200 Multifandom One Shots

Frenemies - Sherlock - Sherlock x Reader

Greg and John were doing their best to make it look as though they were listening, as Sherlock gave his latest deductions about a sting of incidents that had occurred; which, on the surface did not seem to be connected; yet if the younger Holmes was anything to be believed, were not only closely related, but were also a lead up to a murder that had occurred just the day before. A high-profile QC having been found with his skull cracked open and barristers wig pushed into his mouth. Both the detective inspector and doctor already having heard more or less the same thing from the woman that was currently sat behind Sherlock, not long before hurricane Holmes had made his way into The Yard. The two men noticing the twitch in the female detective's eye that she would get, whenever Sherlock thought that he had come up with an idea, before she had.

Frenemies, that was how Greg would describe them. (Y/n) and Sherlock, two sides of the same coin. Some days it appearing as though they were the best of friends; the two sharing the same analytical, deductive, quick minds. The two having the same ability to read people; to see things that others couldn't. The one never having to talk to the other, to seemingly know what they were thinking. John often finding her at the door to the flat, when the black dog that nipped at Sherlock's heels, tried to bring him down to his lowest ebb. And it was on days like that, they appeared to be the perfect match; John feeling that if there was a woman in the world that was made for his friend, it was most definitely (Y/n). But then......ah well, then there were days like this one. Days when they wanted nothing more than to outdo one another. Days when they felt the need to prove that their mind was superior. And on these days, Sherlock would be his usual cool self. His emotions, feelings locked firmly away while he just ignored her. And (Y/n), she would look like she wanted to rip his head off with her bare hands. That the main difference between the two, that anyone could see; the younger Holmes denying his emotions, his feelings, sentiment; whereas (Y/n), she was a woman that wore her heart on her sleeve. The kind of woman that if she disliked you, you were left in not doubt that she disliked you; and if she cared about you, then she most definitely showed that too. And the detective, unlike Sherlock, knew when and when not to share other people's darkest secrets. Cared enough to not embarrass, or shame other with things they didn't want to know, or others to know. Though given the way that she looked at that moment, Greg and John had an awful feeling that if Sherlock pushed her any further, she would share things about the younger Holmes, that no-one should know.

"You know, Holmes........." (Y/n) said, when he finally finished. Sherlock, Greg and John looking over to where she sat.

"I am not sure how any crime ever got solved before you bestowed your genius, upon we lesser mortals. How the prisons are so full, despite the fact that you seem to think that neither Greg, nor I, could find our own backside without your insight. And I am sure that you expect us both to get down on our hands and knees and worship at the alter of Holmes, for your deductions about this latest crime, giving thanks, and praising you. But I hate to burst your bubble, Sherlock.........actually, no I don't. More or less everything that you have just said, I told Greg and John before you even came through the door, bringing with you your usual brand of chaos." (Y/n) continued. Sherlock looking to the detective inspector and doctor, who both nodded in agreement, as she got to her feet and grabbed her coat.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I am off to get some uniforms, so that I can make an arrest." She added. Giving an annoyed Sherlock a smile, before heading out of the office.

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"Sherlock.........." John said, as he poked his head around the kitchen door. The doctor rolling his eyes as he saw his friend examining something through a microscope. It obvious that the younger Holmes still hadn't forgiven (Y/n) for announcing the solution to the crime before he had even got to New Scotland Yard.

"Sherlock.........." The doctor called out again. Making his way further into the room, as once more no reply came.

"Sher............"

"Enjoy your date." Sherlock suddenly said, without looking up from whatever he was doing.

"How did you...........?"

"You're wearing your best and most expensive shirt; and the spot of colour that I can see coming from your coat pocket, I would say was your regimental tie; which you only wear when you go out on a date, as you think it will impress the lady." Sherlock explained, as he made a note on the pad next to him, before looking up.

"Well I...........I just thought." John replied, as he pulled the tie from his pocket.

"I won't wait up." Sherlock continued, before he turned his attention back to his microscope. John nodding before letting the kitchen door close behind him.

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Sherlock rose from his chair, as a knock at the door of the flat, rang out. The younger Holmes straightening his shirt, before opening the ingress.

"I see John is off out on another date. I swear that he only wears that shirt and tie when he is going out with a woman." (Y/n) said, smiling at Sherlock, as he opened the door fully, allowing her to enter.

"It's his third blind date in the last two weeks. Such a sweet man should really have more luck in his love life.......?" She continued. Sherlock absentmindedly humming in agreement, as he helped her off with her coat.

"Do you think he will be out all night, with this one?" (Y/n) queried, as she turned and placed her hand on his cheek.

"Given what I saw in his wallet, it would seem that he certainly hopes so." The younger Holmes replied, as he placed his arms around her waist.

"And does this mean that you have forgiven me for solving the crime before you?" The detective chuckling, as a slight scowl crossed his handsome features.

"I had plans on making it up to you. But if you haven't forgiven me........" (Y/n) pushing herself away, only to find her pulled back into the consulting detective's arms. Her hand making its way into his dark, wavy hair, as his lips met hers. The kiss deepening, until oxygen became more urgent than Sherlock's desire to show her that he did really care. (Y/n) then taking him by the hand and leading him to his bedroom; sure, as the door closed behind them, that neither Greg nor John would ever believe that she and Sherlock were so much more than just frenemies.