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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

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Unbelievable Chapter V (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter VI

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3633 words

Chapter V

We were followed out to a taxi, and soon were on our way back home.

‘Okay, the smoking. How did you know?’ John asked.

Sherlock smiled and shook his head. Then he answered, ‘The evidence was right under your nose, John. As ever, you see but do not observe.’

‘Observe what?’ he asked. I nudged Sherlock as I replied, ‘the ashtray John! The damn ashtray.’ And just then sherlock pulled out an ashtray from his coat. ‘Y/N is as always, right.’ John and I both laughed, and Sherlock tossed the ashtray into the air, caught it, and tucked it back into his coat, chuckling.

‘So, what’s the plan?’ I asked.

‘You, young lady, are going home.’ John said.

‘Whaaat I want to go!’

Sherlock looked at John, confused.

‘Are you serious Sherlock? She’s obviously super hangover. This may get dangerous, and she can’t even stand up without falling over.’

‘You fell over?’

‘No, I didn’t. If I did, surely you would have seen it, no?

‘Hm.’

‘Please Sherlock. I really don’t feel like being home alone right now.’ I pouted.

‘You’re acting like a child Y/N,’ John said.

‘Just living up to your expectations about me. Please, let me come with you.’

‘Okay.’ Sherlock said.

‘What!? Sherlock, no. She needs to get home and sleep.’ John protested.

‘John. Y/N is not a child, but a grown woman, who can make her own choices. Besides, she may be helpful.’

‘Thank you, Sherlock!’ I said and hugged him as well as I could while still keeping my seatbelt on. He smiled.

John sighed. ‘So, what’s the plan then?’

‘We know her address,’ Sherlock replied.

‘What, we just ring her doorbell?’

‘Exactly. Just here, please.’ He says to the driver. As we walked out of the car, or stumbled in my case, John asked, ‘are we here?’

Sherlock replied, ‘just two streets away, but this’ll do. Punch me in the face.’ He pointed at his left cheek.

‘Punch you?’

‘Yes. Punch me, in the face.’ He gestured to his left cheek again. ‘Didn’t you hear me?’

‘I always hear “punch me in the face” when you’re speaking, but it’s usually sub-text.’

I giggled. ’Oh, for God’s sakes.’ Sherlock said. ‘And don’t you get cocky kid, I can still send you home.’ That shut me up. Sherlock then proceeded to punch John in the face. As John grunted in pain and reeled from the blow, Sherlock shook out his hand and then blew out a breath, bracing himself. John straightened up and immediately punched Sherlock. However, despite his anger – and his left-handedness – he did so right-handed and therefore struck him on the left cheek just as Sherlock had indicated.

‘Ow!’ John said, as Sherlock fell to the ground. He looked at his hand, and painfully flexed his hand to examine his knuckles. Sherlock stood up and held his fingers to the newly formed cut on his cheek.

‘Thank you. That was – that was ...’ Before Sherlock could finish his sentence, John punched him again, but this time in the stomach, sending Sherlock crashing to the ground yet again.

‘Wow, you’re quite strong John!’ I spoke. ‘But what is the point of this?’

‘Of course, I’m strong Y/N. I was a soldier. I killed people.’

‘You were a doctor,’ Sherlock butted in.

‘I had bad days!’ John shouted. Istg these boys.

‘Now to the point. I have been attacked in the streets and I come to Miss Adler’s home looking for help. Is that clear?’

‘… Sherlock. Irene Adler definitely knows who you are. I mean everyone does. And she’s been in multiple cases, it would be weird if she hadn’t done just a tad of research.’ I said.

‘Nonsense, it will be fine. Besides, it is only a plan to get inside.’

‘Why not just tell the truth?’ I asked, but Sherlock was already walking away.

As we came to the house, sherlock went over to the intercom and buzzed it. Soon, we heard a young woman say ‘hello?’

Sherlock stared into the camera wide-eyed and flustered. He spoke in an anxious, tearful, posh voice and kept looking around behind him as he spoke. ‘Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I’ve just been attacked, um, and, um, I think they ... they took my wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?’

The woman on the intercom responded, ‘I can phone the police if you want.’

‘Thank you, thank you! Could you, please?’ He took a few steps backwards. ‘Oh, would you ... would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so much.’ He held his handkerchief up to his cheek and tried his best to look hurt. It was pathetic. The intercom lady buzzed him in, and John and I followed.

‘Thank you.’ Sherlock said, still in character. He quickly looked around to room and said ‘ooh!’.

‘I – I saw it all happen. It’s okay, I’m a doctor,’ John said as he closed the door. The room was very elegant, with a big off-white chandelier hanging from the roof. Walking a bit more in, I could see a brown staircase leading up to another floor.

