You stand there frozen for several minutes taking in the scenery, the elegant wallpaper, the hundreds of book scattered carelessly around, a few dishes here and there and so much science equipment your inner geek flails! You cast your eyes to a faded yellow smiley face spray painted on the wall with what looks like... bullet holes invading the child like image, making it look more depressing than anything.
'That's what happens when i get bored, so lets hope your case is worth listening to.' Sherlock's deep baritone snaps you back to reality and melts through your ears. Oh God it's like listening to sex. You slowly turn to see him sat in an old armchair with his hands placed delicately underneath his chin, as if in prayer. A small half smile playing on his lips, his eye's locked on yours. Your breath, gone.
Determined not to look a fool you compose yourself giving him a confident smile, not breaking eye contact. He can see right through you, especially because of the mascara marks trailing down your flushed face are still wet and you can just tell you look like a wreck.
John walks towards you with a mug in each hand and an apologetic smile.
'Here you are, now miss...'
You introduce yourself between sips of tea, feeling the hot liquid warming your throat. Such a heavenly feeling.
'Lovely to meet you, I'm John and this is Sherlock.' Of course you already know that. 'Would you like to take a seat and explain what has happened.'
'Well..' You set the mug down on the coffee table and take a seat on the sofa. 'I've just moved into a new flat and i love it.. well loved it that is, up until it-'
'Was set on fire.' Sherlock finishes
'Wow, I wonder how you can tell.' You retort sarcastically with a smile, any one in a one mile radius can probably smell the smoke coming off of your now ruined clothes. Sherlock's gives you a small huff and lets you continue. 'On the night the fire was set I got called into work, luckily, for a night shift. This morning I arrived to find my flat engulfed in flames.' You have to fight back tears again. 'S-so obviously I was in shock.' You clear your throat. 'I heard a fire-fighter trying to explain that it wasn't an accident but i wasn't exactly listening, I was walking away from him actually, to get a cab. I came here straight away, it was my first thought.' You hang your head low, ashamed for some reason. Any minute now your barriers are going to break, you can feel the tears.
'So that's all the information you have? You didn't ask how they knew it wasn't an accident?!' you can feel the irritation in Sherlock's voice. 'Great, do you remember what the fire-fighter looked like so you can get more information?' you wince at his voice and raise your head, meeting his icy gaze. Admittedly you're a little turned on but upset at the same time, its a confusing feeling.
'W-well I believe it was Jack, a distant family friend.' Tears, fantastic. And you thought you was going to be confident, you scold yourself. Even through your tears you refuse to look away from his scrutiny.
'Oh, you did get at least a tiny bit of useful information.' Sherlock quirks an eyebrow and rolls his eyes.
'Jesus, Sherlock! Lessen the attitude just a little, She's just lost her home!' John shoots him a frustrated look. 'Sorry about that, do you have anywhere you can stay?'
'I have a cousin who lives on the outskirts of London, I guess I could stay with her.' You look down wiping your tears which have finally stopped.
'That's settled then.' Sherlock beams and stands up.
'What? No, Sherlock!' John barks. 'That's at least a 2 hour drive and you're still obviously in shock, I suggest you stay here for a few nights so you can get your bearings.' He gives you a warm smile and awaits your reply.
You look nervously towards Sherlock who is now gaping at his flatmate.
'I don't want to intrude, I mean, if Sherlock's uncomfortable with the idea then-'
'Nonsense! It's fine honestly, I... we insist. You may have to sleep on the sofa though.' He gives you an apologetic look.
'Thank you so much, it means a lot.' Your resulting smile is so grateful, you look towards Sherlock and his eye's are on fire. 'Erm... would it be okay if I used your shower? I don't want to make your whole flat smell like smoke.' You aim the question at Sherlock and you see his eye's widen just a little. John answers.
'Oh yeah of course you can, its through the hallway and to your left. There are fresh towels in there and I'll get Mrs Hudson to come and collect your clothes so she can wash them, just leave them outside the door.' John heads to the stairs to leading to the dear landladies flat and Sherlock just stares at you intently.
You find yourself attached to his gaze, his eye's never backing down. The colour of his iris's have swallowed you up and you just stand there practically in a trance. Your mouth goes dry and you can feel heat pooling just below your stomach. If he can do that with just a look imagine wha-
'Aren't you supposed to be getting a shower.' He interrupts your thoughts, his voice low and quiet.
You gulp and turn to head for the bathroom. Once inside you rest your back against the door and sigh. Balls.
You strip, folding your clothing neatly then you wrap a towel around yourself so you can place your clothes in the hallway.
It takes about ten minutes just to get the shower to work and another five to get it to the right temperature. Stepping into the tub you can feel the stress wash away as the water beats down over your head and shoulders, a slight moan escaped your lips as the warm water caresses your body. God this feels good. After the day you've had, you deserve some relaxation. After some time you pick up a bottle of all in one shampoo and conditioner.. Boys, so lazy... You shake your head and apply it, massaging it into your hair. Rinsing it off you notice a bottle of shower gel to the side of you, I bet this is Sherlock's, your mind whispers, use it! You'll smell like him, you grin wickedly. Biting your lip you squirt some into your hand and rub it all over your body, giggling. It smells amazing.
More minutes pass by as you just stand under the running water with your eyes closed, your thoughts start to drift to the inappropriate as you inhale the smell of Sherlock. They're soon cut off though.
