Pin Drop (Sherlock x Reader)

Outted

"Oh no. I do not touch. I am afraid that my brother over there is kinder than I." His voice was stoic and made me cringe. Mycroft Holmes was an ass, I had decided in this moment. I put my hand against my side and cocked my head.

"With an attitude like that I am not surprised no one knows of you Mr. Holmes." I replied sarcastically as I flopped into Sherlocks chair. John's face was one of pure pleasure in this moment. I quickly remembered the events of last night and sat upright in the chair. "Where are the bombs?"

"BOMBS?! SHERLOCK HOLMES YOU TOLD ME NOTHING OF BOMBS!!" Mrs. Hudson yelled up the stairs from down below. Her voice was full of concern though I doubted whether Sherlock cared much for it.

"Oh calm your self Mrs. Hudson. It's dealt with." Sherlock rolled his eyes before putting the violin against his shoulder and chin once again beginning to play. This time it was a song of his own composition. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the chair. Sherlock was directly next to me and I felt every brush of movement from the bow strings.

The air around me seemed to chill when he played. The room came to a stop from every flurry of movement that anyone put out. All sounds drowned out by the slow melody being put into the small space in which we occupied. His breathing saw shallow and slow as he calculated his next movement of strings. Every muscle in his arms tensed as he brought the song to a close. His eyes fluttered open and found my own (E/C) eyes looking back to his.

John cleared his throat and broke our eye contact. Our eyes wandered until they found his. His normally soft and open demeaner had changed rapidly when he looked at my exposed shoulder. A branding was scared into the smooth skin there. I pulled my sleeve back down to cover it and subconsciously deducted John's actions.

His mouth had a twitch, which meant he was tense. His shoulders were slowly rising and lowering. He was measuring his breathing. He was probably upset about something. The final straw for me was how red his face was and how shaky his hands were.

"Oh spit it out John. We don't have all day." Sherlock broke the tense silence around the room and Mycroft had stood. I expected him to walk from the room instead he made his way over to me. I picked up the letter opener with out anyone seeing and stuffed it into my pocket as I stood to escape whatever was about to happen.

"She's branded Sherlock. It's a crown. Moriarty sent her." My cover was blown. I was completely screwed unless I did something drastic. Mycroft stepped closer to me and I jumped over the chair. I grabbed Sherlocks shoulder and pulled the knife from my pocket as I held it against his throat.

"Don't take another god damn step." I said sternly. Everyone stood rooted to their spot except Sherlock. His face turned into an upturned smirk as I tightened my grasp on his shoulder. John held his hands up as if I was going to murder him right here right now. That was not the plan.

"Impressive. You bested me. What's your next move?" Sherlocks voice caused me to falter for a second. His impeccable muscles distracted me. The way his shoulder felt under my fingers. For a moment I wondered what it would feel like again my skin.

"If I told you that it wouldn't be a surprise would it." I growled into his ear as I pushed the knife closer to his jugular. The way he smelled was intoxicating and I found myself purposely breathing in his scent.

"Put it down. Put the knife down (Y/N)." John's voice rang through the room. Mycroft had stopped where he stood and fixed his suit. His jacket sleeves were to short for his arms and his pants were a size to small. His tie was off center and his hair had yet to be done this morning. He must have rushed here.

"You all knew." I said hoarsely. My grip on Sherlock's shoulder loosened slightly. Which was enough for him to have me pinned again the wall. My knee was in a terrible pain as Sherlock's knee kept mine in place. my wrists were held together against my back by his hands and his hair tickled the back of my head.

"Actually only I did but, you were close enough to the answer." He let me go and handed the letter opener to John who just looked at him with complete shock. Mycroft put a hand on his brothers shoulder.

"Brother, do you think this wise?"

"She knows Jim. She will talk." Short and sweet. The conversation they had ended and Mycroft took his leave but not before shooting me one last look. I held my hands up in surrender and let out a long and painful sigh. The asshole had broken one of my ribs. I placed my hand on it only to be met with more pain. I groaned and lifted the shirt I was wearing. A huge purple and yellow bruise adorned my skin in the place where Sherlock's palm met my ribs.

"You bastard." I groaned and collapsed to the floor. The movement causing me to jerk in pain.

"John. Please help her and fix her rib while you're at it. We have a lot to discuss with her this evening." Sherlock turned and picked the violin back up. As he began to play again I smiled and let my eyes gloss over his features one more time before John helped me stand and took me into the kitchen where he pulled a first aid kit out of a cupboard.

"This is all we have until we can take you to a real hospital." John said as he tightened the bandages around my waist and ribs. Secretly I knew he was enjoying causing me pain and actually kind of reveled in it.

"Don't enjoy this to much Watson. I'm more skilled then you know." I growled and was only met with a half hearted laugh. His demeaner was back to its usual open and happy self. IT infuriated how he could change so fast. I couldn't keep a grasp on this emotions. I had a feeling Sherlock taught him that. It would confuse deduction.

He tighten the wrapping once more before standing up and putting everything away. I gasped in pain and bit my cheek. I wouldn't be vulnerable. He finished up putting everything away and throwing the extra stuff lying around in the waste bin before leaning against the counter and looking at me.

"What do I have something on my face circle jerk?" I asked moving my head around as if I was looking in the mirror.

"Clever. No you don't. I'm contemplating on whether we should put you into handcuffs."

"Ooo. Kinky Watson. At least take me to dinner first." I smirked as he turned scarlet. His cheeks puffed and he grabbed my arm roughly before dragging me back into the living room.