You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

The Six Thatchers: Chapter 1

She glanced nervously at Lady Smallwood and Sir Edwin. "Well, really, I shouldn't..."

"Go on." Sherlock nodded. You shook your head at him, a smile still on your face. He'd been so happy since you'd gotten out of leaving, and now that Moriarty was playing a new game from the grave, he was even more excited.

"Do they still do Mivvis?" Vivian smiled slightly.

"Mr Holmes." Lady Smallwood addressed professionally, she was clearly very done with Sherlock's attitude, but you on the other hand, loved it. Happy Sherlock meant an extra thriving relationship. You were just excited as he was to get back to the game.

"Yes?" Mycroft and Sherlock both answered. Mycroft glared at Sherlock before he looked back to Lady Smallwood.

"We do need to get on." She crossed her hands over one another looking at the eldest Holmes brother sternly.

"Yes, of course." He clicked a button on the remote he was holding and the footage on the screen began playing. Sherlock grabbed his phone from Mycroft waving it in victory before he tucked it into his pocket and sat back down next to you. You gave Sherlock a wink as you placed a hand on his knee, looking back up at the screens.

You watched the footage of the night you'd gotten into Appledore. It showed the helicopters advancing on you, Sherlock, John, and Magnussen. The moment Sherlock would've been raising the gun to shoot Magnussen, a shot rang out and Sherlock immediately dropped John's gun, putting his hands into the air. The footage showed that the shot hadn't come from Sherlock, that was impressive editing work. Mycroft rewinded it, showing it a few more times to prove the point that the footage showed the shot couldn't have come from Sherlock's gun.

"I see. Who is supposed to have shot him, then?" Sherlock asked as he watched the footage on the screen.

"Some over-eager squaddie with an itchy trigger finger, that's who." Sir Edwin said.

"That's not what happened at all." Sherlock shrugged. You gave him a look. He wasn't wrong, but this version of the story was saving his butt. And if his butt was saved, so was yours.

"It is now." Mycroft told him.

"Remarkable. How did you do it?" Lady Smallwood looked up at the screen, clearly impressed with the edited tape.

"We have some very talented people working here. If James Moriarty can hack every TV screen in the land, rest assured we have the tech to, er, doctor a bit of security footage." As Sir Edwin explained this, you were too busy laughing at Sherlock as he tried to throw a bit of what was left of his biscuit into his mouth. He missed and it started sliding down his shirt and he grabbed for it before it fell to the floor.

"Sherlock, stop it." You chuckled as quietly as you could. You closed your eyes briefly, trying to calm yourself down so you didn't burst into laughter. Sherlock chuckled and you squeezed your eyes tighter to resist the urge to laugh. It was becoming exceedingly hard as you could still hear the rustles of his clothing as he continued to throw bits of biscuits into the air.

"That is now the official version; the version anyone we want to will see." Sir Edwin finished.

"No need to go to the trouble of getting some sort of official pardon. You're off the hook, Mr Holmes. You're home and dry." Lady Smallwood told him.

"Okay, cheers." Sherlock stood, taking your hand to bring you along with him. You stood as he grabbed his coat and threw it on, beginning to button it up.

"Obviously there's unfinished business. Moriarty." Lady Smallwood leaned forward expectantly towards the two of you.

"Oh, yeah. I thought we already went over that. He's dead." You told her with a wave of your hand as you easily dismissed it.