●●●Time Skip 2 years later●●●
Y/N's POV:
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I was lying down on a beach. The hot sun feeling warm against my bare skin. I had a sundress on with some sunglasses, on a private beach, my vibrant colored, iced vodka next to me
Jim is great. He always brings me here, I love it.
I remember being so worried about something, but he helped me to forget. He took all my worries away. All my pain. I remember having so much pain, and he's helped me so much, I can't even remember why!
I guess it's because I help him a lot with a certain client.
Sherlock Holmes, to be precise.
Jim's obsessed with this man. Sherlock Holmes also thinks I'm dead.
I remember dating him for a bit...I think.
"Darlin' I brought more vodka." I hear Jim's accent flourish my ears.
"Ah, excellent." I smile, my bright red lipstick complementing my lips.
He sits on the beach chair next to me, and I take a sip of my vodka.
"I love the color..." I stare at the bright blue vodka in my glass, gliding it around,
"As do I. It's a premium selection of vodka, quite tropical one too. I thought it would fit the occasion." He smirks.
"Mm...when will I get to try the blood wine?" I ask.
"That beverage is stored for special occasions." He tells me.
"What if I messed around with Sherlock? You always mess around with him, what if I did for once?" I suggest.
He chuckles deeply.
"Devious little devil...I'd love that. Would you do it, for me?" He asks, in an amused tone.
"I'd do it for the wine." I say seductively.
"Deal." He agrees.
---------------------------
"Bye, Jimmy..." I smile, pulling on his McQueen tie so his face is centimeters from my own.
I was about to leave to go to 221b. To mess with Holmes.
A wide grin appears on his face, as his hands find themselves on my waist.
When he leans in, I pull away teasingly, but he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me in roughly for a kiss and our lips crash together.
I wrap my arms around is neck as he pushes me against a wall.
His lips travel along my neck, slowly and teasingly, but then he pulls away.
"Another time, darlin'. Go make me proud." He whispers softly, to which I nod and exit the penthouse.
I smirk and get into the black Jeep, turning the car on and hearing it's purr.
Speeding to Baker Street, I embrace the strong wind that hits my face.
When I arrive, I fix myself, and knock on the door.
As I wait, I wonder why Jim obsesses over him in a sadistic way.
It's quite strange.
When the door opens, it's the curly haired detective who answers.
"Mrs. Hudson isn't in today she's sic--" He stops and freezes, when he notices that I'm not just some random person.
His eyes.
I get lost into his eyes for a bit, but snap out if it.
"Hi, I'm Y/N." I smile.
His face goes pale.
"You're supposed to be dead." He says, in a daze.
"Well, obviously I'm not." I giggle, "May I come in?"