Y/N's P.O.V.
"Will you two please keep it down?" Sherlock snapped at the two detectives, before closing the door on them and I smirked as I continued to read my book, whilst laid on the couch.
"Now, you haven't always been in life insurance, have you?" Sherlock continued to deduce his client who came in because... well, it was so boring, I couldn't even remember. I didn't really listen to his deductions, until Sherlock's slightly alarmed voice called out for his friend.
"Uh, yeah, yeah, listening." John appeared from the kitchen and I looked at my watch.
"Aw, look. He finally noticed the balloon." I said in a teasing tone, making John chuckle. The client looked at me and I gave him a small smile.
"What is that?"
"That is me." John sighed.
"Well, it's a me substitute."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, you know I value your little contributions." Sherlock scoffed.
"Yeah, it's been there since 9 this morning." John smirked a little, leaving Sherlock to look shocked.
"Was it? Where were you?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John.
"Helping Mrs. H with her Sudoku." John shrugged
"Well, that honestly sounds a lot more interesting than this." I muttered and the client looked at me again.
"No offence."
"What about my girlfriend?" The client asked Sherlock.
"What?"
"You said I had an ex." The client reminded.
"You have a Japanese tattoo in the crook of your elbow in the name Akako. It's obvious you've tried to have it removed." Sherlock rolled his eyes and I stood up, stretching my arms above my head.
"Surely that means I want to forget her, not that I'm indifferent." The client mumbled and I sighed.
"If she'd really hurt your feelings, you would have had the word obliterated. But the first attempt wasn't successful and you haven't tried again. So it seems you can live with the slightly blurred memory of Akako. Hence, the indifference." I pointed out, before moving over and kissing Sherlock's head.
"Tea?"
"Please." He nodded. The client laughed a little as I moved into the kitchen.
"I thought you'd done something clever. Oh, no. No, but now you've explained it, it's dead simple, innit?" The client asked and I rolled my eyes, making two drinks.
"I've withheld this information from you until now, Mr. Kingsley, but I think it's time you knew the truth." Sherlock sighed and I smirked a little, knowing exactly what Sherlock was about to do. He didn't appreciate people insulting his intelligence.
"Have you ever wondered if your wife was a little bit out of your league?"
"Well..."
"You thought she was having an affair. I'm afraid it's far worse than that. Your wife is a spy. Her real name is Greta Bengsdotter. Swedish by birth, and probably the most dangerous spy in the world." I interrupted Sherlock's little speech as I brought his cup in, clearing my throat.
"Y/N, you're an assassin, not a spy, don't flatter yourself, although I don't doubt that you're dangerous." I glared at him slightly, handing him his cup and he smiled, the client looking kind of scared.
"Love you."
"You're a prick." I sighed.
"That means she loves me too." Sherlock looked at the client and John shook his head.
"Anyway, your wife. She's been operating deep undercover for the past 4 years now as your wife, for one reason only, to get near the American Embassy, which is right across the road from your flat. Tomorrow, the US President will be at the embassy as part of an official state visit. As the president greets members of staff, Greta Bengsdotter, disguised as a 22-stone cleaner, will inject the president in the back of the neck with a dangerous new drug, hidden inside a secret compartment inside her padded armpit. This drug will then render the president entirely susceptible to the will of their new master. None other than James Moriarty."
"You done?" I asked, taking a sip of my tea and Sherlock held up his hand, silently letting me know he was about to continue.
"Moriarty will then use the president as a pawn to destabilise the United Nations General Assembly, which is die to vote on a nuclear non-proliferation treaty, tipping the balance on favour of a first-strike policy against Russia. This chain of events will then prove unstoppable, thus precipitating World War Three." Sherlock sighed, looking at me with a small smile.
"Now I'm done."
"Are you serious?" John chuckled.
"No, of course not. His wife left him because his breath stinks and he likes to wear her lingerie." Sherlock replied, standing up.
"I don't!" The client protested.
"Just the bras!"
"Get out." Sherlock sighed and the client quickly left in embarrassment. Sherlock slammed the door behind him.
"So, what's this all about then?" John asked as I went back to my book.
"Having fun." Sherlock shrugged.
"Fun?" John repeated before there was a knock on the door and the lady detective walked in.
"Sherlock-"
"Borgia Pearl. Boring. Go." He pushed her out of the flat, despite her protests and Lestrade came in instantly.
"Oh, this better be good."
"Oh, I think you'll like it." Lestrade held up a bag of what appeared to be a broken statue. Sherlock examined the bag closely and John came forward.
"That is the bust, isn't it? The one that was broken?" John asked, catching my attention.
"The Thatcher bust?" I questioned.
"No, it's another one. Different owner. Different part of town." Lestrade sighed as Sherlock took the bag from him.
"You were right. This is a thing. Something is going on. What's wrong? I thought you'd be pleased?"
"I am pleased." Sherlock mumbled.
"You don't look pleased." Lestrade mumbled.
"This is my game face." Sherlock looked up.
"The game is on."
