Change of Path (Assassin!Sherlock x Reader)

AN: This story takes place in the Victorian Area (where the original Sherlock was created) and Sherlock is a little younger, say 20 years old.
Reader is 18 or older, but that's not so game-changing

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You made your way into town, the basket on your arm waiting to be filled with goods you want to get at the local market.
Your parents were against you going out, numerous killings making the city a dangerous place for a young woman like you.
But you need the fresh goods and you refused the idea that somebody would go in your place to get them. This time out of the house was your time and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Your family situation is difficult, you are still not married and your parents try to find a suitor for you. But you pushed everyone aside, you don't want to be stuck in a marriage, it isn't even sure if you would have financial security even if you agree.
Your parents want to see you happy, but you don't think they understand your point of view. They always tell you that you will end down with the poor, stealing for a living and rotting away from disease.

So you relish every single moment you can get out and the anonymous killings won't hinder you from that.
Lost in thoughts you only realize that you are in town when you nearly fall from a hard shove to your shoulder. Straightening up and patting the space where your money pouch is, you look around and see the people mingling in the street. Some just talk with each other but must look through the goods displayed in the little stands all over the big place.

You make your way into the crowd and search for the things you want to buy. The ships came back a few days ago and so the sellers have much more than just a week before.
You relish in the different smells and sights of fruits, vegetables, and other material things.No, you wouldn't trade this time for anything in the world.

While walking around you hear snippets of different conversations, many of them about the mysterious killings.
The police are clueless, the attacker never leaving a trace of their identity. No footsteps, no left things, nothing. It seems like a ghost is killing these people.
Also, they don't seem to find a connection between the victims, nothing that would lead to a motive.
After Jack the Ripper this might be a whole new unsolved case if things continue to go that way.

You are slightly fascinated by these talks, not that the people were killed but because the killer seems to behave like a ghost.
Some even say it's the wrath of god falling upon these victims because they didn't behave accordingly.
You rule this out, god can't just slit a throat of somebody like that, so there must be a living, normal person behind this. Maybe not completely 'normal' but pretty close.

You end your shopping trip and decide that you will take another route home to stretch the walk and buy more time for yourself.
With quick steps you disappear into a side street and escape the crowd, taking a deep breath and smiling to yourself. Maybe you can even take the way through the fields, the flowers should be blooming by now.

Humming softly to yourself you stroll along the street and mentally check that you bought everything when a shadow falls onto you and shortly after a person lands beside you.
A startled shout leaves your throat and you back into the wall of the building behind you, watching the person with wide eyes.
Quickly they move beside you and put their hand on your lips, providing you from speaking.
“Quiet!”, the man, judging from the deep voice, hisses and you are too shocked to try to struggle, just frozen in place you watch him looking up.
You follow his gaze and after a few seconds, you see two pairs of heavy boots jumping over the gap between the houses.

“Where did that boy go? When I catch him I will gut him open”, one of the man says and you catch the sight of a police uniform.
“We couldn't have gone far, we hit him once”, the other policeman answers and then you hear the steps leaving.
Slowly the man beside you relaxes and takes his hand from your mouth, quickly you take a few steps back.

Now you can catch a glance at his demeanor.
He is taller than you and slim, but you don't doubt that he is stronger than you. He is clad in a white undershirt, a deep blue vest and brown pants and a long black leather jacket. The heavy and thick gloves are decorated with golden ornaments and tightened to it are knives.
His whole clothing style screams bad influence at you and still, you want to know what hides under the hood that shields his face from you.
You can't see his eyes but you know that he is looking at you too.

“I apologize for this all”, he says and his voice is deep, smooth but edged onto something arrogant.
And with that, he turns around and wants to leave but you won't have any of this.
With fast and firm movements you hold onto his long jacket and tug him back to you. Quickly he turns around and you feel the cold of a blade on your neck.
'Cause of the short distance between you and the man you can glance under his hood and meet with striking blue eyes with specks of green in them. His lips are curled into a frown and his sharp cheekbone seem just as deadly as his dagger.

Slowly you piece the given things you learned about this man together, starting from his fast reflexes, his style of clothes and finally the run from justice.
“You are an Assassin and probably the one who kills these people”, you say quietly and you see his eyes widen a fraction and you know that you are right.
“Why do you kill them, I thought the creed just kills people who did something bad”, You may be too curious for your own good but you are so fascinated by these types of things. You heard from a few people about the Assassins and their creed.

“You are sharper than I thought”, he takes the blade from your neck and steps back, looking you over. “Definitely sharper than these sheep they call policemen.”
You chuckle softly, knowing the truth behind those blunt words.
“You are older than 18 years old, from the middle class and still unmarried. How is that going?”, he asks and crosses his arms over his chest.
Shocked you stare at him, not sure if you are so easy to read or if he just guessed.
“Oh, you hate the prospect of marrying just for money and wealth. Do you want to have a true love? No, you don't seem like that... You want to be free, not suppressed by a man and just used for bearing children”, he snaps his fingers and you practically feel the smirk on his lips.

“Gouvernante is also nothing for you, the title grows less and less valuable, you could also be a prostitute by now to earn the same status. But you have the wits, so your parents”, he grows quiet at that before starting again.
“No, not your parents, you learned hard to maybe get passed your middle-class status. You want to be free and your own person, not imprisoned by a man.”
He stops and looks at you, smug and full of confidence.
You are baffled, he read you so easily and everything was right. And he knows you for maybe five minutes, didn't even talk to you, a look was enough.

“This was incredible”, you whisper.
He pushes back his hood a little and you see black curly looks peeking out, his face now clear for you to see. He doesn't seem bothered by that and you even think that he wants you to know who he is.
He is a cocky one, but he has the wits to justify that. Not only is he a deadly assassin, he has also a really sharp mind.

“I try my best.”
A chuckle leaves you again and then you look up at the sky, seeing that it's well past noon. Your parents probably start to worry already.
“I will leave you be then. Don't get caught by the sheep.”
With a wave you turn away from the man and continue your way home, choosing to take the shorter route.
Nonetheless, you come by a field of flowers, high grass closing the beautiful specks of colors in. Smiling you start humming again and just take in the fresh air.

“You know that in the creed you aren't oppressed by anybody, no man nor woman”, a voice says from your right and you flinch before recognizing it.
“You can't kill people”, looking to your right you see the assassin peeking out from the field. His hood is pushed back this time, nor caring if you will remember his face.
“I didn't think that. The creed can't survive without some sources and informants. You are bright, so you would fit the job quite fine.”
He walks beside you now and you hum a little. It sounds appealing, working for somebody who would appreciate it and you have your own say in it.

“You can think about it. But if you choose to take the offer, just go to the pub 'Diogenes Club' and ask for Sherlock.”
“I assume that's you”, he nods and you tell him your name before stopping in front of your house.
“I promise I will think about it, but I won't promise that I will take the job.”
“You don't have too, I already know that you want it”, he replies with a smirk and you shake your head, knowing he is right.
“I will take my leave. Farewell, (y/n)”, quickly he pushes his hood over his head and climbs the building beside your house and disappears in mere seconds.

You look after him and finally step inside your house, the stuffy air tightening your core. This is not what you want and you know it. And apparently, Sherlock knew it too.
So, while you bring the bought goods into the kitchen and get a rough lecture from your parents, you decide to go to the pub tomorrow and see the sharp, black haired assassin again.