‘And what about you?’ the intercom lady asked looking at me.

‘I... uh… I just…’ Shit. What was I supposed to say!?

‘She’s my girlfriend,’ Sherlock interrupted. What. I glared at him, and he winked. Was this revenge from the party? Such a child.

‘Yes, I am.’ I said with a smile.

‘But you didn’t get attacked?’ the intercom lady asked. Oh. Right.

‘I am very strong. Besides, woman to woman, I’m sure you understand what I mean when I say that I know... other ways to persuade men.’ I smiled. Gross. She smiled back.

John stood silently for a second, and then said, ‘now, have you got a first aid kit?’

‘In the kitchen. Come with me. You two, please go in here,’ she said, gesturing to the front room.

‘Oh! Thank you!’ Sherlock said, still in his posh tone. It was hilarious. As Sherlock and I walked into the front room, the two others walked away to the kitchen.

The front room was, if possible, even more elegant than the other. Everything was white, or at least near white, and there were long drapes in front of the windows. We sat down on the nearest sofa, which was surprisingly soft, and yet it kept its form when we sat. I glared at sherlock, who in return grinned. Not long after we had sat down, we could hear footsteps. Sherlock sat up properly and put his handkerchief up to his cheek.

The apparent owner of the footsteps said, ‘hello. Sorry to hear that you’ve been hurt. I don’t think Kate caught your name.’

‘I’m so sorry. I’m ...’ Sherlock said with his posh voice looking at his laps. I nudged him in the ribs, and he finally looked up. In had walked a completely naked woman, or rather, The Woman. Sherlock’s voice failed him, as the shock took over his brain.

‘Oh, it’s always hard to remember an alias when you’ve had a fright, isn’t it? Mr Sherlock Holmes. And his “girlfriend”. Close your mouth darling,’ she said, as she walked toward me. I realised that I was open-mouthed staring at her. I quickly closed it and cleared my throat.

‘Miss Adler, I presume,’ Sherlock said. John came in with a bowl, his eyes fixed on it, so none of its content would be spilled. When he looked up, he stopped and looked awkwardly from Irene to the bowl to Irene again.

‘I’ve missed something, haven’t I?’ He said.

‘Please, sit down. Oh, if you’d like some tea, I can call the maid.’ Irene answered as she walked away from Sherlock and sat in a chair. Sherlock was fidgeting nervously with the sofa. I put my hand on his hand to relax him. Don’t get me wrong, fidgeting is fine, but I expected that he wanted to look more… formal. He looked at me. I gave him a soft smile.

‘I had some at the Palace,’ he said and squeezed my hand a little.

‘I know.’

‘Clearly,’ I said.

‘I had a tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone’s interested.’ John said.

Sherlock and Irene looked at each other for a while. Then he looked at John. And then me. He looked nervous. I squeezed his hand.

‘D’you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr Holmes?’ Irene broke the silence. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her. ‘However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.’

‘You think I’m a guy with a bleeding face?’ He asked.

‘No, I think you’re damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case, it’s yourself.’ She said leaning forward. ‘Oh, and somebody loves you. I mean other than the obvious young lady sitting next to you.’ I blushed and looked away. I quickly let go of Sherlock’s hand. Irene smiled. ‘If I had to punch that face, I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.’ Now she looked at John, who forced a quick laugh and said ‘now, could you please put something on?’

‘Why? Are you feeling exposed?’

Sherlock stood up and took his coat. ‘I don’t think John knows where to look.’

‘No, I think he knows exactly where. Not sure about you.’ She said, taking his coat.

‘If I wanted to look at naked women, I’d borrow John’s laptop.’

I giggled, and held my hand in front of my mouth, whoops.

‘You do borrow my laptop.’ John said.

‘I confiscate it.’

Irene put on Sherlock’s coat and wrapped it around her. ‘Well, never mind. We’ve got better things to talk about. Now tell me – I need to know. How was it done?

‘What?’ Sherlock asked.

‘The hiker with the bashed-in head. How was he killed?’

What was she doing?

‘That’s not why we’re here.’

‘No, no, no, you’re here for the photographs but that’s never gonna happen, and since we’re here just chatting anyway ...’

‘That story’s not been on the news yet. How do you know about it?’ Asked John.

‘I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes.’

‘Oh. And you like policemen?’

‘I like detective stories – and detectives. Brainy’s the new sexy.’

‘Positionofthecar-‘ Sherlock mumbled.

‘I’m sorry?’ I said.

‘Er, the position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire. That and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head. That’s all you need to know.’

‘Okay, tell me: how was he murdered?’ Irene asked.

‘He wasn’t,’ I said. Sherlock looked at me.

‘You don’t think it was murder?’ Irene asked, now staring at me from head to toe.

