AN: Enjoy the first one of the two bonus tracks I've written for this universe. Hopefully it won't fall like a bag of bricks, since this piece (like the song it was inspired from), is probably the closest thing to a M rating due to sexual content that I've ever written. And then you are all going to be pissed and/or fall of your chairs laughing because it is so lame.
So enjoy? 'cringes';
As for my thanks, SerenityMoonlight, TheNightIsDark and Arlewena were kind enough to leave a review which brightened up my otherwise drab day. Thank you! :D
Also llLethell saw a previous version of this, but since then I've fiddled with it, so it's only partially beta-ed.
Rating: M - just to cover my bases.
Warning: fem!John (Joan Watson), seduction writing fail...
Disclaimer: I don't own the brilliance that is SHERLOCK and its characters, but I had a lot of fun playing in this particular sandbox.
Skin (bonus track)
Two months. He's been back for that long, yet they still aren't flat mates, because when the thrill of the chase is over and the case is solved Joan packs her things and goes to sleep back in her small flat.
Sherlock hates it, the silence that conquers 221B Baker Street in the exact moment she leaves through the door.
No one and nothing can be in her place. The skull has long lost its effectiveness as a suitable conversationalist the moment the good doctor had first moved in, and Mrs. Hudson had her own special place in his universe. And somehow, Joan leaving every night sets a ripple of discontent, like a broken wheel jamming the fine mechanism that should be his life.
It bears repeating, he hates seeing her turn around and leave, it feels like a slash across his heart every time she does it. Funny of how long he could have sworn he didn't have one, until his dark counterpart brought it in the open and forced him to reexamine his long held belief.
And now, his heart is leaving him every night.
But not tonight, he thinks and narrows his eyes as Joan reaches for her coat in silence, unconsciously slowing down her movement as if she's waiting for that one thing that can make her stay. She does this every time, but so far he has stayed silent.
He can tell she's already thinking about trivial things like the shopping she needs to do, when he unfolds from his seat and goes near her. He's so close that the heat radiating from him penetrates her clothes and sends a shiver all along her spine. His long, elegant fingers close over hers and delicately take away her coat.
"Sherlock?" She asks, softly and breathless. His right hand ghosts over hers, until he closes his fist over her wrist, and her pulse spikes. He comes closer, impossibly so, until her back is perfectly aligned with his front and his breath stirs the tiny hairs at the back of her neck. Then he dips lower, lips almost brushing the delicate shell of her left ear as he whispers: "Stay tonight."
Her knees almost turn to jelly and it's with considerable will power that she doesn't fall in an undignified heap at his feet. She moves her hand, grabs his and then brings their intertwined digits up until they can both gaze upon them.
The gold band on her engagement finger shines accusatory and Sherlock hisses like it burns where it touches his skin.
"Take that off," he demands, voice almost growling.
"It won't come off that easily," she answers, standing up to him.
Sherlock narrows his eyes, and then still holding her right hand he maneuvers them until they're standing face to face, with one arm possessively clutching her by her navel.
"He's never coming back." He says, tightening his grip.
"Yes, but going away doesn't always mean the end. You should know." She says each word almost as if they have to be pulled out of her mouth. She can barely keep her thoughts straight with him standing so close.
He changes his grip and brings the hand he has captured to his lips almost contemplatively, slowly kissing each knuckle, then gently he sucks her ring finger in his mouth, while she almost closes her eyes, thoughts scattered like a flock of scared pigeons. She never knew her fingers could be so sensitive, each wet caress sending a wave of heat all over her body that slowly pools in her belly.
She almost doesn't notice when he carefully clamps his teeth around her finger and with one slow pull, he drags the ring until it's off. He spits it down in his palm, and as Joan watches with arousal, incredulity and suspicion mixing inside her, for one moment Sherlock looks as if he wants to fling it at the wall. A heartbeat later she takes it away, tugging a little when he doesn't want to let go and carefully places the ring in her pocket.
They are frozen, still caught in that too close embrace he initiated, when he takes a deep breath, shifts his shoulders until the hug is no longer a show of dominance but of more affectionate possession and then he nuzzles her jaw. "See, that wasn't so difficult. Now, will you stay the night?"
Joan lets out a laugh that sounds almost as a sob, quickly aborted when he starts to place delicate kisses on her jaw while moving his way to the corner of her mouth. She doesn't have to say it out loud for both of them to know the truth, she could never really say NO to him.
TBC.
AN: When I wrote this piece some time ago, I didn't think that one day the show it's going to make canon the fact that Sherlock can, and will use seduction to get what he wants. Only in my verse it's not Jeanine, but someone in whom he has much more invested in, and who, in his mind must be tied to him in as many ways as humanly possible. So there...:D
Cheers,
Para
