What A Funny Thing [Sherlock X Suicidal!Reader]

Mister Holmes

You ran down the streets of London, the cold air chilling you to the bone. Under your long [P/C] trench coat was a leather belt with an empty holster. You had your SIG-Sauer P226R drawn and your hand with it pointed behind you as you ran forward. Your [H/L] [H/C] hair was dripping with sweat. On your lips was a slightly psychotic smile, but you weren't a psychopath. At least, if people did their research they wouldn't call  you one. No, you were a highly functioning sociopath.

The game was on and excitement filled your [E/C] eyes. Your smile stayed as the adrenaline kept pumping through your veins making you run faster, think better (if that were possible), and react quicker. It was pushing you on seeing as you were being pursued by some very angry criminals. You may have infiltrated their base and stole the information you needed for a certain someone. The papers were folded nicely in the top pocket of your [P/C] trench coat.

You turned a sharp corner and ran into a hard object. "Do watch where you're going next time.." you heard a deep voice say in a slightly offhand way. The man you just ran into looked down to see your panting figure smiling up at him. His brow furrowed as he began to look you up and down and he noticed you were doing the same to him. Shouts began sounding and you dashed into an alley just to your left. The tall man leaned against the wall as if nothing happened and the men ran past. You turned and began walking away, "Pleasure doing business with you Mister Holmes." you said with a smirk as you raised your hand in a small wave. You realized how alike you dressed. He raised an eyebrow, apparently impressed.

"And who might you be?" he asked in a voice of vague interest.

"Someone you'll be seeing around," you said still walking away with a cocky grin on your face and your gun in your hand. You pointed the gun at the sky and shot it several times. Sherlock didn't even flinch. "The police will be here in a few minutes," you called back to him, "Just tell them you solved the case!" He stood there, flabbergasted, as you walked away. He was intrigued, of course. He couldn't read you at all, but you could read him. And what you saw, you liked.

I needed to make it creepy....

He watched you with his head tilted slightly to one side until you disappeared around a corner. For a few moments he was tempted to chase after you, but he fought that urge. Too many questions were chasing each other around in his head like water going down a drain. Questions like How did you know him? Why couldn't he read you? and Who were you?  Thoughts still were swirling in the consulting detective's brain when the police arrived. Lestrade stepped out of the car to see Sherlock still staring at the corner you turned down.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade shouted at the detective, yanking him out of his revere, "We heard there were gunshots fired over here! What in Hell's name happened?"

"I've solved the case, as always," he said in a bored voice to the detective inspector. Lestrade looked shocked. He was at a loss for words. "Wh-What?" he stuttered, half annoyed, half amazed, "W-We've been working on that case for weeks!"

"You're welcome," said Sherlock nonchalantly, "They ran ahead," he said gesturing the direction they went with his hand, "They're going to be cut off down a dead end in an alley if you hurry."

"Thanks Sherlock!" he shouted as he told everyone what had happened and where to go. Sherlock stood there, frozen, a few moments after the police left, then started making his way back to his cozy flat at 221B to tell John about this strange night. (Even if John wasn't there.)

YAY!!! A chapter that nobody will read! I hope you potatoes have a lovely day!! Bye bye!