Battle For The Crowns {A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction}

Chapter 3~ My Sincerest Apologies, 'Greg.'

A/N: OMG!! 30+ reads? Thanks so much guys! It means a lot! And thanks for the votes, that means a lot as well! <3
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"So, where do we begin?"
~~3rd PoV
"Well, you can begin by telling me who this lady is!" The man with silver hair exclaimed.
"Oh, right. Introductions. Brooklyn Jennings, meet Graham Lestrade. Graham, meet Brooklyn." Sherlock quickly said.
"Ah! Hello, Graham!" Brooklyn said.
"It's.. It's.. Greg. But call me Lestrade. It's easier for some people to remember." He scowled.
"Oh. My sincerest apologies, Greg." Brooklyn replied. "I wasn't aware that your name was Gregory. Sherlock here told me incorrectly."
"Shut up, Brooklyn. We have things to do." Sherlock snapped.
"Aren't we going to do presents?" Ms. Hudson giggled.
"Ms. Hudson? Are you drunk?" Brooklyn asked.
"Noo, darling.." She replied.
"Alright. Sherlock, are you sure I'm not intruding? I can leave and come back when you're not hosting a Christmas party. Although, I didn't really think you were the Christmasy type."
"I'm not. Now, you're staying, now get these files and come with me. It's too loud and I cannot think in all of this merriment." Sherlock snapped, and walked towards his bedroom.
Brooklyn frowned at his retreating figure, and looked around. "Am I supposed to follow like a puppy?"
John sighed and said, "yes. That's why my girlfriend just walked out; she thought we were a couple." 
"Oh." She got up and began walking towards his room, "my sincerest condolences."

<<<*>>> Brooklyn's PoV
I stepped into Sherlock's room, and quietly closed the door behind me. Faintly, I heard a pattern of footsteps leaving, then another, then another, and then heels.
Molly, Lestrade, Ms. Hudson, and John had all gone downstairs, and probably wouldn't come back for a bit. John would probably end up sleeping in Ms. Hudson's flat on the couch, in order to make sure that she doesn't hurt herself.
"Mr. Holmes? You wanted to see me?" I asked quietly.
"Ah, yes. Miss Jennings, come sit." He patted the spot next to him on the bed.
I nodded, took off my 4 inch heels, and plopped down on the bed gracefully. "But please, if we're going to be working together, do call me Brooklyn. Miss Jennings is too.. Formal."
"Only if you will call me Sherlock then." He smirked.
"Very well, Sherlock. Let's review the information, shall we?" I asked, and began taking out files and folders to organize them.
But, there wasn't two more hands helping me. I turned and looked at Sherlock, while pausing my work. He was looking at me, unmoving.
"Sherlock?" I asked.
His eyes were transfixed on mine, as if I were just another mystery or a case he had to solve. I looked into his eyes, as he looked into mine.
They were.. Breathtakingly beautiful. The dark blue danced with the silver, as little flecks of green appeared everywhere. The light blue swirled in with the green, that mixed with the dark blue, that fused with the silver, creating a rainbow hue that colored his eyes. They were extraordinary, while mine were a simple jade green, with a few speckles of silver and gray.
"Sherlock?" I whispered. "We have to do this. He has to be stopped."
"Right." He looked away from me, and down to the files.
A faint blush crept up my cheeks, as I reviewed what just happened in my mind. I grabbed a file and began examining it to cover it up, but only to find it was my file.
BCJ -Dark Commander (IT)
~Justin Kennedy (E)
~Anthea Isaacs (E)
~Irene Adler (NE)
I frowned, and kept looking down.
D.O.B. -Oct. 31, 1975
Relatives- Unknown
Location- Unknown
Full Name- Unknown

