Sherlock Imagines and Preferences 2

The Spying Detective

Thank you so much for 100K on this book!

To celebrate, I wrote this imagine for you all. It's different from what I typically write, but I just had this idea in my head that I thought would make a fun oneshot.

I hope you enjoy it! Have a wonderful weekend, everyone. ♥ 

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John entered his old flat, quickly shutting the door behind him to keep all the warmth inside.

''Right!'' Sherlock called out. ''Now that we're all here, we can get started.''

John shrugged off his coat and looked around the room.

Sherlock was sitting in his chair, hands clasped together underneath his chin. Something was off, however, the blogger noticed. Sherlock's shoulders were tensed and John noticed the odd twitch in his fingers. His lips were pulled into a tight line and his eyes seemed slightly glazed over rather than crystal clear like John was used to seeing in his detective.

John had definitely picked up on some of the detective's deduction skills, and something was clearly wrong. ''Why exactly did you call us here, Sherlock?'' he asked.

''I took the night off for this, so it better be an actual problem and not another speech,'' Greg piped up.

''I can assure you that we are dealing with very important matters tonight, Gregory,'' Mycroft spoke calmly. Though, his tensed posture and nervous fiddling with his umbrella showed that the always composed government official wasn't as calm as he tried to pretend he was.

''Alright then. Spit it out, Sherlock,'' John demanded as he took a seat next to Lestrade.

The detective sighed deeply and gazed off into the crackling fire. ''It has been going on for a while. Though, I did not deem it as much of a problem as I did this morning.''

''You're being real mysterious there, mate,'' the DI said nervously. ''Is it about some dangerous serial killer you've been tracking? A different type of case?''

''Worse,'' Sherlock stated. ''Much worse.''

Mycroft drew in a sharp breath. Through gritted teeth, he said ''(Y/N) is going on a date.''

Sherlock clenched his jaw and curled his trembling fingers into a fist.

''A date?'' John chuckled. ''That is why you called us all here on urgent matters? Because your daughter has a date, Sherlock? She's a teenager! She can go on a date if she likes!''

''This is not a laughing matter, John!'' Sherlock bellowed. ''She is sixteen years old! Under no circumstances am I allowing her to go on a date. And certainly not with a boy! She's too young. End of discussion.''

''I see you have already made up your mind about it then. So what are we doing here?''

''She wouldn't listen to me,'' Sherlock grumbled. ''We got into an argument when she told me this morning. She stormed off, presumably to that dreadful boy's house, to do God knows what to spite me!''

''It's Wednesday afternoon, mate,'' Greg added. ''She probably went to school.''

''I think you're overreacting about this. If she likes this boy, she can go on a date with him. If you forbid her to go, she'll only act out more. Teenagers will do what they want regardless. Might as well make sure they do it as safely as possible.''

''I am not overreacting, John!''

''Doctor Watson has a point, brother mine,'' Mycroft cut in. ''If you forbid her to see him, she will undoubtedly do so behind our backs. If we know that she is seeing him, we can assure her safety.''