A cold breeze coming from an open window made him shiver, he came back to reality from his mind palace. Sherlock took a glance of the place and inspects it, no signs of The Woman. She probably got bored and wander off, he thought. Before going in her search, he looked for a towel, he knew exactly where she was.
Outside, the sun was descending swiftly and the cool breeze caresses the brown leaves of the trees.
She wasn't there, of course, in her wanderings she discovered the path towards the lagoon. He walked under the arch formed by small trees and yellow-brown leaves.
Near the end of the path, Sherlock could heard the faint sound of water and someone moving in it. He stop just at the edge, and saw her.
In a small lagoon, surrounded by trees and fallen leaves, diaphanous waters bathe her, she is naked, naturally. The picture is stunning and Sherlock engrave it on his mind. He stands there for some minutes, trying to remember every bit of the scene. After a while, he decided to step forward.
"Come out, it's getting cold" He said, offering the towel.
Irene turned towards him and slowly walked out from the lagoon. Once out, she began to shiver. Sherlock wrapped her in the towel, refusing to look at her. Even though she noticed, she leaned on him, looking for embrace.
"Christ, you're cold." Sherlock move aside and took her by the arm "Let's get inside."
"No, wait" Said Irene, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking into his eyes "Darling, stop"
"What? Stop what?" Sherlock asked puzzled.
"Stop holding back" Those word worked like magic on his brain, unconsciously he placed his hands at her shoulders and looked down at her.
Her body carved like marble, a body he had memorized, inch by inch. For a first time at Belgravia, then, in Karachi, even more times after that.
As his heart races and his pupils dilate, he surrenders. He gives into her. Into her kisses, her touches, her breath, her skin. Soon, the towel lies in the ground and also his shirt. Now Irene can feel his warm naked skin, hugs him tight, she feels their bodies pressed to each other.
Within brief moments, they lie in the fallen towel. And she is not cold anymore, the heat and the passion of the moment keeps them warm.
He struggle with his trousers, and with feverish movements, she gasp soundly as he enters her, he moans deeply.
Both hold tight into each other, because they are afraid of letting go, afraid of what can be. Now that Moriarty is back, anything can happen, at any minute, at any place. But they are together now, panting, sweating, enjoying, moaning.
Their stomachs flutter with the feeling. Flutter with words, words they will not say to each other, because now, they don't need to say them.
And they are lost, they are lost in the feeling, in the kisses, the strokes, fingers lost in raven hair.

He can't remember how long it has been, four months? Five maybe?. Any other day he will think he's weak, that he has lost her game, as any common men. But not now, not today, perhaps, not anymore. Because now, he knows how he feels, what he feels, what The Woman means to him. The only woman who matters and always will. And right there, in that moment, he knows that the feeling flows both ways.
She knows the feeling flows both ways, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Any other day she will think she's a silly girl. Giving in into him, all of her, not just her body, her fears and insecurities also. Showing herself so vulnerable, with blind faith that he will not betray her. But she is not ashamed of herself, not now, no anymore. She will not denied this feeling anymore, neither can he.

And while the stars shine over them, He feel he lose control, but he wants to wait for her. She knows what he's thinking and let him know she is also close. Irene hold tight on his shoulder, her moans are loud and deep. Her release is music to his ears. And soon, his movements become uncoordinated and his breaths ragged.

When he's slowly recovering his temple, Sherlock can see Irene laughing soft, deep and pleased. He can't speak yet, so he just look at her puzzled.
"I had never made love under the stars" Said Irene. Sherlock kisses her, deep and slow. Now, after many years knowing each other, he can admit it.
"Neither have i"