Day 6
The handcuffs clinked gently as she fastened them. The muscles in his arms tightened at her feathery touches.
"Watson if you're going to treat me like fine China this will not be a useful exercise." He tilted his head back to look at her, she ignored the superiority in his blue eyes, stirring up the lack of certainty she had been feeling in the last couple of days into a furious level of competition. Ever since they had made their ridiculous bet he had been winning.
Briefly. Briefly. She had gotten the jump on him with the dress and the red heels.
"Fine." She muttered, kneeling behind him yet again, and pressing hard until they rested at least a click more snug than was comfortable. He groaned in pain and chuckled. "I just don't understand why this couldn't be done after lunch."
"Because an empty stomach means that your entire blood flow can be devoted to brain function and not digesting whatever lovely takeout gem we've ingested recently." She pressed in again and they clicked, possibly cutting off blood flow to his thumbs. "Something on your mind Watson?"
"Just musing." She said confidently, leaning forward until her lips were almost touching his earlobe. "This is the least interesting thing that we could do with handcuffs."
She felt him stiffen suddenly. Head remaining painfully erect, he barely breathed.
"Pardon—"
"You heard me." She was leaning so close the fine hairs above his ear ruffled slightly. Goose pimples broke out along his arms. "Or do you not like the idea of a woman being in charge?"
He whimpered out something indecipherable.
"What was that Sherlock— something on your mind?"
She stepped back and came around to face him— pupils blown wide, flushed and emotionless.
"Watson—" He hissed.
She shook her head and laughed. "We should have gone to lunch." Her eyes dropped meaningfully. "Looks like blood flow is no longer devoted to your brain function. Once you get free of those handcuffs, I'm thinking Thai."
Joan Watson turned to leave.
Triumph.
A low click behind her; she suddenly found herself thrown against the door.
"My dear Watson," He said into her ear, flipping her around and holding her against the smooth wood, his voice dropping into a low growl as it tended to when he was emotional about something. "I have several things on my mind at this moment— none of them requiring brain function and all including handcuffs."
He leaned forward and inhaled deeply. "My god woman you smell intoxicating." He leaned forward and brought his lips gently to the juncture of her chin and neck. This time it was she that whimpered.
Without warning he stepped backward and resumed his previous seat, handcuffs dangling between his fingers. "Opera tonight. Half seven.— try not to be late, you'll drive yes? I know how much you enjoy taking charge." He checked his watch and stood. "7.4 seconds, I do believe I broke my record— blood flow be damned."
this is my favorite chapter so far. It was the easiest to write because it felt like them.
Let me know what you think, and if you think i update too quickly or if i need to change my perception of them. And please please, continue with the prompts. I've done some fluffier chapters, so if you've got any more serious situations to throw my way please let me know :D
As always,
later days,
Red