Enigma (sherlockxreader)

Expected Encounter

She rose an eyebrow to the woman in front of her, looking her straight in the eye. The rude woman slighty faltered but stood her ground.

"I'm here to see detective inspector, Greg Lestrade." Her accent was strong as she narrowed her vision on the rude woman.

"What business do you have with him?"

"I believe it's none of your concern. It's a matter of privy business. I don't expect a woman to butt in, especially if the case isn't their problem. Now, do you want to be involved or not?"

The rude woman gaped like a dying fish. She brushed pass her, making her way to the office. Stupid humans. It gave her more reason to despise the human kind.

She heard the woman whisper, Bitch!
All she could do was laugh. Revenge will take a bit long to plan. Instead, she let the karma ball roll on fate.

You'll get your turn, next time. She mouthed, ignoring the glare she was receiving from the rude woman. She proceeded to the detective inspector's office.

Without thinking, she swiftly opened the door, revealing a man sipping on his mug. The room was filled with the scent of coffee and donuts.

The man paid her no mind, he was too busy on his desktop. Reading something that seemed interesting. She gently closed the door and sat silently.

Oh, look at his face... He must be a hardworking fellow. Wrinkles on forehead and corners of the eyes, dark eyebags, sleepy... indication of stress. Sherlock must be constantly abusing his kindness, and loyalty.

A lot of things flashed across her mind, including scenes where Sherlock could've made the decent man sound stupid. Poor guy.

The man suddenly looked up. He must've heard her pitying him. But he was startled by her presence, which means he didn't know she was here.

"H-hi. Uh, how may I help you?" He was stuttering. (Firstname) smiled.

"You must be wondering, how I got in here."

"Well, yeah." He nodded while blinking, still surprised at the attractive woman in front of him. She chuckled in response. The man's expression was very amusing.

"You were busy, staring at your screen that you didn't notice me. But it's okay..." Her words reassured him. "Oh, and by the way, I'm the assistant you requested for."

It took a while before he could comprehend the whole sentence. His eyes widened in realization. He was staring at her as if she insulted him.

"What's wrong, sir? You don't want me to be your assistant? It's alright, I'll go back and tell them tha-"

"No, it's fine. I just expected you to be guy."

"I'm sorry, sir. But it appears that you are disappointed." She laughed.

He joined her laughter. "I told you, it's okay. And don't address me as 'sir', Greg is fine."

"Okay then, Greg."

"That's better. Now, the fi-" he was cut off by his office door. The rude woman appeared.

"Freak's here." Her voice was monotonic.

Sherlock walked into the room, a short man followed after him. He didn't seem to notice her, but the short man with sandy blonde hair did.

"Greg, who's this? Is she your-"

"She's my assistant. Uh.. Would you mind introducing yourself?" Greg looked at her.

"Hi. (Firstname) Stanford. Mr. Lestrade's assistant." She stood up and shook the short man's hand.

Sherlock recognized the familiar voice. His brows furrowed while his eyes question her existence in the room.

"John Watson." He shook back.

"Strong grip, eh? You must be a soldier." She tilted her head. "Ah, yes! The companion of Sherlock Holmes! The doctor that writes on a blog!"

"I, uh, yes.. Yes.." He can't think of anything to say, too stunned at the woman.

"Nice meeting you, Dr.Watson." a ghost smile passed her lips.

"(Firstname)? You're Lestrade's assistant?" Sherlock asked immediately after hearing his name.

"I've been hired five minutes ago... And yes, I am Mr. Lestrade's new assistant."

"(Firstname), I told you to call me Greg." Greg reminded.

"Uh, yes. Sorry Greg!" She offered him a guilty look.

"Why are you calling him Greg? I thought his name was Lestrade?" Sherlock's brows were still furrowed, as if he was trying to connect them.

John was going to answer but (Firstname) beats him to it. "Oh, Sherlock... His name firstname is Greg, you know?"

"Really? Are you su-"

"Wait, you two know each other?" John was looking back and forth from Sherlock to (Firstname).

"I met her on a train ride. When you were... away with Mary." The detective cleared his throat. "She sparked up a short conversation."

The tension in the air was subtle, yet the all felt it. John rocked on his heel while Greg kept glancing between his assistant and the detective.

"So..." Greg broke the awkward silence. "The case..."

"Oh yes, the case." Sherlock repeated flatly.

"This case is taking too much time to investigate. A woman was murdered in an abandoned construction site. Her insides were gutted out and her eyes were missing from their sockets. She was hard to recognize because her face was skinned and the flesh was hanging by a thin strip of muscle. This is very gruesome." Greg cringed.

"What are the other things you found? I hope Anderson did his job well, this time."

"There was her I.D inside her wallet, her phone, and... Oh!" He opened his drawer and handed something to Sherlock . "A tarot card."

"A tarot card?" (Firstname) stared at the card in the detective's hand.

"The devil." Sherlock muttered. "We're being played. The killer left a clue, which means we need to chase after him."

"But why would he use a tarot card as clue? That a bit unusual..." John sounded curious.

"Yes, it is John." Sherlock replied. "The killer undoubtedly have knowledge of things about superstitions and things related to it. And he must've used this card as a secret message, but what?"

"(Firstname), your first assignment is to accompany Sherlock in investigating this matter. I'm busy with a lot of stuff here, anything you find is to be reported. Understood?" Greg said to his assistant.

"But si- I mean Greg, I am to help you around here, that's why I'm your assistant, remember?" Her tone implied that she was disappointed.

The truth is, (Firstname) was jumping with joy. It would be too obvious that she has an interest in the detective. My plan is going well, a bit too well....

"As much as I want to keep you around to make my job easier, none of the people here work with Sherlock. They can't handle him with patience like John, which is why you are my last resort." Greg sighed.

"I'll do my best." She nodded.

She glanced at Sherlock who was staring at her with caution. John looked relieved to have someone sane to talk to.

The detective signaled for them to leave, then headed to the doorway. John trailed after him. She was about to exit when Greg called her.

"Try not to punch him hard." She smiled at him.

"Yes, sir."