Goodness, I haven't uploaded a story for a while...but fear not! I do plan on finishing some other stories, but just be patient with me.
I have recently gotten into Sherlock, and now I am completely obsessed! Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman play their parts so well, and everything is so artfully laid out. I love it so much! This story takes place after 'A Scandal in Belgravia', so it might not make much sense if you haven't seen that episode. I would highly suggest watching that episode before reading this. Anyway, enough of me rambling: enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Sherlock, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned in this story. The story and plot line is mine, and I ask that this not be posted elsewhere without my given permission. Any derogatory or plain rude comments will be deleted. Constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you.
The rain fell, and on the window ran sorrowful, fat trails of water down the misted glass. The weather had been dreary the past few days and even before the skies had been overcast, as if foreshadowing the gloomy days to come.
"She's gotten into a witness protection program," said John Watson, who clutched the blue-topped government file bag a touch tighter.
He thinks he is lying.
Sherlock gave Irene's wiped phone a triumphant flip, a smirk curling his lips. Yes, there had been the terrorist capture, and yes, she was to be beheaded. And yes, he had been there.
"You came for me," The Woman whispered, standing among the dead terrorists with her hands placed on both sides of Sherlock's covered face. With a semi-indignant huff, he pulled the black cloth down so it sat under his chin.
"You thought I wouldn't?" The Detective replied in like, leaning in closer as she did.
"I thought this was a game…"
"We should play more often." Lips melded, and with heated passion they tasted and held each other in that dank, dark cavern.
Hands slid around his back and came to clutch each other at the front, completely encircling his waist.
"Yes, we really should," The Woman breathed into his neck as she stretched up on her toes to ghost her lips over the sensitive skin. Sherlock clutched her wrists lightly.
"Yes…"
"I love you…"
"I love you too."
Comments? Criticisms? Leave a review! I hope you enjoyed!