[CONTAINS SMUT!] ❗️18+❗️
~~~
Being the youngest Holmes was always quite the journey, especially when you didn't want to show off your talents, maybe even lack of such. Compared to your brothers you were always the 'dumb' one. The teachers saw it, yo...
Of course, your little thank you gift was halted by Mycroft—John and Lestrade helping Sherlock with an intervention.
It was along the lines of:
"He is insane, do not communicate with him!"
"Don't you dare send a text,"
"Or a letter!"
Which you smugly replied, while watching Avengers; "If anyone needs an intervention, it's Sherlock, third drawer in the bathroom inside the cotton ball box,"
"SHERLOCK!" They all shout as you sink into your chair.
"Shut up! It's my favourite white boy!" You hiss, pointing to Loki back on screen. "Yes, sir," you murmur when he says 'kneel'.
"That's enough," Mycroft turned the TV off making you dead pan, grabbing Sherlock's gun.
"You're a dead man, Xander," cocking the gun, he paled and dashed out the flat as you ran after him.
"Tv is back on, Y/n!" Lestrade says in panic, one gunshot heard downstairs before your skipped back up the stairs and sat down. Mycroft stumbled up the stairs with teary eyes as he held up his wounded umbrella.
~~~
They had left but your plans were not foiled, oh no, no, no, they had only just begun. Slipping to the window, you eyed the street camera which flickered to you.
Obviously it wasn't one of Mike's, mainly because it really wasn't a government camera. Waving subtly at it, it cutely shook a bit like it's very own wave.
You held up the wrapped framed piece with it's own bow, camera zooming in on it. 221B's doorbell rang and you jumped at the intrusion. Toeing on some slippers, you scurry down and slowly open the door to see a blonde man standing there, he was a large build with a leather jacket, much higher than you and a messy stubble unlike Moriarty's well kept one.
"Who are you?"
"Sebastian Moran, Miss Holmes," your hand curled around the door to pull a gun from the small umbrella rack.
"And how do you know my name?"
"Well, it's my job," Moran stepped forward making you raise the gun to his chest, the outside world shrouded away from the small space open and taller figure. "Please remove the gun,"
"Kiss my ass, get inside," you pull him in and kick him to the floor, not much was done but enough for you to gain the upper hand. "Now, explain yourself before I call my brothers,"
"That wouldn't be wise," he hums.
"And why not?"
"Because then Mr Moriarty may not receive the gift you have for him," this caused the handgun to lower, and him to stand up.
"Oh, uhm, sorry," averted gaze trailed along the hall before you toss the gun back in the rack and walk up the stairs. "Come on in, I guess,"
Moran followed you up the stairs but you stopped when you saw his reflection. He eyed you closely, narrowing when you turned around.
"Please don't hide a camera in here, it's annoying,"
"How did you-"
"I'm a Holmes for god sake, I may not be able to deduce your very life story but I know enough tricks to save myself, I think," you grab the gift and hold it out.
"Thank you, Miss Holmes," Sebastian was about to leave but you stopped him.
"Just call me Y/n, I also made cookies," packing up a box full for him in the kitchen, he takes it with a soft smile once you return. "Chocolate chip, I hope neither you or Moriarty hate or are allergic?"
"No, not at all, thank you, Y/n," one nod and he was gone.
There was something off though. Elevating to the mounted skull on the wall, you grab a newly placed camera and frown at it. "I said no cameras, Jim,"
There was a ring from the flat's phone. Rolling your eyes you pick it up and look at the device's wiring. "I'm sorry, my dear, it's truly nothing personal,"
"When you're able to watch me in private then it becomes personal and creepy," you snark.
"I more so watch your brother frantically solve my crimes, it's like a sitcom with John mocking Sherly behind his back as you annoy him,"
"Yet there are times where I think I'm completely alone and then boom, Mr Moriarty is watching me,"
"The most is you dancing," Moriarty drags his gun along his skin, leaning his head on the end. "It's actually adorable,"
"Mhm, thanks,"
Moriarty studied your face on the monitor. "How did you know the camera was there? Hiding talents in that curious head of yours?"
"Barely a talent, Mike and Will insinuate to that very often if not directly,"
"No, no, no, don't listen to them, their ego is built on belittling people-"
"And yours isn't?" Jim's smirk grew, his teeth showing. He tried to deny before shrugging and confirming that it may be. "Thought so,"
"Let's play a game, darling," he purrs making the hairs on the back of your neck stick up. "You were able to so easily find the camera... put it back in it's place and see how long it takes for your dear brother to find it,"
Contemplation was given, the idea of beating Sherlock overcoming your senses as you grab the first camera from the bin as well as placing the one in your hand back.
"And this is my own little input," right in the kitchen, you knew Sherlock wouldn't think to check for cameras there so between a crack behind wallpaper, you made the paper tear enough so Moriarty could see. "How's that?"
"Utterly beautiful,"
"I know I am,"
"You're not wrong there," this caused your cheeks to heat up and Moriarty to laugh at the flustered glare. "Oh, here's Sebastian is with your gift,"
"And here Sherlock is back from a crime scene,"
~~~
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