BBC: Sherlock x Reader

To Be Or Not To Be | Part Two |

It was low lit, a comfortable, intimate atmosphere - she could handle that.

"Sir?" The woman called, and Y/n stopped just before she crashed into the woman's back, she notified Y/n's date that she had arrived and quickly left. Now Y/n was left standing, and her date, oh, well, he was handsome.

He smiled when he saw her, his dark eyes shining with a sort of mischievousness that Y/n decided she liked. His dark hair was combed back neatly, and he stood, reaching her, and she thought he was going to shake her hand as strangers would normally do upon meeting eachother. But he surprised her by leaning down to kiss her cheek lightly, a motion that had sent her heart fluttering in her chest.

"Glad you could make it, Kitten," his voice was deep and smooth, like warm chocolate, oh, and Irish. She liked that, too. "I'm James,"

A half hour later, Y/n hadn't expected this blind date to go so well, hell, she'd go as far as saying it felt almost natural. As though she and James had been friends for ages, he made her laugh, told her about himself. She found out that he traveled a lot, but had settled in England since he was a boy - he was a businessman, or something of that sort, he'd mentioned it, though only briefly.

He was smart, something she realized after a couple moments with him, incredibly so. It was enough to remind her of Sherlock, almost, but she didn't want to let the thought of him spoil her night that was going swimmingly well. So like everything else, she pushed it to the back of her mind and focused on the very handsome Irishman sitting across from her.

They had a beautiful dinner of steak and potatoes and now sat, just enjoying eachother's company over two glasses of wine that Y/n could not name. It was sweet, Y/n had first thought that it wasn't wine, it was so perfectly blended together. She had barely tasted the alcohol, but boy was it there, it left a soothing warmth in her chest, and after just one glass, Y/n found her head had lightened.

"So," Y/n smiled, a little lopsided she realized and reached for the glass of water to keep her head firmly on her shoulders. "How'd you know Emma?"

She was curious, of course, and maybe he'd tell her, he's been open about everything else so far tonight, and because Emma hadn't told exactly how she knew the man in the first place. Except a list of someone knew someone.

"We were friends, long time ago, though," Vague answer, but Y/n accepted it. James smiled, she liked his smile, it didn't seemed forced, just an easy smile of a man who was having a good time. He leaned back into his chair, the dark jacket of his suit long forgotten hung idly on the back of it.

"Oh, I saw you before you came in, too," He smirked, a twinkle of something in his eyes that honestly rubbed Y/n the wrong way. It was a certain kind of darkness in the chocolate brown of his eyes that made them seem like deep pools of... nothingness. Y/n suddenly felt uncomfortable, hand reaching for the wine again instead of picking up the water her other hand was firmly wrapped around.

"Friend of yours? That man you were talking to," He seemed way too interested in that. He watched her, a shadow of a smile on his lips as he did so, that look still in his eyes.

Y/n was tempted to say, well, okay, she had fun, but it's late now and she has work in the morning and high tail it out of there. She no longer felt at ease in his presence, she felt as though she was dangling off a hook over a pool of hungry sharks.

"Y-yeah," she nervously says, and felt a sudden wave of nausea rush through her. Too focused on that to notice the heaviness of her tongue, or the numbness in her fingers. She glanced at the crystalline wine glass in her hand, her brows furrowing as her eyes unfocused.

She's been...drugged, she thinks, her brain was muddled, and it took her a full minute to turn her eyes back to James, who was smiling at her as though nothing was happening. He slowly rose from his seat, something about they way he did it made Y/n's heart pound in her chest painfully. There wasn't that attractive, cool air around him anymore - the air was tense and Y/n felt like a lamb led to slaughter.

"How about," James walked over to her side of the table, his hand brushing her hair away from her neck and he leaned down. His cologne invading her senses and sent another wave of nausea through her. Y/n swore she could've thrown up right then. She had tried protesting, but her tongue was lead, unable to form words besides a pitiful garble of mess.

James chuckled at the sound, his voice in her ear. To anyone, if anyone were paying them mind, which Y/n doubted, it'll look like he was telling her something secret - something important. But she knew what was happening, she shouldn't have agreed to come on this date. Now she was drugged and God alone knows what's going to happen to her.

"We take a little drive to my place, hmm?"