The Baker- Moriarty x Reader Chpt- 3

They waited as you set things up with Susan so that the bakery would still run while you were gone and then you beckoned for them to follow. You led them through the back where the ovens were and a small office that they assumed was yours, and then up a flight of stairs. All the way you and Sherlock chatted about your most recent work for Mycroft, as where your brother fancied science, you fancied technology, and you often tinkered with things for the government to keep you from the boredom.

I mean come on, what Holmes could ever be satisfied with something as normal as being a baker without something to keep their brain busy?

You let them take in your flat as you pulled off your apron and tossed it at a hamper in the corner before moving to a wide worktable with a number of computer monitors and large screens surrounding it, the large one on the wall in the middle blinking in a pressing way. You balanced yourself on your knee in the swivel chair in front of it and pressed at a few buttons before Mycroft’s unamused face came up on the screen, “What have a told you about hanging up on me?”

You rolled your eyes, “I believe you said, ‘don’t’ "

He quirked an expectant eyebrow at you and you shrugged, “What can I say? I’m a rebel.”

“You are not to join Sherlock on this case,” he continued after pulling an annoyed face.

You smirked, “Are you losing your hearing in your old age My? I just said I’m a rebel.”

He glared at you, “Let me speak to Sherlock.”

“Oh Sherly~ Brother dearest would like to speak with you~” you sang, disappearing into another area of the house.

Sherlock took your place with John behind him, smirking so hard even a complete stranger would have slapped it off his face, “Hello Brother.”

Mycroft began to say something but Sherlock simply stated, “Goodbye Brother,” and pressed a button that made the screen go blank.

You came back in with a bag slung over your shoulder and a wide metal brief case in hand, your hair shifted to a sleek ponytail and your clothes changed to a set free of flour. The screen started to blink again and you shoved the briefcase at Sherlock, tapping couple of buttons again to answer it with a wide grin on your face.

A young man with thick-framed glasses and disheveled hair came up on the screen, startling slightly at the amount of people on your end, “Shall I call back later K?”

You shook your head, “It’s alright Q, I know what you’re calling about. I’ll have it done by the end of the week.”

“No rush,” he said giving you a small grin.

You giggled, “Laterz Q.”

“Laterz K,” he reciprocated and the screen went blank again.

You began tapping away at the keyboard as Sherlock gave you an unamused look, “He fancies you.”

You shook your head, “Don’t start Sherlock. You have John and I have Q… besides he’s far too young for me and I certainly don’t return the sentiment. There. Everything’s set to the laptop now. Let’s go.”

John was freakishly quiet as the three of you made your way back to Baker St. and a look from Sherlock told you that his friend was slowly trying to process the overwhelming amount of information the two of you had just supplied him with. It wasn’t until you were sitting in his chair with a cup of tea that he finally spoke up, “So you’re Sherlock’s younger sister and you run a bakery while developing technology for the government on the side,” you nodded and he continued, “and that man on the screen…”

“What man?” you finished for him with a little smirk and John sighed, “Classified?”

You nodded, “Very.”

Sherlock appeared in the kitchen doorway, “Lestrade wants us to interview the brother.”

Within seconds you and Sherlock were stalking out the door, leaving John to catch up as usual, and the first person you ran into at New Scotland Yard was, of course, Anderson.

John soon found out that your aversion towards Anderson was far stronger than your brother’s as you all but hissed up at Sherlock, “Get him out of my sight before I hit him.”

Sherlock smirked, “You’d best leave Anderson. You know she can be unpredictable.”

The man paled, hightailing it away from the three of you as he called, “Heads up Sal. The she-freak is back.”