‘I know it wasn’t.’

‘How?’

‘The same way that I know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel and that the photographs I’m looking for are in this room.’ Sherlock pitched in.

‘Okay, but how?’

‘So, they are in this room. Thank you. John, man the door. Let no one in.’ The boys exchanged looks, and john went out the door, closing it.

‘Two men alone in the countryside several yards apart, and one car.’ Sherlock continued.

‘Oh. I – I thought you were looking for the photos now.’

‘No, no. Looking takes ages. I’m just going to find them but you’re moderately clever and we’ve got a moment, so let’s pass the time. Two men, a car, and nobody else.’

He squatted down as if he was at the crime scene. ‘The driver’s trying to fix his engine. Getting nowhere. And the hiker’s taking a moment, looking at the sky. Any moment now, something’s going to happen. What?’

‘The hiker’s going to die.’ Irene said.

‘No, that’s the result. What’s going to happen?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Oh, well, try to.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Stop boring me and think. It’s the new sexy.’

‘The car’s going to backfire.’

‘There’s going to be a loud noise.’

‘So, what?’

‘Oh, noises are important. Noises can tell you everything. For instance ...’ Sherlock paused dramatically, and just a moment later the smoke alarm went off. Irene immediately looked over at a big mirror over the fireplace. Sherlock and I followed her gaze. I smiled. He was brilliant.

‘Thank you. On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look toward her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.’ He said, as he walked over to the fireplace and ran his fingers underneath the mantelpiece. As he found a switch, he pressed it up, and the mirror started sliding upwards, revealing a grey safe.

‘Really hope you don’t have a baby in here.’

I tried really hard not to laugh, and I like to think that I succeeded.

‘All right, John, you can turn it off now.’

The alarm kept ringing.

‘I said you can turn it off now.’ Sherlock nearly shouted.

‘Give me a minute.’ The voice of John answered, and the beeping stopped.

‘Hmm. Should always use gloves with these things, you know.’ Sherlock continued. ‘Heaviest oil deposit’s always on the first key used – that’s quite clearly the three – but after that, the sequence is almost impossible to read. I’d say from the make that it’s a six-digit code. Can’t be your birthday – no disrespect but clearly you were born in the eighties; the eight is barely used, so ...’

‘I’d tell you the code right now, but you know what? I already have.’ Irene said. I frowned, and so did Sherlock. ‘Think.’

The door burst open with a loud noise, and in came 4 men, one of which had a gun aimed at Sherlock.

‘Hands behind your head.’ He said and looked at Irene and me. ‘On the floor. Keep it still.’

Two men came and walked Irene and I nearer to John, who was being bundled by the fourth guy.

‘Sorry, Sherlock.’ John said.

‘Ms Adler and uh young lady, on the floor.’ He repeated. We got shoved down beside John who had a pistol to the back of his head. As I hit the floor, a cutting pain returned to my head, and I fell forwards. The man behind me quickly catches me and tightened his grip around my hands in the air. Soon I felt the cold of a pistol on the back of my head as well.

‘Don’t you want me on the floor too?’ Sherlock asked, cockily.

‘No, sir, I want you to open the safe.’ He had a strong American accent.

‘American. Interesting. Why would you care?’ Sherlock said glancing at Irene.

‘Sir, the safe, now, please.’

‘I don’t know the code.’

‘We’ve been listening. She said she told you.’

‘Well, if you’d been listening, you’d know she didn’t.’

‘I’m assuming I missed something. From your reputation, I’m assuming you didn’t, Mr Holmes.’

‘For God’s sake. She’s the one who knows the code. Ask her.’

‘Yes, sir. She also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm. I’ve learned not to trust this woman.’

‘Mr Holmes doesn’t ...,’ said Irene.

‘Shut up. One more word out of you – just one – and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your head. That, for me, will not be a hardship.’

I looked at him, shocked. I knew they were violent, but wow. As a sense of fear crept over me, I heard John’s words inside my head: ‘Are you serious, Sherlock? She’s obviously super hangover. This may get dangerous, and she can’t even stand up without falling over.’ Maybe I should have stayed home? No way.

‘Mr Archer. At the count of three, shoot the young lady. She seems the least important to him, we may need Doctor Watson for later’.

I gulped. Was this real? I hoped for the life of me that it was just a nightmare, but the cold of the pistol seemed far too real.

‘I don’t have the code,’ said Sherlock. I felt the pistol being pressed further into my neck and heard the sound of the gun cocking. My eyes went blurry.

‘One.’

‘I don’t know the code.’

‘Two.’ I looked at Sherlock, beggingly. I was not ready to die.

‘She didn’t tell me. I don’t know it!’ he shouted.

‘I’m prepared to believe you any second now.’

