." Hank muttered. "Oh, hello Hank. Walking in hungover isn't fun, is it?" I asked, smirking to him. I watched Reed storm off as Nines walked towards me. "We have a case, correct?" I asked.

"Yes, Sergeant Holmes." Nines spoke, watching me grab my trench coat. "What is it about, please tell me it's a murder. I hate drug busts." I spoke, shrugging my coat on. "A body was discovered 3 minutes ago, supposed murder. They wanted there best detectives on sight."

"Of course they did, alright come on. We don't have all day." I spoke, walking out of the office.

Le Time Skip

"Good, you finally showed up." An officer spoke, eyeing me. "The body was only discovered 18 minutes ago, officer. Now don't screw up my crime scene!" I shouted, my British accent showing.

I walked in, noticing the writing on the wall. "Miss me?"

I scoffed, moving on to look at the body.

Slight bruising around the neck, 2 stab wounds in the stomach, eyes scooped out. The jacket is wet with golden retriever hair scattered on it. Her ring was dirty, but the earrings were clean. "She was stabbed two times in the stomach, then choked to stop her from screaming out for help. Her eyes were then scooped out, most likely because the killers liked the way they looked. She had only arrived here after our brief rain shower, so only about 20 to 30 minutes ago speaking as her jacket is still wet. She has a golden retriever, and is unhappily married. Her ring is dirty but everything else is clean. Cause of death, blockage of airways. Anything I missed, Nines?"

"The writing on the wall, why would that be there. And killers?"

"The miss me, is irrelevant. Two killers, because the eyes were scooped out while she being choked. Probably her husband and possibly his friend or her son." I spoke, looking at Nines. "How is the writing irrelevant."

"When I was in Britain, my father had an enemy named James Moritaty. He would write miss me on the crimes he had committed himself, this one was placed to throw me off their trail speaking as it was not in his hand writing. Plus James is dead, he had killed himself."

Hank just walked in, seeing me walk around. "Where is her phone?" I asked, looking around for it. "It wasn't found." An officer asked. "The number?"

"379-982-7622." (Made up, don't call it.)

I pulled out my phone and called it, sending Nines one look. Nines modded and started to track the number. There was no ringing within the house, no vibrations. "The killers took it, when they ran. Do you have an IP address?" I asked, taking off my gloves. "Yes, Sergeant."

———

We had tracked down the killers, and we are now interrogating them. That's when my phone rang, making me sigh. "Y/N Holmes speaking, make it quick because I have an interrogation to finish." I spoke, sounding disinterested. "I almost didn't recognize your voice, Y/N. Really picking up on the American accent."

"What is this about Dr. Watson." "It's John, Y/N. And it's about Sherlock." "Let me guess, you are calling me to drop everything I'm doing at the moment to get on a plane, because Sherlock got back onto drugs?" I asked, crossing my arms. "No, Y/N. He is dead, Sherlock killed himself." I went silent, not feeling anything like always. "Thank you for the news, John. Call me if you need anything, also please do eat." I spoke, waiting for his reply. "How did you?" "It's obvious, since you were a former army doctor that you had some form of eating disorder. Before you met Sherlock you were not eating enough, simply because you had no appetite." I spoke, chuckling a bit at his reaction. "I forget your family is very talented at noticing everything. Anyway, I will call if I need anything." John spoke, hanging up the phone.

I dialed Mycroft's number, listening at ring. "How may I help you?" A females voice asked. "Put Mycroft on the line please." I spoke, allowing my British accent free. "Who is this?" "Tell him it is Y/N."

"Hello." Mycroft sounded bored, monotoned as always. "Hello, brother dear. Why did I just get a call from Doctor John Watson saying our idiot of a brother died?" I asked, earning a look from Reed. "Sherlock isn't dead." "Figured, he isn't that stupid. Why did he fake it?" "Ask him yourself." The line went dead. "That bloody motherfucker!" I shouted, losing my cool for the first time in a long time.

"Your stress l-" "I know Nines!" I shouted, throwing my hands up. I felt arms around my waist, scooping me up into his arms. "What are you doing?" I asked, knowing it's Nines because of his frame. "Taking you home, the case is closed. The killers admitted their crimes."

———

I walked into my house, feeling Nines watch me like a hawk. "You are exhausted, go get changed into some comfy clothes then get to bed." I grumbled, feeling babied. I quickly changed into some sweats, walking out of my room only to be dragged back in. "Nines." I said as my back pressed against the welcoming mattress. I felt his arm drape over me, making me nuzzle into his warmth. "What are you doing to me?" I mumbled, curling up next to him. "What am I doing to you?" Nines asked, earning a chuckle from me. "I am feeling emotions, which is highly unusual for a high functioning sociopath." I spoke, drifting to sleep.
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Word Count: 1076