A Scandal in Belgravia [Reader Insert]

SHERlocked

(some shameless self-promoting): [(even tho there's basically just the one person I know actually reads this consistently) (thank you by the way) (I feel really weird but you being here helps my self-esteem a lot)] Started LokixReader thing. It is written in 1st person present test, so that's new...? *shrugs* Read it if you want. If not, read this. Because... reading. #readingisdope

     Mycroft and you sat on one side of the table, Irene and Sherlock on the other, and all four people were staring at the same thing: Irene's phone, so dangerous yet so fragile, set at the middle of the table.

      "We have people who can get into this," Mycroft said, though clearly unconfident. 

     "I tested that theory for you. I let Sherlock Holmes and (Y/N) (L/N) try it for six months," Irene replied smoothly. 

     While you glared at Irene with intensity, Sherlock lowered his gaze and stared at the table. You knew this was his fault.

      And so did he.

     "Sherlock, dear, tell Mycroft what you found when you x-rayed my camera phone."

     Sherlock winced. His voice heavy with defeat, he answered, "There are four additional units wired into the casing- I suspect, either containing acid or a small amount of explosive... Any attempt to open the casing will burn the hard drive."

     "Explosive," Irene clarified. "It's more me."

     "Some data is always recoverable," Mycroft argued, although the hopelessness in his voice betrayed his bluff.

      "Go ahead, take that risk, Mr. Holmes."

      Mycroft clenched his jaw."You have a passcode to open this. I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract if from you."

     Irene rolled her eyes. "Sherlock?" She sounded bored, as if this were nothing more than useless banter.

      "Two passcodes," Sherlock muttered. "One to open the phone, one to burn the drive. Even under duress, you can't know which one she's given you. There'd be no point in a second attempt."

     Irene smirked. "He's good, isn't he? I should have him on a leash. In face, I might..." She turned to inspect Sherlock hungrily. 

     You stiffened in your seat and sat forward. "Irene."

     Irene looked up at you with the slightest hint of surprise, but then her expression shifted into a knowing smile. 

      "Protective, are we? Let's get back on track." She reached under the table and pulled up her handbag, setting it down on the table with a dull thump. "A list of my requests," she said, taking an envelope from it and pushing it across the table to Mycroft. "And some ideas about my protection once they're granted. I'd say it wouldn't blow much of a hole in the wealth of the nation- but then I'd be lying. Would you like to sleep on it?"

      Mycroft didn't answer for a second, apparently quite daunted by the demands. You leaned over to see what was written and found yourself wearing a similar expression.

     "Thank you, yes," Mycroft said, still reading.

     "Too bad." Irene smiled and stood up, picking up her phone as she did so. "Well, this has been fun. Can't take all the credit, though. I had a bit of help." She winked at you. "Jim Moriarty sends his love." 

      Savoring the resultant looks of shock, Irene circled the table slowly. "Thank God for the consultant criminal. Gave me a lot of advice on how to play the Holmes boys and their precious Baker Street Babe. Do you know what he calls you three?" She looked across to Mycroft... "The Ice Man." To Sherlock... "The Virgin." And to you. "And he's given you two titles: The Tin Woman; and the Virgin's Reprieve." Irene tilted her head like a predator amused with its prey and leaned in toward you slightly. Her voice softer now, she said, "Oh yes, even he ships it. Adorable, isn't it? And the only ones that seem unaware of the connection just happen to be the very two detectives that are under love's spell."

      Love.

       Love?

     You closed your eyes and found yourself laughing; first quiet but gradually more earnest as your realization grew. Of course, love. It seemed so simple now. All your suffering the hours before seemed pointless.

      You got to your feet and grinned at Irene with newfound confidence. She herself seemed shocked, almost terrified, of your unexpected exultance. 

      "What?" she asked fearfully, eyes alight with anticipation for the worst. "What?"

      You only laughed again and shook your head.

      "(Y/N)!"  Sherlock and Mycroft both shouted at once. They seemed just as confused as Irene.

     "You were so close, Irene," you chuckled. "So close."

      Her eyes widened. 

      "You made one mistake," you went on. "Love. Sentiment. A chemical defect found on the losing side. The chemistry of such emotions are painfully simple to me; the destructive-"

      "Wait, you didn't actually think I was interested in him? Why?" Irene asked, clearly trying to salvage her upper hand. A desperate and, quite frankly, pitiful attempt. One that you saw right through, and yet she continued. "Because he's the great Sherlock Holmes, your clever detective in a funny hat?"

      "No," you answered calmly, before she could continue her recovery attempt. You took a step closer to Irene and said, more softly, "Because I saw your eyes. Dilated. Breathing quickened. And I'm willing to bet that if I had taken your pulse, I would have found it elevated."

      Irene stumbled back a few steps. "No. I was just playing the game."

      You gently took the phone from her hands, an almost sympathetic tone settling in your gaze. "I know," you said, entering the four letters you knew Irene must be dreading so much at this moment. "And this is just losing."

      You lifted the phone so that the other three could see the screen. The code screen read,

      I AM

     S H E R

     LOCKED

     Irene choked out a strangled gasp. You tossed the phone to Mycroft calmly. "I hope the contents on that phone will make up for any trouble Sherlock has caused." You added a stern look in Sherlock's direction when you said his name, but his face seemed to be stuck in a permanent expression of shock. Whether he saw you or not, you couldn't know, for his body would not betray any acknowledgement on his part.

       "I'm certain it will," Mycroft replied nearly breathlessly, clearly relieved.

     You nodded briskly at him and turned your attention back yo Irene, who had soft, crystalline tears gathering in her eyes. "Sherlocked indeed, Ms. Adler," you said. "A fatal mistake."

    "Please. I won't last a month without my protection."

      "No, no you won't," you murmured, feigning sympathy. But then you took in a sharp breath and smiled. "Well, better make it worth your time."