Random Fandom Imagines 2

Sherlock Holmes

This kind of alternates between present Sherlock and Victorian Sherlock. 

Italics= Victorian Sherlock

You stood on the tarmac alongside John, Mary, and Mycroft watching Sherlock's plane land again. The emotions in the past ten minutes had been surreal. First the love of your life, even though it might not be two-sided, boarded a plane, never to return again, and now you were watching Sherlock Holmes return to the thrill of the chase. As the plane wheels touched the ground, Mycroft had already charged towards the plane, secretly pleased his younger brother wouldbe returning to 221B Baker Street.

The plane door opened and your trio bounded up the steps to see Sherlock sweating profusely in his plane seat as he slowly opened his eyes. "Sherlock," John whispered running to his side, checking his pulse instantly. "Is he high?"

Mycroft released a tired sigh. "He was high before he even got on the plane."

"Sherlock?" you called, standing beside John. He hadn't even fully returned and now you were going to lose him for the second time that day. "What did you take Sherlock?" you demanded.

"Did you leave a list?" Mycroft asked calmly, hiding his inner nuclear meltdown.

Everyone stared at Sherlock, waiting for some sort of response. "I had almost solved it, Y/N," Sherlock finally spoke. "I almost figured out how Emelia Ricoletti survived."

"What on Earth are you talking about? How much did you take Sherlock?" John probed.

"Your mind palace has limits Sherlock," Mycroft antagonized.

John snapped around to Mycroft. "No, I've seen him do it Mycroft. He can just disappear into it in an instant."

As John backed away momentarily, you kneeled down by Sherlock, taking his hand in yours. "What did you see Sherlock? How did Moriarty did it?"

"My dear Y/N, always ready to dive back into chase," Sherlock commented before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Sherlock paced around the mausoleum, having finally tracked down the mysterious bride with John as his fateful companion fixed to his side. Their eyes gazed onto the caped group before them, listening carefully to Sherlock's explanation.

"So this is it then? These are the culprits?"

"Oh no, John. These are the women, the women left behind, the women forgotten," Sherlock told John before a ghostly apparition floated by out of the corner of his eye. He cocked his head to gawk at the figure. "There's just one more mystery to solve..."

Sherlock chased after, yet another, bride before she stopped suddenly, bouquet in hand. "Sherlock," she called. "I won't wait forever."

"Of course," Sherlock realized. "The bride, the final bride. The one I've underestimated all along," he said before reaching out to grab your hand as you spun around to see your face.

"Hello sweetie," you cooed. "You wouldn't forget about our wedding day, now would you?"

"Sherlock? Sherlock?" John called, pulling Sherlock out of his drug-induced haze. "Sherlock?"

Sherlock's eyes snapped out at the sound of John's calling. "Y/N?" he responded.

"Yes?" you said, by his side in a moment.

"I know how Moriarty survived, but I also know something else," he said before taking your face in his heads, pulling your lips to his