Hello ffnet. Warnings: Male/Male pairing, first written work in 5 years, and English is not my first language. This will be 3 part piece, but only if (at least) one person of internet deems it worthy of continuation :)

Summary: When Sherlock gets drugged with strange synthetic aphrodisiac that will kill him if he doesn't give into it, Mycroft lends a hand in form of a gorgeous, discreet woman who can be there in no time. But that may not be what he needs. Johnlock, M/M

Sherlock was always under control. Even when confronted with the woman and her charm, he remained as cool as ice. By his age of 32 he has had some experience in the department, but was never ruled by his own body...until now.

After (successfully, he might add) getting to the bottom of a nasty drug/trafficking cartel (immensely fun case, he might say some other time), he fell for the same same fault for the 2nd time in his life, understating women.

This time it didn't even take an Irene Adler to beat him.

Earlier that day

Sherlock was standing on his stage, bodies of criminals around him, boasting to Lestrade to show how he connected it all: the faces, the marks, the tears and all the rest to find the cartels most secret hideout.

It was a bit disappointing that the police force was too slow in listening to his explanations, because by the time they got there, the cartel leader managed to gather his lackeys in a central room and poison them with gas. It mattered little to his sense of victory, and now it only remained to figure out where the boss tried to run off. Unfortunately he had a head start since they had to wait a bit for the room to vent out to start searching for clues, as not to get poisoned themselves.

He was gleefully looking around for clues, the scattered bodies of both genders and various ages indicating that the boss was someone with no remorse, who left as soon as possible to try to run away to some distant land. His best guess seemed to be a woman with mother issues, probably strangled as a child as method of punishment...

'This room became boring', he thought to himself, and decided to check the rest of the place. There were many police officers going around this place anyhow, making too much unnecessary noise.

"I'm going to the next room, John. Let me know when you find the Chlorine tanks, I wish to know how the gas was distributed...oh and check properly if all of this people are dead, you know how incompetent this doctors are...".

Of course Sherlock didn't look at John while talking to him, he just kept on staring and making faces at weird lines he saw on farthest wall of the room, only eye-rolling when saying world properly. If he bothered to look around he would see that John wasn't there, and he would maybe remember that he was at Harry's for her (awkward) birthday party and that he protested on Johns waste of time to useless sentiment just that morning. As it was, Lestrade eye-rolled at Sherlock's words, and went to the ambulance that arrived with them, to tell them to check on people more thoroughly. They just gave him "like we don't know to do our jobs", which just meant Earth was still turning round to him, as any other day.

While Lestrade was out of the room Sherlock made his way to the wall. It was a part of the room which was far from doors and in between furniture, but with nothing on it. He was sure there was something interesting there, a hidden stash or even possibly a hidden door with many complex clues to lead him on. He smiled and skipped happily. It wasn't well hidden though, so it made him frown the moment later.

"John, I found something", he said to the air next to him, and leaned his ear to the wall while he started to knock on it. But as soon as he knocked only once he heard a strange noise and a big heavy door of solid metal was opened in his face, someone stepping out.

As the petite middle aged woman looked at him with rage he just had his surprised facial expression and said "Oh.". In 24 hours he'll find out that she was the boss of this part of operation, and that the cartel had actually a weird occult suicide pact upon discovery, but for now he just observed her.

Observed the nicely made hairdo but with a lot of strands falling out, smeared mascara, oh and yes a knife scar on chin, probably from childhood, and the next moment he had a needle stabbed in his arm.

He made another "Oh." sound, because he was pretty sure the woman didn't have the injection in her hands moment before, and then an "Ow!" followed. Later on, when recalling this moment, he will think about her face full of fury, and how he foolishly thought that less significant then the big ruby ring on her hand he was quickly observing at the moment of the attack.

Instinctively he took the needle out, knocked her out cold and staggered backwards.

He frantically looked at the injection in his hand, where it was written with a marker LoveX-new. Lestrade was next to him in a moment.

"Oh God Sherlock! This is THE drug of the cartel."

Sherlock didn't reply anything, he just swirled dramatically around and stormed out. Lestrade tried to catch up with him and talk to him, but ended mostly talking to his back.

"Sherlock, listen to me. It's going to be all right, but you saw what it did to their victims. Most people didn't even realize they only had sex because they were drugged, some for dozen times. And others died of heart failure and other ",he stuttered a bit here, " circulation problems from not indulging in sex. YOU said it was only non fatal if some chemicals in brain or something..."

By this time Sherlock got to the street and waved to a cab.

"You need to go and you know, get some, or the consequences..." continued Lestrade but Sherlock cut him off.

"Mind over body detective, mind over body", got in to the cab and left.

In next part, Sherlock's big brother tries to help him. It doesn't go well at all.