No Strings Attached: Doctor Strange x GN Reader (Marvel and Sherlock Crossover)

Chapter Ten: Unexpected

"He might be able to afford it because of family," you argued with Sherlock who was convinced that he had bought the watch with money from his job at the club.

"Look at him, Y/N," Sherlock told you as you tried to analyze the man, "Look at the chain around his neck."

"A ring, he must be a widower," you noticed before catching a glimpse of a wedding ring on his left hand, "But he still has a ring."

"Look closer," Sherlock told you, as you studied the ring as the man poured glasses of alcohol.

"Oh I see, it was his fathers, he died and inherited it, so family is out of the option. Dead spouse and dead family, tough luck."

"An alcoholic as well, look at the stares he keeps giving the bottles behind him."

You nodded, sipping at your drink as you watch the man, trying to not look suspicious. A strange feeling began to overtake you, a sense that you were being watched. 'Accidentally' knocking over your napkin, you bent over to pick it up from the floor, noticing the bouncer staring at you and Sherlock.

"William, the bouncer," whispering under your breath, and glancing in the direction, "He's watching us, we need to look less suspicious."

"Pretend to be intoxicated," Sherlock grabbed your hand, helping you out of your seat, pretending to stumble you both made your way to the center, where people were dancing rather classily compared to other clubs

Sherlock looked into your eyes for a moment, you gave him a nod of confirmation before he placed his hand on your waist. Leaning in you met him for a kiss, giggling lightly and making sure that the bouncer could hear you.

Sherlock twirled you around, narrowly missing the other couples gathered on the dance floor. You dipped him down, as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

Glancing up you noticed the bouncer's attention on another couple, "He bought it."

"Good," Sherlock stood up fully, readjusting his blazer and tie, walking off towards the corner to a table as you followed behind him.

"You're being very convincing today," you smirked as Sherlock analyzed the people in the club, looking for clues, "had practice with John?"

"Shut up," Sherlock glared at you before turning away.

"Wow," you jested, "So mature, William. I was only joking."

"It's no wonder who your brother is when you make comments like that."

"Ouch," you winced, before taking a drink off a tray from a passing waiter. "Adopted brother, no monster like that could be my biological one."

"Are we interviewing anyone or just people-watching?" You asked Sherlock, who was still staring rather obviously at the bar and the bartenders, hopefully, they just believed he wanted some alcohol.

Sherlock ignored you, you could tell he wasn't in his mind palace, he was just being rather rude since he seemed to be tired of your comments.

"Fine," huffing as you blew a strand of hair out of your face, "Be that way, but I will tell Molly not to let you in the morgue, and she does like me better."

Pulling out your phone, you went to your own devices. Using the special access, that Mycroft had so graciously gifted you after picking up a case for him that Sherlock refused to do, to look up even more documents, not normally given to the public.

Something seemed off about this entire thing. You knew the connection existed, but the question was, why? Was he doing it to keep clients happy? Was he doing it for himself, a possible escape?

Even on the records something was off, you couldn't place what, but something in the back of your mind told you this wasn't the records any normal club would do.

Broken out of your thoughts when Sherlock nudged you, you looked around, noticing one of the bartenders gathering his things, the same one you had talked to earlier.

Staying put you watched as the man left through the door marked 'staff exit', pulling a cigarette out of his pocket as he went through.

Knowing Sherlock was on the same train of thought as you, you stayed put, knowing the man would be there for a while, a heavy smoker, who would likely go through at least two cigarettes before leaving.

–

Sherlock got up from his chair, stopping a moment and holding out his arm for you to link your own through his. "Ready?"

You took a deep breath before plastering on a fake smile for all to see, "Ready."

Narrowly avoiding the sweeping crowds on the dance floor and the rest of the club, you took one last look for the night, a shiver of disgust running through you. No doubt, most of these people knew the truth, too rich to care, as long as it benefited them.

Pushing past the bouncer, Sherlock held open the door for you as you shot him a gracious look, "Who knew you were such a gentleman?"

"Oh, please, you know my mother would kill me if I didn't."

You both broke into snickers before turning the corner into the alleyway, seeing the faint light of a lit cigarette in the distance, and the outline of a man.

"Can we ask you a few questions?" Walking up to the man, you offered him another cigarette from your coat, his almost done.

He looked you over before narrowing his eyes, answering bluntly, "No."

"Please I just want to know one thing," you begged, knowing it was better for you to do this than Sherlock, "Do you know anything about James Moriarty?"

"What did you say?" He sneered, pushing you against the alley wall, pulling a knife out of his coat pocket, and holding it to your neck. "Don't speak his name."

"Don't hurt them," Sherlock told the man, making him look away from you and stare at Sherlock, who held a gun to his face.

"I'm trying to help people," you tried to reason with the bartender, "A woman was murdered because of him!"

"Try finding someone willing to commit suicide then," the bartender spat before releasing you, taking one last look at Sherlock before running away.

Sherlock stepped to your side, as you leaned against him, grateful for the small act, "Well, that didn't go as expected."

Why do I have a bunch of old guys in my pms on here calling me pretty?

Happy b-day to Sherlock ig. I haven't been posting at all because I quite literally failed some of my exams so the holidays turned into my personal depression fest.