Sherlock Imagines

[The Storyteller Part IIII] (MoriartyxReader)

Ah, Saturday. Once Ravyn and Alex were asleep, that meant Mummy-Daddy time, which, due to the pregnancy, mostly consisted of fighting over baby names and which crib would be best. Had to be your favourite day of the week, by far.
At least, after 8 o'clock. Sadly, that magical time had yet to hit, and twins were never boring.
"Dadddyyyyy!" Ravyn groaned, tugging on her father's suit as he attempted to set up a business meeting. He grimaced, finally acknowledging her.
"Ravyn, my Princess, I need to work. Pretty please, with all the sweets you could ever want on top, give me just 15 minutes?" A desperate plea from a desperate man, truly. The small smile that twisted to her lips, identical to your victorious smirk, told Jim that he was going to lose this battle.
"On one condition." She held up her pointer finger, as if to confirm that she'd said "one" and not any other number. Two fingers rubbed itty bitty circles into his temple.
"I'm listening..?" The words that flew from her lips took him by surprise, and his dread completely lifted.
"Tell me the story of how you and Mummy met?"
Now that was something he could do.

Primary school. Not one of the best times in the world for a boy like James, but at least he got to showcase his intelligence and creative talent... even if it did get him picked on, sometimes. Year four could be difficult, after all.
No one ever really caught his attention in his class, maybe because no one ever wished to stand out, or maybe because they were all so normal and ordinary that he didn't care to cipher through them. No, he just cared about one person: James.
"And as Mary watched, her stomach twisting into the most foul of knots and tears streaming down her face at the loss of her only son, the Hungry Donkey went back to his hay. The end." He didn't seem to notice all the sickened stares, nor the disturbed glances- not until he looked up from his story. Miss Valintine was horrified, along with most of the rest of the class, but she still asked for the same "wishes and stars" she had for everyone else. After seventeen straight wishes, his head had bowed like he was about to cry, and he didn't think he wanted to hear what the little girl in back, with the two h/c pigtails had to say.
"I think that the version of the story you portrayed was very..." You chewed on your thoughts to come up with the right word, "unique, but you had very good word choice, and a good sense of metaphor." She said kindly, and smiled at him as he raised his head a bit to look at her. Kids stared at her with all sorts of concern, but she simply smiled nicely at him. The teacher excused him to go back to his seat, and finally called up the last person- the same little girl.
"I'd like to share a story about the Golden Heart..." For once, he'd soon realized, he was paying attention to another kid's work. And despite not having any baby-eating barn animals, and the entire story sounding like one of those "hero worship" stories, he liked it...
After that year, he didn't see much of her, and never managed to catch her name, no matter how hard he tried. It was actually a few years later when he got to talk to her. In his grade ten class, after she'd made it to the "popular crowd".
Daughter of the highest-solved-case rate, DI L/N, and a criminal prosecutor (with the highest prosecuted rate). High morals, and already planning on how to follow in her dear dad's footsteps. It made James sick- but whenever she passed, she made him sick in a much different way. His stomach would flip, and he'd feel his heart buzz in his chest, pounding being much too slow for the level of heat rising to his cheeks as her e/c eyes caught his as she passed in the crowded hall. She didn't even recognize him- he could tell.
Talking to her was a much different story, because the moment he introduced himself, he got, "You're the boy who wrote about a donkey eating Jesus!" And side-splitting laughter.
"Uh... y-yeah." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.
"I'm sorry, I just- it's not something someone forgets, you know?" He nodded, forcing a smile, and told her not to worry about it. She held out a hand, and beamed at him.
"My name's y/n. Y/n L/n." He took it gingerly, questioning if this was some sort of dream or something.
"J-James Moriarty..."

And then, he ended with the tragic tale of separation (after never have dated), and how he met you again years later after you passed your police exam- not daring to go into detail on how that romance got kindled. But hey- it satiated Ravyn, for the time, and she skipped down the hall to her room.

Meanwhile, Alex was asking the exact same question to you as you relaxed on the sofa. You chuckled, and motioned him up into your lap, telling him your (clean) version of the story.

12 shots and three glasses of wine into the night, celebrating graduating from the academy with your fellow classmates, and a man slipped into the seat beside you.
"Celebrating something, Darlin'?" You looked him over, smirking the slightest bit.
"Just graduated." You said confidently, and his eyebrows rose theatrically.
"Yeah? Seems like a fair reason to celebrate- mind if I buy the next round?" Hot with a sexy accent... no, you definitely didn't mind. Not in the tiniest bit.
Many drinks later, you both were stumbling into a cab to his hotel room, drunkenly kissing.

The next morning, after waking up before him, you took a bit of personal leeway, and searched for aspirin, and perhaps a glass to get some water. Meanwhile, he woke while you were on your hunt, his curiosity taking over as he slipped his hand into your bag, and grabbing your wallet. His brow furrowed at the ID card.
"Y/n L/n..?" It sounded too familiar. With furrowed brow he continued snooping, eventually finding a small certificate in the third fold of our wallet.
"Detective Y/n L/n!?" He hissed as quietly as possible, pieces falling together, "Shite."
Meanwhile, you were looking in a small cabinet for Tylenol or Advil or something. Picking up a bottle, you looked at the label, and nearly dropped it.
"The hell!? Aren't these illegal?" You recognized the small tan pills, and began looking more closely at the others... all blackmarket drugs.
"What the actual crap." You muttered to yourself, knowing you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. After stuffing the bottles back, you hurried- still with a pounding headache- back out, only moments after Jim stuffed your wallet back in your bag.
"Oh- you're up?" You said, panicking inside. Who the hell was this guy? Awkwardly, he nodded.
"Yeah- just now, actually..." He lied, smiling lopsidedly. You nodded, glad for that much.
"Well... this is awkward..." You chuckled half-heartedly, and he genuinely laughed.
"Things like this usually are." 'Especially when you screw your high school crush,' he thought to himself. He had to admit, he should've connected the dots sooner, you hadn't changed a bit.
"So, I'll see you around..?" He pretended not to know your name, just in hopes of confirmation.
"Y/n... and you are...?" He leaned forward, offering you his hand.
"Jim. Jim Moriarty." You accepted his hand, shaking it lightly, pretending not to be fearing for your life.
"Jim." You confirmed, putting on a smile.

After time and time again, always ending in the same position, the two of you just got together, getting married not long after.
"That satisfy your question, Al?" He was half asleep on your lap, your fingers running through his hair.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'."