Fog
by: Ismira Daugene

Chapter 2: Marked

John groaned and moved to console his aching head. The fetal position seemed like a good idea. Curling up on his side, John noticed that he wasn't wearing trousers of any kind. In fact, it seemed that he was only wearing a thin t-shirt and pants. Whatever had happened last night must have been interesting. He could remember being at the hospital benefit and Sarah letting him go home early… because of the incident with the werewolf elite.

John sprung up into a seated position, trying to ignore the blinding pain in his right temple. The light was dim in the sparse plain room. In fact the only things in the room were the full size bed he currently laid on, a desk with a chair, and a dresser with a mirror on top. The single window in the room was curtained and had bulletproof glass. He imagined that it would have a sophisticated lock on it as well. "Bloody hell," John cursed as he lifted a hand to press against his temple, which he could feel had been dressed. How hard had the werewolf hit him?

He scooted to the edge of the bed, his feet hitting the cool wood floor, and stood slowly. That werewolf was going to get a piece of his mind. You don't just knock someone out and drag them back to your place. It was all a bit caveman-ish. Standing, John managed to wrap the blanket around himself (his trousers, and other clothing for that matter, were no where to be found in the bedroom) and stumbled towards the door. Outside was a short hallway, one end dead ending in what looked to be a linen closet, the other leading to a set of stairs. John slowly walked down the stairs, one hand holding the blanket securely around his shoulders, the other guiding along the wall (his head was still spinning a bit).

The stairs led down into the flat proper where there was an open space for the living area and a wide doorway led to a kitchen. Two other doors led to what John presumed were another bedroom and a bathroom. The place was a mess, to put it succinctly. Papers, books, newspapers, shoes, boxes, a few articles of clothing, a couple of tennis balls, some tea cups, a cluedo game stabbed to the wall above the mantle, and a dangerous looking harpoon littered the living area. The kitchen was no better. Except that it was littered with beakers, test tubes, and other various experimentation equipment. In fact, John thought he could see a human fingernail under the microscope. It didn't really look like somewhere that a werewolf elite would live. In all of the mess though, John did not see hide nor hair of the mysterious Sherlock. He supposed he could be in the other room, whose door was closed.

This was all a bit surreal. A werewolf had kidnapped him and left him in the upstairs bedroom, whose windows had bars on it he might add, and he couldn't rightly go anywhere because he was missing a few key articles of clothing along with his shoes. However… he eyed the clothing lying about the living area speculatively. The shoes he was sure he could fit into; they'd be large, but he could fit in them. The trousers though… John slipped over to a dark pair of trousers and pulled them off of the back of the chair. They might be a bit tight, and definitely too long, but he thought they would do. Quickly as he could, John pulled on the trousers (definitely tight!) and slipped his feet into a pair of shoes. Grabbing a long wool coat off the rack near the door, John moved to turn the door handle and exit the flat… that was until a low voice stopped him. "And just where do you think you're going dressed like that?"

John stiffened and turned to face the werewolf who'd just emerged from one of the closed doors. His hair was wet and plastered his skull and he was dressed in nothing besides a silky navy blue housecoat tied loosely at the waist. Just showered then. "I'm taking my leave now. I've had about enough of this nonsense," John said with as much sternness as he could muster.

The lycanthrope smirked, but didn't move. "You think so, do you? You think you can just leave? That this is all just a game?"

"Well isn't it? I mean, who goes around kidnapping people nowadays just because they find them interesting?"

"There's a few…" he replied. "Though most are criminals who want a ransom."

"And what are you then?"

"A werewolf who's found a mate."

John's eyes widened and his jaw fell open a bit. "What?" he managed to gasp out once his brain had re-booted.

The man's smirk grew even broader and he slowly sauntered forward. "I spent all of last night thinking about it. Only finalized things just this morning in the shower. You're a puzzle, John Watson, and I intend on keeping you around to figure you out."

"You don't need to make me your mate to do that!" John's voice was an octave higher than normal.

"Oh but I do, because you smell amazing, John. Irresistible, in fact," he grinned before making a point to inhale deeply.

