A thorn by any other name would hurt just as deep, or whatever the saying is.
~~~
Greg Lestrade would say Sherlock Holmes was always the smartest in the room. Whether at 221B or Scotland Yard, no ordinary person ever came close to compete with his...
Hurrying towards 221B, the cab driver was still a little taken aback by your tip of at least twice the fare. While knocking was courteous, you instead pick-locked the door, threw your gloves into your pocket, and stormed up the stairs.
"Sherlock Holmes, you-" your voice rang out from the stairs, echoing irritation until you reached the living room of 221B and ended up walking in on a little something, "company?"
"Y/n," both eyes land on you, one holding a glimmer of mischief and the other holding annoyance. "Keeping an eye on you the last few days has been fun, especially your little outing with Johnny Boy and this pretty little thing," Hearing Jim say this made your stomach churn. Oh, you were going to get him back.
Can you tell who was annoyed? "Y/n, don't you know it's rude not to knock?" Sherlock grits.
"You know it's rude to hold guns at guests?" you shoot back, "and whoever you are, don't you know it's rude to hold a gun to your host's head?" throwing your coat off, you felt a little more awkward to say what you were going to in front of Jim as well. "I don't care what you two have going on, client or whatever, Sherlock, we need to talk."
Sherlock lowers his gun and places it back in his suit jacket. "Oh, little Sherly taking orders now? How quaint," Jim mocks, giving you a now annoyed side-eye. "Go on, my next meeting is in two hours,"
Pulling Sherlock aside by the collar, Jim's phone snapped a photo or two, ignoring the rude finger you threw his way. "Y/n, now is not the time,"
"Yeah, I know it's not, but I don't care about your little date; I need answers, and I need them now," you push him against the kitchen counter, doing your best to block him from moving away.
Sherlock looks to Jim, who poked the glass of one of his taxidermies, "Fine, but make it quick,"
"Why won't you let me in on the case?" You stood there, serious look plastered while his morphed into confusion. "You heard me,"
"That's what this is about?" In hindsight, there were better times to do this, but how were you to know Jim would be here? He found the air tag you placed in his phone case a while ago.
"Yes," your voice waivered from its confidence, stance loosening a little from its former tense state. "I want to know what's going on before you start treating me like Greg," you fold your arms.
His hands lift from the edge of the counter, finger lifting to your cheek and pushing it in Jim's direction. Cool to touch, his hands were just on the line between soft and calloused. "See him?" he whispers as Jim continues to wander the room. "Jim Moriarty, the person who Thorn is working with... or for,"
"Oh," is all you muster, slightly irked by his last comment. Work for Jim? Not in a million years.
"Oh, is right," he then moves your face back to him, letting go soon after and leaning back, "If you want to help so badly, then let me deal with this. Go down the stairs and out the door. Wait there until he leaves,"
"That's not-" your lips tighten when he narrows his look at you. "Fine. But then I want you to tell me everything,"
~~~
Slumping against the wall, you see a car pull up. "Hey, Petal, you get put in time out?"
"Oh, shove it, Seb," you roll your eyes, turning away with your arms folded.
"What happened now?" he takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one, letting it hang loosely at the edge of his lips. "I saw you rush in from down the street," he offers it, but you quickly shake your head.
"Greg was talking about how he's always left out of the cases, and I don't want Sherlock suddenly finding something that could get me in hot water," your eyes dart to the window ledge above.
"Wouldn't it be smarter not to get involved?" He suggests, letting ash tap off the end, brushed away by the wind.
"If I know what he has on Thorn, then I know what to do to throw him off my trail." If Sherlock and Jim's rivalry were as intense as you've assumed, then you'd hope Jim would be taken as a priority instead of a phantom.
"So I'm guessing that means Sherlock's feelings aren't really on your radar," Seb takes the last drag before tossing it on the ground, crushing it under his boot and swiping it away.
"Why would it be?" taking a moment to examine his look and words, you instantly sigh out in amusement. "Holmes was never an interest beyond curiosity, plus Jim seems to be ruining his life more than I could be bothered to,"
"Heartless," he whistles teasingly.
"Ice cold," you play along before straightening up at the opening door. "But thank you for the offer; I don't tend to go on dates with random strangers," changing the subject, you were glad Seb played along with nothing more than an eye roll.
"Worth a try," he muses, looking at Jim and Sherlock. Both men were left confused. "Car is waiting, boss," with that, you back up to really sell it, "Yeah, sorry, darl, I work for the 'enemy',"
Keeping quiet, you let Sherlock get between you and the other two. "Well, it was nice meeting you two, I guess,"
"Can't say the same," Sherlock sneers, further irritated by Jim's maniacal laughter.
"Isn't he just adorable when he's all protective?" Jim pats Seb's chest, walking to the car, "Ciao!"
"So-" The following few words were cut off as Sherlock dragged you into the building, slamming the door shut.
"Did he hurt you?" Sherlock starts to examine you, turning your cheek left to right, lifting both arms, spinning you around like a waltzing partner. You were sent into a confused blank. Unsure of how to react, you just stayed silent, staring with nothing on your mind but the gentle yet concerned tone and touch. "Y/n? Did he?"
"No. No, he... didn't, no," you stammer out, finally gaining your grasp on reality. "I'm fine. We just had a chat," you say bashfully when both his hands rest on your shoulders. "Sherlock, I'm fine,"
He seemed to finally lay off, letting go and stepping back, "Apologies, I... well, I wasn't aware Sebastian Moran would be there," he could feel a blush creep up, "if I did, I wouldn't have sent you downstairs,"
"It's fine, I-" The awkwardness of the interaction was suddenly halted when John burst through the door.
"Did I just see Moriarty??" Never had you been so glad to see John in your life.
"Yeah, but we're all okay, right?... right?" Looking at Sherlock, your assumption didn't seem so sure anymore, though with the show you had to put on, being nonchalant about Jim would have Sherlock interrogating you instantly.
"I think we need to reconsider Thorn's possible identity." He looks to John, then you.
Shit.
~~~
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