It wasn't often that Sherlock Holmes wanted his over-active brain to just switch off and allow him the luxury of lying curled up and blissfully asleep in his bed. Today however was definitely one of those rare occasions. So when the constant niggling continued, Sherlock entered his Mind Palace, went in search of, and found a remote control which he proceeded to switch to the 'off' position. Satisfied he re-emerged from his Mind Palace to snuggle further under the bedcovers.

Determined not to lose the argument, his brain in retaliation turned the remote back to the 'on' position and started sending images behind his closed eyelids, highlighting recent events.

It started with the recent past.

Sherrinford...
Though the reflection showed familiar features, it was clear from the chillingly calculating gaze, the mocking rise of an eyebrow and the surly tilt of the lips that the world's only consulting detective was no longer in charge of either his mind, or his body.

Culverton Smith...
"Why don't you come and sit down," Smith suggested, as he and Staples led the half comatose Sherrinford over to a chair and sat him down.

As Sherrinford's head lowered and his chin came to rest against his chest, Culverton Smith gave a chuckle.

But as he reached out to ruffle the mass of curls, his expression became contemptuous. "And just like that," he sneered triumphantly "you are mine, to do with as I wish."

Molly...
Molly reached up to cradle Sherlock's face in her capable, yet delicate hands.

"We have feelings for a reason, Sherlock. Maybe instead of locking them away, what you should do is investigate and explore them fully. What you discover may surprise you. Feelings should be embraced, not rejected. They are at the heart of who we are. Bury them as deep as you like, they'll never leave you, they are a part of you. Accepting they have a place takes courage. That's why we risk so much when we allow others in."

Stretching up Molly placed a gentle kiss to his cupids bow lips.

Going into rehab...
His plans to woo Molly went spectacularly to hell with the arrival of three well-built, well-dressed thugs, under orders from Mycroft arrived to escort him to a private drug rehabilitation facility.

'Typical!' Sherlock thought bitterly, that Mycroft should choose now to remember his solution to the suicide mission he'd volunteered him for.

"Just a precaution," Mycroft had assured him.

The Trial of Culverton Smith...
If Sherlock had been regarded as a problem to the penal system, due to the outbreaks of violence expected once the inmates learnt who was to join their ranks. Smith was to prove equally problematic. But this time the concern lay in the danger Smith posed, should he apply his particular skill-set on the other prisoners and guards etc.

A decision was made post-haste for Smith to be held in a super hush-hush high security installation on an isolated island. His trial was thus rescheduled, so that it could proceed without further delay. As such, Sherlock's presence was required sooner than originally planned, as a key witness, and so he was released from rehab early.

Except that Smith threw a spanner in the works, having for whatever reason (pride, shame, embarrassment) decided that his best and only option was to take his own life.

The fact that he'd achieved this feat while under 24-hour surveillance meant that a lengthy internal investigation was now likely to follow.

Sherlock hoped that the investigation netted a better result than the failed attempts to get Smith to explain how he used the video broadcast to release Sherrinford from where he'd been safely buried for so many years.

All the way to what happened the day before.

Molly, Molly, Molly...
Molly stepped over the threshold. "Well, I'm here. What do you need?"

Sherlock made his way over to where she stood, without hesitation he replied. "What I've always needed Molly, you, and only you," before bending down to place a passionate kiss upon her lips.

And that was all it took.

In an instant Molly had her arms wrapped around him, before Sherlock lifted her easily, carrying her down the hall and into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Clothes were swiftly dispensed with before they tumbled on to the bed, where more desperate kisses were exchanged...

It was only when he felt a delicate yet capable hand wrap itself around his very prominent erection that caught the attention of both his conscious and subconscious, causing his hips to arch up encouragingly as an agonised moan escaped his lips. His eyes snapped open, instantly focussed on the woman currently leaning over him with a cheeky grin on her face.

With an endearingly impish smile Molly noted. "So you took my advice to heart then."

Sherlock nodded. "I did," there was a brief pause, "and Sherrinford's."

The astonishment in Molly's eyes was clear. "Sherrinford...?"

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably under Molly's continued scrutiny.

"He had a unique perspective of you..." he began before realising that bringing up Sherrinford might be in what John termed the 'not good' category, left him uncertain as to how to proceed.

But he needn't have worried. This was Molly after all, the only person who had ever been able to see right through him.

Molly released her hold on his rigid member, much to Sherlock's disappointment, to trail her fingers back up his body, until they reached his chin and upper lip, now sinfully darkened by stubble.

"Is that so," she murmured throatily. "Tell me more."

"I'll do better than that," Sherlock stated with a rakish grin.

Molly gave a squeal of surprise when Sherlock, flipped her over so that he was now the one 'on top'.

"I'll show you," he all but purred.

Molly didn't bother hiding the shudder of excitement that his words and the heated promise in his eyes had invoked.

Sherlock ever so gently and all too briefly brushed his lips against Molly's, before placing a series of sweet, if bristly kisses against her cheek, chin, then down her collarbone and the upper curve of her right breast.

Sliding down her body he paused at her midsection to rest his cheek against her tummy for a moment, before rubbing the rough stubble along her skin like a contented cat.

Molly gasped and groaned, her whole body aquiver at the exquisite sensation his actions ignited within her.

When he reached the thatch of copper-coloured curls at the apex of her thighs, Sherlock couldn't suppress the grin of satisfaction that spread across his face at the sight of her cunt slick with arousal.

With the greatest of care he pressed his lips to the sensitive clit, his stubble causing delightful tingling sensations which had Molly spreading her legs wider, desperate for more. When Sherlock began licking up her slick juices Molly's hips began to rise and fall, and her breathing became more erratic.

She whimpered as he now eased one long, elegant finger into her already dripping cunt. It was soon joined by a second then together they began a slow, circular movement that had Molly bucking her hips up against his hand, frantic in her need to find release.

But she wanted, needed, absolutely had to have him inside her before she came. Reaching down she grabbed a handful of curls, giving a sharp tug. Sherlock took the hint, allowing Molly to pull him back up to where she wanted him.

With his arms firmly braced either side of her head, Sherlock raised his hips, surging forward to thrust his cock, all the way to the hilt, filling her.

Sherlock's eyes closed briefly as the incredible feeling of being inside her washed over him. It was pure bliss.

When Molly wrapped her legs around his hips, and her hands reached down to grab his taut buttocks it was clear that she was close, so he increased his pace.

And that sent Molly tumbling over, with her intense orgasm triggering his. He managed one, two more thrusts before his body went rigid as his climax washed over him.

Collapsing on top of Molly, Sherlock stayed where he was a moment, enjoying the incredible sensations that were rippling through his body.

Eventually though he withdrew and moved off her, before pulling her close.

They drifted off to sleep then. Arms wrapped securely around one another, content in the knowledge that they were both where they wanted to be, together at last.

Somewhere deep within his Mind Palace Sherrinford punched the air with his fist in jubilation. "Way to go, bro. Well done"