Sherlock Imagines

When the Past Comes Knocking (Sherlock vs Moriarty, Xreader)

Request; JimxReaderxSherlock
Requested by; @_I_O_U__J_M
Level; 4/5. I liked the idea better than actually writing it, mainly because it was a lot of pieces to pull together and it got really tedious... Oopsies.
Also; I'm doing a contest this V-day! I've hidden a hecka ton of references all throughout these updates! PM me with as many as you can find!
Longer time ago is underlined
Not so long ago is isn't
Nickname; (King/Queen) choose (1/2)

~Flash Back Sequence Start~
You carefully lined up the shot, knowing you couldn't miss. If you did, it'd be your funeral. Then again, you always had put the 'fun' into it.  You didn't hesitate to take the shot, sending the projectile crashing past that man's skull... You were expecting the sudden police involvement, even the grid search. However, you weren't expecting someone pulling both your arms behind you to turn you to face a man about your age with slicked back black hair.
"Well now. So you're the assassin planning on targeting me!" The way he said it insisted his amusement, and his malicious grin was both terrifying and sexy. His eyes foreshadowed the darkness you'd soon be feeling. At least, that's what would have happened...
"Darling, I'm going to give you a choice..." And with that one decision; Your life changed forever.

After he... After he left, you couldn't do it anymore. Killing people seemed so pointless, and you couldn't do both your job and Jim's. The empire wasn't something you could keep afloat on your own. So, you left. Not only that, you took all your knowledge of death and destruction, and put it to good use... By joining Scotland Yard. It was your first actual case when you met the grandeur detective. You didn't blame Sherlock Holmes, Jim had always been one to prefer causing the most hell possible. Even if that meant he wasn't among the living anymore. So, no, you didn't blame the lanky detective. Not in the least bit. Didn't mean you liked him, though. Your first case was a simple murder, and you noticed many things right off the bat. Like this was obviously no accident, it was a well thought-out, meticulous and brutal homicide.
"Man tripped, broke his cranium, end of story." Anderson concluded, not wanting Sherlock to be called in. Too late, he was already on his way. You groaned at his stupidity, it swirling and dancing high into the air as he looked at you with contempt.
"What? You think you're so clever, you tell us what happened!" He argued, getting much too close, to the point where you could see his every mousy feature, could feel the idiocy sprouting from his every pore. It sickened you.
"For one, this was obviously murder. The angle on which his skull was crushed, for one, would've needed a better velocity than that with the sidewalk, and two, it's on the wrong side of his head-" You were cut off by a sonorous voice that echoed behind you, and when you turned to it, you saw the man Jim had become so obsessed with's destruction.
"They're right." He held his hand out to you, curious about the new detective at Scotland Yard. The one who wasn't an idiot, who he dared say may just be an intellectual.
"Sherlock Holmes." He had the same tone Jim had told you about. The one that screamed 'pompous dick'.
"And I'm the person who didn't ask." You shot him a sarcastic smile, and the look of startled surprise on his face was worth the looks you were getting from your superiors. The pleased look from his little sidekick was your favorite, though.
"Finally! Someone put him in his place!" John chuckled as you stalked off. Little did you know how close you'd come to the deducing duo.

You stood guard, watching carefully as the deal went down. Sebastian was on the opposite side, doing the same. You were wondering since when Jim trusted you to be his personal guard, and why the hell it made your heart flutter. R was absolutely pathetic. Jim, on the other hand, was just hoping what he thought would happen, wouldn't. He needed the extra support, i.e. you, but if anything went wrong, and you got hurt... He didn't understand why he felt like his insides were tangling in themselves, like they were torturing him at the very consideration of your own pain. When the people started shooting, confirming his suspicions, he didn't know. What he did notice, was you pushing him out of the way of a bullet, sending three of your own flying into the three men left. When he finally scrambled up to figure out what just happened, the first thing he noticed was how your black muscle tank was matte with your own blood.
"Y/N! Christ!" He was diving next to you in an instant, every flinching move you made out of sheer agony digging its way into his, what he thought to be nonexistent, heart. Soon Sebastian had joined him, and lifted you off the ground, rushing to get you to the safety of the car, Jim on his heels, worried endlessly for your life...