BBC Sherlock Imagines (Book 2)

Sherlock: Irene Who?

Request for @josiemay

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"Sherloooock," you whined, "please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Why do people say 'pretty please'? Is the 'pretty' supposed to make it more appealing?" he asked. You groaned and laid your head back down on the couch. Your legs were in his lap and he absentmindedly traced his fingers up and down them. You grabbed your book, which you had thrown down on the ground, and pretended to start reading.

Earlier you really had been reading, until you realized that Sherlock was faintly singing to himself. You couldn't identify the song, but you had heard the smooth tones of his voice and wondered how, in all the time you had known him, you had never heard his angelic voice sing. Naturally, you interrupted and told him to sing louder. Upon realizing you had caught him singing, his face turned bright red and he zipped his mouth shut, refusing to sing no matter how many pretty pleases you threw at him.

A knock sounded from the door of the flat. You waited a couple seconds, but Sherlock made no move to answer it. "Aren't you going to get that?" you asked. He didn't answer. His eyes were closed, and you knew he was probably in his mind palace. "Oh sure, I'll get it honey," you muttered to yourself sarcastically.

You opened the door and was surprised to find a woman with jet black hair and bright red lipstick, dressed in a short black dress and matching stilettos standing outside. "Where is Mr. Holmes," she purred, trying to see inside behind you and not bothering to introduce herself or ask who you were.

"He's-"

"Right here." You turned around, surprised to find Sherlock standing there and looking at the woman with a curious gaze, too curious for your liking.

"Mr. Holmes," purred the woman again, her eyes twinkling at the sight of him.

"You're supposed to be dead," answered Sherlock with a knowing smirk.

"So are you," she replied, and you were suddenly angry that she would bring up such a sore topic.

"I'm supposed to be alive, and oh look, I am," you cut in, trying to block the look they were giving each other. "I'm (y/f/n) (y/l/n) and Sherlock Holmes is dating me," you smiled right at Irene, trying to kill her with kindness. The woman darted her icy blue eyes at you and you felt your body freeze.

"So he finally gave into weak sentiment I see," she said, glancing smugly at Sherlock, then back at you. "Well I'm Irene Adler and I need Sherlock Holmes to save me," she replied smoothly, accentuating the last word like you had.

"Like I haven't heard that before," chuckled Sherlock as he moved in front of you to make room in the doorway for Irene to come in. You glared angrily at the back of his head and flicked him. He turned around and looked at you confused, unaware that he had earned that as a result of his flirting. As he was closing the door though, another person burst through it. You moved to the side and saw John, staring open jawed at Irene.

"Oh god not again," he mumbled angrily. "At least she's clothed this time," you heard him say to himself before he walked right back out the door. You grabbed Sherlock by the arm and dragged him down to your eye level, your temper on fire.