‘Three.’ The fear was real. I looked at Sherlock. He looked at me apologetically. That didn’t help. Then something clicked in my head. Not the gun, but a realisation. I looked at Sherlock again to catch his attention. Then I looked at Irene, and back at him. I then looked at his breast, waist, and hips. His eyes widened. God, I hoped I was right.

‘No, stop!’ Sherlock shouted. Please let me be right. Neilson held up his hand to stop Archer. I stared at Sherlock, who slowly turned towards the safe and lowered his hands. As Neilson watched him closely, he slowly reached out a finger towards the keypad and punched 3, 2. He hesitated for a moment, but then punched 2, 4. Pausing again, he punched 3, 4. The safe beeped and unlocked. I closed my eyes in relief and looked at Sherlock. ‘Thank you,’ I mouthed. He smiled.

‘Thank you, Mr Holmes. Open it, please.’ The man said. Sherlock twisted the handle to open it and looked at Irene. Then he shouted ‘Vatican cameos’, which made John duck. Seeing John duck, I did the same. Sherlock pulled the door open and ducked, and immediately a gun was fired from the safe. The gunshot Archer, who was standing directly in front of it, in the chest. Sherlock quickly stood up and grabbed the man who had been threatening us’ s pistol, which he used to slap him across the face. The man dropped down on the floor unconscious. I quickly stoop up and kicked John’s guy right in the nether region, which made him fall to the ground. I then grabbed his gun and stomped him in the face, so he fell unconscious. Irene had in the meantime managed to deal with her guy and was aiming at his face on the ground.

‘D’you mind?’ asked Sherlock, and as Irene replied with ‘not at all’ she smashed the gun across his face. Sherlock quickly took something from the safe. John was standing over Archer’s body.’

‘He’s dead.’ He said.

‘Thank you,’ Irene said, looking at Sherlock. ‘You’re very observant.’

‘Observant?’ John asked

‘I’m flattered.’ Irene continued.

‘Don’t be,’ said Sherlock, walking over to me to see if I was alright. I nodded.

‘Flattered?’ John asked.

‘There’ll be more of them. They’ll be keeping an eye on the building.’ I said.

Sherlock and I hurried out of the room and out to the streets. Soon after John followed.

John said, ‘we should call the police,’ which was followed by three gunshots from Sherlock’s gun. ‘On their way.’

‘For God’s sake!’

‘Oh, shut up. It’s quick.’

We went back to the sitting room. John and I then went to check the rest of the house to see where they came in. I checked the rest of this floor, while John checked the 2nd. Not long after we had gone our separated ways, John shouted ‘Y/N!’ As I came running up the stairs, I quickly spotted the body of the intercom lady laying on the floor. John had put his hand to her mouth to check her breathing and was now checking her pulse. ‘She’s all right. Just out cold.’ I went to the bathroom and saw the open window. They must’ve come on through here. John had seen it as well.

I shouted ‘Sherlock!’ but there was no response, so I quickly ran down the stairs to the sitting room. Sherlock was laying on the ground, strained. Irene was sitting on a chair.

‘OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’ I shouted.

‘He’ll sleep for a few hours. Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit. It makes for a very unattractive corpse. All through a kiss from his favourite young lady may help.’

‘Shut up!’ I said, finding the syringe she had used on him. ‘What’s this? What have you given him!?’

‘He’ll be fine. I’ve used it on loads of my friends.’ I stared at her in disbelief. Then I slapped Sherlock in the face to wake him. ‘Sherlock, can you hear me?’

‘You know, I was wrong about him. He did know where to look.’ Said Irene. I went over to the corpse of Archer and took his gun. I then pointed it at Irene. ‘Help him. Help him now.’

‘Ooo scarrryyyy’ Irene said mockingly. ‘Are you sure you’re not in love with him?’

‘Shut up and help him. Surely you have an antidote.’

‘I’ve already told you he’ll be fine.’

I cocked the gun as I heard John run down the stairs- ‘What’s happening?’ He asked. ‘Jesus Y/N, what are you doing!?’ I tilted my head towards Sherlock, and John hurried over to him. ‘Y/N, put down the gun.’ He said. I relentlessly put it down, and Irene hurried away. ‘Goddamn it John!’

‘He’ll be fine.’ Sherlock was trying to get up but couldn’t. It hurt me to see him in pain. John called a cab, and together we carried Sherlock out. On the way home, John asked, ‘did you ever figure out what the code was?’

I looked at John. ‘Her measurements. The code was her measurements. Turns out Sherlock did know where to look. Or at least with a little help.’

John sniggered. The rest of the car ride was quiet. Sherlock was ”sitting” between me and John. It was a tight squeeze on purpose so that he wouldn’t just – slide away.

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