Doctor Strange Oneshots

Detectives and Sorcerers (GN Reader)

AN: just to make this clear Sherlock and you are just besties you dont romantically love each other

"Sherlock!" Your shrill voice rang through 221B.

Walking out of the kitchen and into the living room of the flat, you saw the man you were looking for laying on the couch staring at the ceiling.

"Damn mind palace," you mumbled, picking up a book from the floor and throwing it at his chest.

"Y/N," Sherlock hissed out, however, you weren't fazed having known the consulting detective for years, "I was in my mind palace."

"Yes well Lestrade has a case, John is meeting us at the Yard once his shift ends," walking away as Sherlock jumped up from the couch shouting about how it was Christmas.

Grabbing John's cane from his room, you met Sherlock at the door, stealing the blue scarf as he watched with a smile while putting his coat on.

-----

The cab ride was mostly silent, you were busy thinking about the best approach to inspect the body as Sherlock was doing Lord knows what.

"I want you to run forensics on this one," Sherlock flatly told you as you were a few minutes away from the yard.

"Sherlock," you sighed, your hand meeting your forehead, "you know I can't just do that, it's up to Lestrade. He might assign Anderson to it, he's the one working right now."

The rest of the ride was silent as Sherlock pouted and then began to get anxious waiting for the case, you could read him better than anyone else could, even Mycroft Holmes himself.

As the cab pulled up, Sherlock placed his hand right on the door before looking back at you. "Go," you sighed, "I'll pay the cab, go get the details."

Sherlock practically ran out of the cab, rushing past John who was waiting at the entrance of the building, leaving him shocked, and then turning to you with a shrug.

Laughing you faced the cab driver, not bothering to look at his face since you hadn't the whole ride. "How much is it?"

"Nothing for you dearest sibling," a familiar voice with an Irish accent rang out throughout the cab.

"James," sneering at your brother as he began to drive off, leaving a confused John, who had been waiting for you, behind.

-----

"Why did you bring me here James?" Growling as your brother pushed you through the doors of the warehouse.

"Well. You know our dear friend Sherlock?" Begrudgingly you nodded yes. "Well dearest sibling, I've been wanting to kill you for the longest time, ever since I killed mummy and daddy, but I was too pathetic to do it. "

Fear started to the course over your body, he was going to kill you. Your own flesh and blood.

"You're going to kill me?" Tears started to fill your eyes as the thought of not getting to say goodbye to your friends hit you.

"Yes." James smiled at you, it used to always creep you out when he did and it still sent shivers down your spine. "Your death would break him, and I want to break him."

So he was. Maybe you could bargain with him. "Can I please just have one phone call? I know there is still some love for me, so please as your sibling just let me have this one last thing." Begging him as tears streamed down your face, you weren't ready to die, you were still young.

"I suppose I could allow it," James handed you a phone as your shakey hands typed in the one number you wanted to call.

The other end picked up. "Speak," the rough baritone voice told you.