Chester, 1992
A young woman was briskly walking down the street. From the dark circles under her eyes, a general worn-out appearance and the bag full of books that she was carrying with difficulty, it was obvious that she was one of the many young people who were attending the University of Chester. Actually, the college was just around the corner, at the girl's left. However she took the right. A few moments later, a black limousine who appeared so suddenly that it was like it appeared from nowhere started to follow slowly the woman. She did not look frightened or frustrated. In fact, her face remained quite expressionless. Her brow did not shot upward when one of the limousine's windows slide down. Her eyes did not narrow when a voice called out her name. Her mouth did not stretch into a pout when a door of the limousine opened. She kept the same placid, impassive expression on her face when she climbed in the car. Oh, she was a cold one, that woman. But that's how Mr. Holmes liked them. Not Ice Queens, no. Ice is such a fragile thing. You can crush it with your finger or can make it melt with your warm breath. Mr. Holmes liked them smart, maybe too smart. See, Mr. Holmes liked them like himself; intelligent, stoic, independent, but cold? Never!
While in the limousine, the man and the woman did what men and women do when they have an hour or two to kill. On the car's backseat, they made love. Calculating, analyzing love.
"Do me a favor and give me a glass of gin."
The red-haired woman obeyed mechanically, lost in her thoughts. She thought about her biochemistry lab, much more fascinating than what was happening in this car. But Holmes was the answer. Holmes was the key. Holmes was, in other words, her university diploma.
For the first time since days, weeks maybe, the woman threw her head back and laughed. Holmes gazed hungrily at her naked white neck. Then he looked at her thin, pale lips, her high-cheekbones, her red eyelashes.
He took the bottle of gin and gulped noisily the rest of it. When he spoke, his voice was as firm as before. His gaze, as steady.
"So do you want that answer, or not?"
The woman wasn't even surprised that Holmes knew that she was using him. In fact, he seemed merely amused by the fact. What a whore she was.
Then, she made love to one of the smartest and dumbest man of all times. And at that moment, suddenly, as Holmes cried out her name in ecstasy, she gasped. Holmes icy blue eyes scrutinized her face, clearly satisfied.
The woman now wanted to know everything. She had the illumination. She was thirsty. Desperately thirsty.
"I want more," breathed the woman.
I know that this is really short, but more will come soon. Please review! It would be really appreciated.
