Sherlock Imagines

The Case (Mycroftxreader)

Aye, aye, aye. So much Sherlock, need to distance myself for a bit. I'm going to *try* a Mycroft, then I'm going to do my Moriart-BÆ, *try* another Lestrade, maybe *try* an Irene, back to Moriart-bæ, and see where we go from there. Sound good? Good. BTW This is from littleredridingwolf1 's imagines base collection, so go check it out!

"I need help, Brother Mine!" Sherlock pushed, "I need an assistant!" Mycroft was getting quite annoyed. He needed Sherlock to work a case, but John was on his honeymoon, somewhere Sherlock wasn't allowed to even try an deduce, because he didn't want to be bothered. You opened Mycroft's door timidly, and cleared your throat to get their attention. Mycroft noticing brightened up, and Sherlock took note of it. After you shut the door, you dropped the shy persona, leaning haphazardly against the door frame, and allowing yourself to have your care-free approach.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Mycroft, but it'd seem I'm out of stuff to do. I'm bored." He simply rolled his eyes to you, beginning to examine some files, but coming up dry.
"And what exactly is it that you do here at MI6, Ms..?" Sherlock inquired, unable to deduce any information from you. The only things he could tell was that you were 1- great at hiding who you were, but not in a 'spy' manner, more of a victim manner, and 2- you had clear feelings for Mycroft.
"I'm like a planner, if you will. It's Ms. L/n, thanks, Sherlock." Sherlock studied you carefully.
"Can't deduce me, can you? Sorry, not even your brother can do that." You challenged, and Sherlock made a mental note of the small smile that graced Mycroft's lips when you spoke.
"Sorry, Dearest, but I'm afraid there aren't any case files left to go through. Head home, perhaps?" You internally groaned.
"Or she could assist me on the Moriarty case?" You looked to him, smiling at his offer. You drew up all the information you had on Moriarty, and knew it'd be a fun challenge. Mycroft gave his brother a threatening look.
"I'd love to." The elder Holmes snapped a look of shock to you.
"Splendid, shall we?" Sherlock motioned to the door, "Oh, and do remember, you're assisting." You nodded.
"That's my job, isn't it?" You followed the younger Holmes out, and Mycroft sat, dumbfounded. You left to work a case with his younger brother. To chase Moriarty, only the most dangerous criminal mastermind the world has ever seen! He pulled up video footage of you and Sherlock talking, watching as you followed him around, putting your input in here and there. He knew Moriarty would notice the new 'John' and would be thoroughly prepared to deal with you. Mycroft's heart sped, and adrenaline pumped as you and his little brother entered the building in which you'd find Moriarty. He couldn't see anymore. No cameras led into that abandoned warehouse, he circled through the cameras surrounding the building, occasionally catching a glimpse of your swift-moving figure. Relief swimming momentarily over for every second he could confirm you were alive. He couldn't do this anymore. He clicked the intercom button to his assistant, who came immediately.
"Yes, sir?" She asked as timidly as you had pretended to be when you first entered the room.
"Call Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade at Scotland Yard, tell him to go to 771 Motland Drive. Be sure to send an ambulance and a SWAT unit, Moriarty is in there. Be careful, my brother and a close friend are, too." He grabbed his coat, and stood to head out.
"And call my car, while you're at it." She nodded, and left to immediately contact each person and tell them. She called the DI, explaining everything, and telling him to contact the other two units he'd need. Not a moment later, she called Mycroft's car, and it only took a second for it to pull up. He repeated the address, and immediately entered the building. His umbrella tapping a beat into the cement, confident in knowing a SWAT unit would be here shortly, as he started listening in on their conversation, worry building a home on his heart for the lovely woman he had spent most of his days with.
"Well, Sherlock, seems you replaced Johnny-Boy with this lovely woman. Why, might I ask, is that?" Moriarty sung, and Mycroft had the inkling feeling he wanted to stab the criminal with his umbrella.
"I'm not replacing Watson, simply filling in." She retorted, and Mycroft waited for his brother's response.
"John is being dull. He went on a 'honeymoon' with Mrs. Watson." Mycroft was careful on each step, willing them not to creak.
"Oh dear me, I do prefer Watson over her, more attachment to Watson, eh Sherlock?" Sherlock simply hummed, and the distinct clicking of a gun rang in Mycroft's ears. Who was the gun aimed at, and by who was it held?
"Precisely. What do you want, Moriarty?" He forced himself to remain calm, but he was scared. It was clear to Sherlock how Mycroft felt about the woman with h/c that spun around as she moved, the glistening of her e/c eyes melted Mycroft's iceman exterior. He opened up, and freely expressed himself in more areas than before, but he'd never admit how he felt, out loud at least. Though, it was pretty clear. Sherlock feared that his brother would sink back into previous ways, harder than before.
"So, how's the ice-man doing?" Both Sherlock and Moriarty noticed how you tensed at the reference to Mycroft, like you were ready to tear Moriarty a new one.
"He's fine." Sherlock snapped, hoping Moriarty hadn't connected the dots.
"Oh, I'd say he's more than fine, do tell me, dear, what do you do exactly for ol'ice-man?"
All his attention had to be on you, another thing that made Mycroft bubble with anger and hatred, with the want to repeatedly smack him with the rainy-day object. He continued up the stairs.
"She's a consulting-spy, as I put it." More attention Moriarty gave you, more he was likely to kill you.
"Ah, so Mycroft shares that spark. How sweet. Two lovebirds in an office, wonder where that story leads." Moriarty gave his sick laugh.
"What. Do. You. Want." Sherlock's tone was denser than diamonds, but dark as coal.
"I want to warn you, Sherlock. 'There's an east-wind coming!'" He mocked Mycroft's words, just to tell him that he'd listened in to his last vows.
"And I'm coming for you." This time his voice was sick, and mean. Mycroft heard the SWAT unit enter, and decided it was time to make himself known.
"Ever so sorry to disappoint, Mr. Moriarty, but I am afraid you won't have the time." He stood in the doorway, casually leaning on his umbrella, as Moriarty stared at him with a ghastly glare. It didn't take long for Moriarty to begin running to escape the Swat units that deployed from where Mycroft was.
"Thanks, Myc." You said, letting go of a breath you'd knowingly been holding.
"Of course. I worry, you know."