"But… but I'm a bloke!"

The lycanthrope chuckled and continued walking forward. "That you are. Does that matter?"

"Yes! It bloody well does matter! I mean, it's all fine! Blokes being with other blokes… It really is, except for the part where we MATE! Didn't anyone ever teach you basic biology?"

"Our mates don't have to be suitable partners for procreation," the werewolf was now standing directly in front of John. "We can bite anyone and make new werewolves that way. It isn't necessary to our survival to birth them."

"But… Don't I get any say in this?"

"You haven't read the werewolf laws lately have you?"

John shook his head and backed into the door.

"Once a mate is selected, the werewolf has but to mark them. The government has decreed that the mate is then under the control of the werewolf. You would have the same rights as one of us, but you would be mine."

John felt as though a hole had opened up to another dimension inside of him and his stomach along with several other vital organs had been sucked in. This had to be a dream. There was no way that a werewolf would want to mate with him. It was preposterous! "No… I… You can't…."

The werewolf leaned in towards John. He was only a hair's breadth away. "I can, and I will." He inhaled deeply and leisurely let the breath back out against John's neck. "You smell so good, John." His nose touched the side of John's neck, and John found himself leaning his head so the werewolf had more room to do as he pleased. "That's it…" John could hear the smirk. The werewolf buried his nose against John and licked at the sweat that had formed there.

Two hands found their way to John's hips and gently steered him away from the door. John's already dizzy head followed the silent instructions without protest, and he soon found himself backed against the sofa. The werewolf kissed and licked at John's neck the entire time. "Lie down on your front, John," the werewolf directed, pulling away from John's neck.

John turned and the werewolf pulled the long wool coat off of him before he lay down on the sofa. His swirling mess of a head sunk against the Union Jack pillow. John felt the werewolf straddle him and large hands softly ran up and down his back and sides. "What are you doing?" John murmured his muzzy brain not understanding why his subconscious was putting up such a fight.

"Shh… it will all be over in a moment," the werewolf answered as he covered John's smaller body with his own.

The soft licks and gentle nips returned to the back of John's neck and he felt himself relaxing into the soothing touches. His eyes closed and just as he was exhaling a long breath, the werewolf bit down on the nape of his neck. John's eyes flew back open and a choked yell came from his throat. "Get off!" John bucked back against the werewolf, but he held on. John was sure skin had been broken.

Just as suddenly as it had started, the werewolf let go of John's neck and instead wrapped his arms around John and softly shushed him as he lapped at the back of his neck. Shudders raced through John and he suddenly felt very tired. "What – what did you do to me?" he asked.

"I've begun the bonding process. You have been marked as mine. No other werewolf will come near you," the werewolf replied still wrapped around John's body and nuzzling against the back of John's neck.

"How… how did you…?" John searched for the correct word, but his brain was slowly shutting down. Sleep was beckoning.

"Seduce you? Is that what you want to know?"

John gave a soft grunt of affirmation.

The werewolf chuckled a bit. "It was quite easy really. I simply used your own hormones against you."

"How?"

"Hush, you need to sleep now."

"No, I… I…"

"Sleep," the soft whisper held a secondary element to it, something in the timber of his voice that commanded John to obey. And try though he might, it was impossible to ignore. With a soft sigh, John fell into a deep slumber, his body completely boneless in Sherlock's arms. The werewolf smiled, not one of those 'humans-are-so-amusing' smiles; a true one… one he rarely let others see. "Sleep well, my mate, for there are more challenges yet to come," he whispered against the back of John's neck before nosing in against him and drifting to sleep himself.

Author's Notes: So since the majority of chapter one was already posted for voting material, I decided to give you guys something new right away. Aren't I nice? lol... but no really. I hope you like it and please review to let me know what you think!

Also, don't expect all of the chapters to come out this fast. I'll probably post another chapter within the next few days, but then we'll have to see after that. I have about five chapters planned so far and that's only just getting into the story. Mind, the chapters are all between 1,500 and 2,000 words, so they're not that long. Either way, ENJOY!