'AAAAAAAAH! NO NO NO NO! OH MY GOD, THAT'S FREEZING!' You squeal and flail as the water turns from relaxingly warm to Antarctic, frost bite cold in a split second. You jump out of the tub hitting you knee on the side. 'OW FUCK!' You scramble to grab a towel and you wrap it tightly around yourself, to trying gather heat. Shivering you exit the bathroom and pad into the kitchen to find Sherlock leaning against the table with his arms crossed, chucking to himself.
'That's hardly funny!' You exclaim through chattering teeth.
'Hmm, I regret to say, it could be quite amusing to have you stay here for a few nights.' He gives you an evil half smile as he glides past you to his room.
You make an agitated noise as you walk through to the living room to be met by a quite shocked looking John.
'I heard a scream, are you okay?' He gushes breathlessly.
'What? Oh yeah I'm fine, just the shower almost gave me frost bite.' You say, still mildly annoyed by the amusement Sherlock got out of your ordeal.
'Sorry, it does that sometimes, here your clothes are ready and also here's an old night shirt you can borrow.' He hands you the pile.
'Thank you so much.' You give John a warm smile and make a mental note to thank Mrs Hudson tomorrow. As you're heading to the bathroom, Sherlock emerges from his room and only just avoids walking into you. 'Apology accepted.' You whisper as you enter the bathroom.
You emerge nervously, just in Johns night shirt and underwear (thank God for girl boxers). Both of their heads snap to look at you and you blush furiously. You walk into the living room shyly and take a hesitant seat on the sofa letting the awkward silence get thicker. John's the first to break it.
'We're going down to the Fire Station to get information, we may be out for a while so don't wait up.' He avoids eye contact out of respect and follows Sherlock out of the door with a quick chirp of 'Cya later.'
'Bye.' You whisper as you hear the front door shut.
You let out an exasperated sound and look around for something to do. 'Ugh, this place is a mess.' You look around at the dishes and empty cartons of food. 'I have a few hours to kill, why not.' You grab you iPod from your handbag and play it full blast, dancing as you clean.
An hour passes and you get bored of cleaning. You flop down on the couch, pick up a random book and curl up, might as well give it a read. Ten minutes later your fast asleep with the book spread across your chest.
You wake up with a start, sitting up straight and gasping.
'Bad dream?' You turn to see Sherlock staring at you with his hands pressed together underneath his chin, his eye's burning into you already. Eye contact like this should be illegal this time in the morning.
'Just one of those falling dreams, y'know?'You slur, sleep distorting your voice.
'No.' And with that he stands up and stalks off to his room.
Your eyes follow him and you shake your head trying to clear it a little. You look at the clock, 2PM!? Why did no one wake me, you let your body slam back down on the sofa.
Even though its now afternoon, you do the usual morning ritual. Shower, brush teeth, apply the limited amount of make-up you have with you and get dressed. The one thing you cant do is get something to eat, there's nothing in! Screw this I'm going out for lunch, at that thought you jump to it but just before you leave Sherlock grabs you by the wrist.
'Where do you think you're going?' His voice cuts through you, his hand sending volts of electricity through you, your breath hitches and your eyes flicker from his hand to his eye's, they're pinning you in place. He releases your wrist when he notices your reaction.
You clear your throat.
'I was just going to get something to eat.' You whisper, unable to find your voice.
'There is someone out to kill you and you want to go get brunch?' You can taste the sarcasm in the air, you shrug your shoulders. 'John will bring something back after his shift at the surgery, until then you do not leave this flat.'
You just nod in reply and you remind yourself to breathe as he tears his eye's away from yours and marches off back to his room.
Sighing you flick on the TV and channel surf until you're certain that there is nothing on of importance. You throw the remote across the sofa and slouch back, turning your head to stare at Sherlock's bedroom door. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find yourself walking towards his door. You press your ear ever so gently to the cold wood. You can hear him, Pacing and mumbling to himself, something about not being able to think properly, you hear your name a few times too. Trying to get a better listen you press your ear closer to the door, accidentally pushing it open and stumbling onto his floor.
You stare wide eyed as his expression switches from confusion to fury in a tick. You rush to explain.
'I'm so sor-'
'Shut up!' He snaps. 'Don't even dare speak.' You press your mouth tightly together. 'Do you even realise what you're putting me through? Do you?!' He picks you up off of the floor and pushes you against the wall. You shake your head violently with fear and lust etched on your features. 'I can't think because of you! You're in my head constantly, you're ruining my concentration, driving me insane!' You realise what he's saying and you can practically feel your pupils dilating. Your breath goes shallow and your heart feels like its going to explode. He takes in your reaction and his eye's darken. 'You know what I want to do to you?' He growls as you let out a whimper. Pure want apparent in his eyes. Heat flares between your legs.
He lowers his mouth to your ear and speaks through his teeth. 'I want want kiss, lick and caress every inch of your body, I want to bite you until I brake the skin, leaving my mark. I want to tease you to the point that you're squirming beneath me, I want you begging me to fuck you and when I do, I want you screaming my name!' His breath is heavy on your neck and you moan. 'I want you bowing to my every whim.' You struggle for friction, so turned on it hurts.
You gasp as one of his hand comes up and wraps tightly around your hair, tugging hard, revealing your neck. He licks a line, painfully slow from your shoulder blade up to your ear making you emit sobs of need. 'I want to make you come so hard you wont be able to stand.' His deep baritone seduces your ears, making you quiver.
With what breath you have left, you whisper through clenched teeth.
'Do. It.'