A/N: This has nothing to do with the other story and will probably be very short and ridiculous. Hope you like it :3
Disclaimer: Own nothing I do.
Chapter 1:
Swirling in dreams, Sherlock was surprised when he woke handcuffed to a bed not his own. Slowly regaining his faculties, he scanned the room, trying to take in as many details as possible. There was a bedside table with a short glass containing what looked like water and a single window. From his position, however, he could only see the overcast sky. The wallpaper had a distinct french style but he couldn't place what year it had been made. The door seemed to be made of oak, but he couldn't make an accurate deduction without getting closer. The handle was french as well and golden in color. He had absolutely no clue as to his current location.
His own position was very strange. He couldn't recall what he did last before falling asleep, but it certainly wouldn't have involved going to bed naked. Hmm, so someone must have undressed him, hopefully after they moved him to this location. Though he was lying naked on the bed, he was surprisingly not cold, other than the cool cuffs on each of his ankles and wrists. He felt slightly groggy, so perhaps he hadn't fallen asleep, but was instead, drugged. Interesting...
He turned his head to the side and looked out the window again. The creak of the door announced Irene Adler's presence. A dark robe was draped loosely over her shoulders, hardly hiding the fact that she, too, was naked. Her smoky eyes hungrily crept over his nude body before meeting his eyes. "I'm glad to see you're awake."
"Ms. Adler," he nodded at her. He kept his face stoic, waiting for an explanation from the woman standing across from him.
She smiled and crossed the room to the table beside the bed and sat with her back to Sherlock's side. She turned slightly, angling her body to face him. "I suppose you're wondering why you're here, Mr. Holmes." She offered Sherlock a drink from the glass on the table.
Sniffing the liquid, he decided that if she had wanted him dead she would have killed him already, instead of offering poison. That, and he was parched, so he took a sip.
"I have my suspicions." He leveled his gaze to her face, careful not to stare at the scantily clad body next to him.
She glanced down avoiding his eye contact for a moment. She placed the glass down on the bedside table before she returned her gaze to Sherlock. The smile returned to her face as she reached to stroke Sherlock's face.
"Look at you. The only thing that could make this better is if there was a pretty little bow on you."
"Are you intending to keep me tied here forever?" Sherlock knit his brows in irritation at being stolen away from his home and livelihood.
Irene put her finger to Sherlock's lips, effectively shushing him. "Now, Sherlock, someone paid a pretty good sum to see to it that you and I have a little fun." She glanced down to his striking collar bone, "and it just so happens that the offer came from someone I couldn't possibly refuse."
She got up on the bed on all fours with her arms pinning the already restrained Sherlock. She looked at Sherlock's face and noted the uncomfortable way his eyes shifted with a slight tint of fear. "Oh come now, do you honestly want to remain a virgin forever?"
"It's none of your business and I am not interested." Sherlock gulped, bolstering the last bit of his confidence, which had slowly been draining since Irene Adler had strode into the room.
"It's not really for you or me to decide," she answered with a sigh. "Though it would be a lot easier if you were cooperative. I don't particularly care for punishing someone who doesn't enjoy it." She glanced down. "I don't know if I should be hurt that you're not excited to see me, or if you've never been so close to a naked woman that you don't know how to react." She slid her hand down his chest, gently scratching his skin with her nails.
"I'd love to see your skin turn red. It's a much prettier color than this boring tone." Irene paused, smiling and teasing him with her eyes.
"You've caught a bit of break though," she said, "I need to go see a very important client and I musn't be late." She backed away and lightly placed her feet on the ground, never loosing sight of Sherlock as she left the bed.
"You caught me in the middle of getting ready." She patted her hair, making sure it was in place, "I just had to make sure my favorite detective was alright." She walked towards the door and opened it, stopping in the door frame.
"Don't worry, darling. I'll be back later to finish what I started." With that, she threw a meaningful stare and closed the door.
Sherlock could even hear the distinct noise as the lock clicked into place. Hardly necessary considering there wasn't anyway he was getting out of these bonds anytime soon. Yelling seemed superfluous considering he was most likely on the second or third floor of the building and it was unlikely that Adler would allow such a flaw in her plan.
Sighing, he wriggled against the bonds, testing their durability. They seemed fairly sturdy and if he had to guess, he'd say they were typical steel, chain handcuffs, probably with a slot lock to prevent him from injuring himself. He grumbled in frustration. Why did this have to happen to him? Especially from The Woman of all people!
He wondered briefly about John. What would John say when he found out about this mess Sherlock had managed to get into? He entertained the idea of a rescue coming to save him from the grasp of Irene Adler, but he shook himself. 'Let's not get carried away," he thought. Rescues were wonderful to read about in the papers and in stories, but the chances of that happening in this scenario were pretty slim and Sherlock never liked the idea of false hope.
Unable to turn his body into a comfortable position, Sherlock realized that his discomfort had only just begun. Exasperated with his nonexistent options, the arrival of another wave of exhaustion hit his body like a brick and sent Sherlock to sleep.