Sherlock Imagines and Preferences 2

The Last Day

Thank you for 35K reads! Here, have a oneshot!

This chapter is just me having some fun while writing something that randomly popped into my head. It's odd, but I uploaded it nonetheless.

I hope you like it ;)

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''Hurry up, (Y/N). We don't have all day,'' Sherlock sneered as he speed-walked towards the yellow tape indicating the crime scene. 

You rolled your eyes and huffed, running the last bit to keep up with the detective's fast pace and long legs. ''It wouldn't hurt to be nice once in a while, Sherlock,'' you scolded. ''I could easily go back to the flat and leave you by yourself.'' 

He looked at you from the corner of his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. ''You could. But you won't.'' 

You scoffed. ''Really? I won't? How did you make that deduction, Mr Almighty Detective?'' 

He chuckled quietly and focussed his eyes on the dead body a little further down the road. ''You enjoy the adrenaline you feel when you're with me. Every case has something you can't predict, and you're attracted to that. You won't leave because you enjoy the thrill of the chase just as much as I do.'' He briefly glanced your way and winked before stepping closer to the victim and examining him. 

You stayed back as you felt a hot blush coat your cheeks. He wasn't wrong. Of course, he wasn't. But still, it felt odd having him point it out like that. You always hoped he wouldn't notice that secret yearning you felt for adventure. 

Though, this was Sherlock Holmes, and when one was with him, a thing such as keeping secrets didn't exist. It was the price you paid for the titillation that was the consulting detective. 

You cleared your throat and slowly approached the body, opting to stay silent this time around. You let Sherlock ramble as he fired deduction after deduction Lestrade's way. The poor man could hardly keep up, but obviously, Sherlock didn't notice or care. 

You were pulled out of your thinking when the curly haired sociopath suddenly gasped. Your head snapped up into his direction, your worried eyes scanning his astonished expression. ''What? What did you deduce?'' 

''Forget everything I just said,'' he murmured. 

Lestrade audibly sighed and ripped a page out of his notebook. He readied his pen for a new chain of deductions, but none came. 

Sherlock slowly stood up and looked around, muttering to himself. 

''Sherlock, you alright?'' you wondered, following his slow movements with your eyes. 

''Yes, yes, totally fine,'' he said absently. 

The wheels in his brain were turning and you could hear their every squeak and chirr. You had no idea what went on in his head and now more than ever, you were desperate to find out. ''Sherlock, could you please enlighten us? It would be greatly appreciated. I can't read minds, you know.'' 

He waved his hand in front of your face, shushing you. ''Your whining is interrupting my thoughts.'' 

''Excuse me?'' you called out, feeling slightly hurt by his words. 

''(Y/N), just stop talking,'' Lestrade interrupted. 

''Yes, thank you, Gary.'' 

The DI sighed. ''Greg.'' 

''It's Sherlock, idiot,'' the detective sneered. ''Gosh, you sound like Anderson. Fire him before he eats the remainder of your brain cells.'' 

''Alright, enough!'' Greg yelled. ''I've had enough of your ridiculing behaviour, Sherlock. You're obviously onto something, so stop trying to distract us and tell us what on Earth is going on in that stuck up head of yours!''