"Sherlock? What is this? Why do you have a file on me?" I asked, upset.
"Oh.. That. Well, um, I couldn't read you, and so.. I, uh, got a file." He explained sheepishly, while looking through Moriarty's blueprints for 'Mission Legion'.
"Oh. You could've asked, you know." I retorted frustratedly.
"Yes, but you would've lied. Now, help me with these blueprints. What am I looking at?"
I sighed, and leaned down to indicate where everything was on the prints, and what they mean. However, my dress was starting to get slightly uncomfortable.
Every time I took a breath to explain, it would cinch tighter on my waist, to the point where I thought I was about to suffocate.
"Brooklyn? You okay there?" He asked.
"Stupid dress." I snapped, and began shifting it around, awkwardly. "I need other clothes."
"That's nice. Now, so if you go in through This vent right here, you'll pop out at the training grounds? Is that what you're saying?"
I scowled and him, and replied, "yes. Can I go home? I need clothes."
"I thought your home was in Russia..?" He asked incredulously.
"Ah damn. So it is." I replied. "Am I going to be spending a lot of time here?"
"While on this case? Yes.."
"Okay. I'll start flat-searching now then. Can't be going back and forth from Russia all day, everyday. Much too dangerous and noticeable." I mumbled, and pulled out my phone to begin.
"Brooklyn, where are you?" Sherlock asked, sighing.
"Your room?" I asked.
"No. Where are you?"
"An flat complex- oh." I stopped short.
"Uh huh."
"I dunno.. I don't really think you'd want me as your neighbor."
"Might not be too bad. You would be a good replacement for John at times." He mused.
"Oh, alright. I suppose I can talk to Ms. Hudson tomorrow when she's not drunk. I'm not going to take advantage of her. She's too sweet." I said as I bent back down over the files, ignoring my dress, and the stare from Sherlock.
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I woke up in the exact same place I fell asleep, Sherlock's room. I was still in my dress, my hair was still up, and my makeup and earrings were still on. Next to me, Sherlock was passed out, head on a file. We must have fallen asleep while reviewing these blasted things.
I checked the time, 7:15. I slept in far too late.
I jumped up, and ran downstairs to see Ms. Hudson. My hair was a disaster, my dress was crinkled, and I had bags under my eyes from lack of sleep.
"Ms. Hudson?" I rapped on her door smartly, not even guessing she may not be up yet.
John came to the door, frowning. "Miss Jennings?"
"Brooklyn, please. Is Ms. Hudson up?" I asked, craning my neck over his small figure.
"No! Why the bloody hell are you up? It's 7:30 in the bleeding morning!" He exclaimed, while yawning.
I frowned and replied, "you don't get up this early? This is sleeping in.."
His mouth dropped and he shook his head ruefully. "Go back to sleep!"
"I cannot do that, for you see, I don't have clothes, and I'm contemplating moving into this apartment complex, 221C to be exact. But, every one of my possessions is back in Russia, so I'm going to see if, while I'm gone, I can get my team to come in, pay for it, and renovate the apartment. Do you believe Ms. Hudson will be alright with that?" I said, rapid-fire.
"Okay, one, English please. Two, I have no idea what you just said. All I could hear was the teacher from Charlie Brown. Wonk, wonk, wonky, wonk, wooooonk." He explained.
I sighed, and said, "just come get me when she's up. I'll be upstairs, going over case files."
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Three hours. Three bloody hours before I heard any movement from the bear in his room. And in that time, I had talked to Ms. Hudson about the flat, arranged payments, called my team to renovate, gone ahead and ordered my maids back in Russia to begin packing, AND, AND, cleaned Sherlock's flat. In three hours. Like. A. Boss.
Sherlock wandered out of his room, and so I darted over to him, to simply find that he had no clothing on, and was simply wearing a sheet.
"Oh, hello Sleeping Beauty. Aren't you going to put clothing on?"
"No." He yawned and blinked his eyes, trying to wake up.
"Now, for this particular person here, Sebastian Moran, I was thinking that-"
He put his forefinger to my lips and mumbled, "shh. Coffee."
I frowned as he walked into the kitchen, still waking up.
"But Sherlock, this-" I tried.
He whipped around and made a motion with his hands that resembled him closing my mouth.
I scowled and stormed back into the living room, waiting.
Eventually, he pranced his little self into the room, and sat down across from me, indicating that I continue.
I rolled my eyes and began, "now. Since you've awoken, I figured that we could pick up on Sebastian Moran. He's Moriarty's main sniper, and assistant. They're close, and share each other's secrets-"
"Brooklyn? Ms. Hudson wants to see you." John called from the doorway.
I sighed, got up, and walked downstairs. "Ms. Hudson?"
"Ah! Yes dearie, when will those men be here?" She asked.
My eyes flew open as I remembered. "1:30-ish. Speaking of which, I need to get back to Russia. Quickly."
I ran back upstairs and grabbed my phone. "Peter?! Yes, it's Brooklyn. I need the Jets over here, quickly. We're on a time schedule, and I'm sure you know all about the renovation."
"Yes ma'am. I'm sending one over to you now, it's on autopilot." He spoke, and I could hear faint clacking of a keyboard near him.
"Thanks love. I've got to leave, duty calls."
I whipped back around, and ran into Sherlock's room in order to grab my heels.
"Alright boys, I've got to go, be back soon." I spoke quickly, considering the Jets would be arriving in 10-15 minutes.
Sherlock mumbled something, and John just waved.
I rolled my eyes and darted down the stairs, and out to the local airport. It's certainly going to be interesting facing the Rebels that were rioting against Moriarty as well. I was their leader, broadly speaking, and they looked up to me.
They'll just have to get along a few weeks without me. I shouldn't be here too long.. Right?
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