Slightly flustered, but trying not to show it, Janine tried to walk casually into the bathroom where Sherlock was taking a bath. John had looked at her in such a scandalized way, and she couldn't help but wonder what he must be thinking at that second. Closing the bathroom door behind her, she leaned against it, taking a deep breath.
"Hello." Sherlock's deep voice came from the corner, where he stood undressing. Janine flushed and struggled to keep her eyes on his face.
"Hey, Sherl," she again tried for casual but knew her face was red. "Where've you been?"
"Every man has to have his secrets, love." He chuckled and Janine felt her insides melting. His voice…sigh.
She giggled and moved to push the dark button down shirt from his shoulders. His skin was smooth and warm to the touch. Looking up at him playfully, she tugged on the waistband of his pants. His eyebrows shot up and a smirk hinted at the corners of his mouth. Encouraged by his lack of protest, her eyes moved to the button. It popped open and her eyes shot up to Sherlock's face to judge his reaction. His eyes were intense on her face, watching everything she did. Looking down, she held her breath and jerked down the zipper. It was at that moment that something warm and wet touched her toes. The bath had overfilled.
"Sherlock!" She scolded. What a mess. Janine moved to the small cupboard to grab a towel. By the time she had turned back around, Sherlock's clothes were a heap on the ground and he was in the tub, up to his neck in hot water and bubbles. She fought back disappointment. He somehow always managed to keep her from seeing min naked, despite the fact that she was so obviously ready for the next step in their relationship. She didn't get the sense that he had had many…girlfriends, so maybe he was just nervous.
Walking around behind him, she slipped her hands into the warm water, finding the tense muscles that ran across his strong shoulders. There were few things that Janine enjoyed other more than touching Sherlock, in any way. The only word she could think of when it came to him was "perfection". Alright so it wasn't the only word, but it was all she was thinking about now. Putting her lips against his neck, she planted small kisses up and along his jaw, still massaging his shoulders. She felt him relaxing and smiled to herself. Sherlock was so wound up usually that she was proud to be able to give him some measure of comfort.
He hummed in contentment and Janine felt it all the way to her bones. Her hands drifted of their own accord to his stomach and she felt the strong muscles there. He started to tense and she realized that he thought she was going to try take things further. Before he could protest and push her away, Janine slide her hands up to his chest where she grasped her own wrists. She then rested her head on his shoulder. He relaxed again. His head fell back on her shoulder. Sure, Janine wished they could go further, but she was happy just like this. She wouldn't push him. She could never do that to him.
"I love you, Sherlock Holmes," she whispered, and though he didn't answer, she could feel his smile.