His Great Game (Sherlock x Reader)

Chapter 31: At Long Last

A/N: People who read, comment, and enjoy the story but don't vote make me very sad :,(  Yooo but thank you guys so much for reading- this story is in the rankings for Wattpad Fanfiction, so thanks for that. :D I also can't believe that people in FIFTY different countries are reading this story (whaaaaat??) That's so crazy! I started writing this story on a dare in May and was going to stop after a few chapters, but the devotion from hundreds and now tens of thousands of you has kept me going. Y'all are absolutely brilliant :)

Furthermore, thank you for over 37 THOUSAND reads (Holy crap!!) and 2 thousand votes. I am so incredibly overjoyed that this story has been doing so well, so thank you again for reading!

!!*SPOILERS*!!

I am so, so sorry. (*knock knock* Is anyone actually still sitting there, waiting?) It's been an obscenely long time since I've updated, mainly because I had no idea how to write the next chapter, what I wanted it to include, where the plot was going, etc. So I tried  to make it worth the wait, however I think its sub-par. But YES, the ship will sail this chapter. I know, I know. Finally! Don't get your hopes up, it's not even that great.  

But for real though, what are you still doing here? You are 79,000 words into a mediocre-at-best fanfiction without even a single kiss, just plenty of sexual tension and frustration. Do you have nothing better to do? Are you Sherlock-deprived? Or maybe you're here for the plot. (Me: Plot? What plot?) Anyways, without further adieu, I conclude my author's note and leave you all to your reading. Enjoy! 

(Your POV)

"John, you wanted to see me?"

"Ah, (Y/n)," Sherlock said almost invitingly as I entered the living room, setting down his tea and saucer on the side table.

I snorted. "Oh, so we're speaking again, are we?"

I earned myself a glare. "(Y/n)," John spoke quietly and beckoned me over by his chair where he was seated. "I know you're upset- I'm a little pissed off, too. Just let him talk, alright?" As if his words weren't enough, he sent me a pleading look with his soft, blue-grey eyes. I let out a long breath and straightened back up.

"Fine," I crossed my arms and turned back to Sherlock, "Start talking."

There was a moment of silence before Sherlock came out with it. "Irene Adler's alive."

It took me several seconds to process the words coming out of his mouth. "What do you mean she's alive?!" I didn't believe it. I couldn't.

"Exactly that."

"Wha-?" He's got to be joking. This was impossible. The body at the mortuary had definitely been hers- John and I had gone to check for ourselves. "How do you know?"

John answered for Sherlock. "She sent a car to pick me up. I thought it was Mycroft again so I got in, but as it turns out, it was Adler. She spoke to me a bit, and Sherlock was there watching."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned. John wouldn't lie to me, so it must be true. "Well isn't this just brilliant." I turned my attention to Sherlock once more, ready to give him a piece of my mind. "Right. Okay. You haven't said a word to me in a week, and this is how you're breaking the silence? Telling me Irene Adler is, in fact, alive and breathing?"

"Yes," Sherlock answered as calmly and evenly as before, watching me with calculating blue eyes as I paced back and forth by John's chair. His hands were in their usual steeple position, resting just beneath his chin. "It seemed necessary that you know what's going on."

I stopped in my tracks and gave John a 'Can you believe this guy?' face before turning back to face Sherlock. "Fine. That's fair. Nevertheless, Sherlock, it would've been nice to hear even just a word from you this last week. What was that all about!?"