His Great Game (Sherlock x Reader)

Chapter 35: The Beginning of the End

100K 100K 100K I. Am. SCREAMING! Thank you all so much for your love and encouragement that has brought this book to where it is today. I am back from yet another hiatus, but this time I have the rest of the entire book planned out. Put on your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy, emotional ride from here on out.

Also you should honestly reallyyy re-read the last chapter since it's a direct continuation of the last scene. Just to remember what's going on. Enjoy!

(Your POV)

"As much as I return and appreciate your affections, (Y/n), I promise that your concerns are unwarranted. We'll be fine."

I fixed Sherlock with a wary look, even though he couldn't see it with his eyes shut. "Okay..." I said softly, leaning back into the sofa. There was a moment of silence.

John cleared his throat. "Erm, well, I'm going to take a quick shower, and then maybe we can all get lunch?"

I gave him a small smile as he stood and stretched. "Sure, John." He nodded and sauntered off upstairs.

Sherlock hummed. "Can't, I'm in the middle of a case."

I rolled my eyes and stood up, making my way over to stand by his chair. "You'll be done by lunch, love." Absentmindedly, I gently twisted one of his silky curls around my finger.

He opened one bright eye and smiled. "Not if you keep distracting me." He warned with a playful edge.

I smiled and leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on his lips which he happily returned. "Then I guess I'd better get going."

"Or..." he winked and wiggled a suggestive eyebrow at me, insinuating that we do something entirely different together.

I gasped. "Sherlock Holmes!" I giggled, smacking him on the shoulder. "Now is not the time, get to solving your case." I sauntered off to the kitchen, still chuckling despite myself.

"Wha-? That's not at all what I was saying!" He cried out with fake indignation. "I was merely suggesting that you help me solve this case." I arched an eyebrow at that. Yeah, right. He managed to maintain a relatively innocent look on his face, still trying to sell his story.

I shook my head and poured myself a cup of tea from the kettle on the stove. "Uh-huh, yes, I'm sure that is exactly what you were implying."

He shrugged, a trace of a smile still visible on his face. "There's no proof that that's what I meant." He picked up a few police reports and crossed his legs nonchalantly. "Just saying."

I furrowed my brows in mock thought and drifted over towards him. "And... there's no proof that I'm not actually a Brazilian model named Esteban Julio Ricardo Montoya De La Rosa Ramirez." He fixed me with a blank look and I took a tiny sip of my tea, eyeing him innocently all the while. "Just saying."

He let out a long, exasperated breath and I laughed quietly, plopping down in John's chair across from him. "(Y/n), you are one strange woman."

"Yeahhh, but you love it."

He glanced up from his work, a smirk gracing his features. "That I do." He leaned forward and held out a few papers. "Care to take a look?"

"Oo, don't mind if I do." I set my teacup on the side table and quickly swiped the papers from Sherlock, eager to take a look. I glanced over the information quickly. "Henry Fishgard..."