Sophie put the last of the papers into a neat pile and looked around her as she inspected her handiwork, the flat was now spotless, every last inch had been dusted and everything put away in its proper place. The dishes that had been piling up for the last week were all washed and put away in the cupboards that were usually bare. Smiling she wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and looked down at her old t-shirt and sweatpants now covered in dirt, stripping off she tossed her clothes in the basket that was propped in the corner of the sitting room next to her folded duvet and pillows. John had been back for most of the week whilst Mary had been away working and she had been back on the sofa Sherlock using his bed most nights as he was low on cases and her back and neck were beginning to show the strain. Not that it mattered as she had spent most of her waking hours in the company of Mycroft ironing out the cracks in the British government. Sherlock had been avoiding her since their shopping trip as if he had exhausted all of his "niceness" in one fell swoop and now he had John back for his current case she was well and truly relegated to the bottom of the pile. She padded to the bathroom naked and turned on the taps in the shower seeing the steam instantly begin to rise around her as she brushed out her hair and made sure a towel was in reach; it was the first time she had had the flat to herself in a while and she was making the most of the peace and quiet. Her mind drifted to Sherlock as she washed the dust from her hair and face, his piercing blue eyes cold and difficult to read one minute he looked like he was softening and then he was back to his normal vacant self. He spent most of his week playing his violin, or putting dead body parts in the fridge; not to mention glued to his microscope or just moping around; he didn't engage in conversation, and she got the feeling he didn't like much having her around except for a few moments where it seemed he actually appreciated her more than he let on. Fortunately he was fond of John and respected his opinions either that or he felt guilty about the whole Irene Adler incident and that was the only reason she was beginning to suspect she was still here, sure that Sherlock would have forced her out by now despite showing her some nuggets of kindness. Shaking him from her mind she let the hot water stream over her skin rubbing it clean and managing to get round to shaving her legs for the first time in a week; stepping out she towelled her skin dry and hung the towel up to dry finding a hidden pair of her old black simple panties and slipping them on feeling the cool cotton grace her skin, grabbing her moisturiser she rubbed a layer over every part of visible skin feeling it beginning to soak in, she looked down at her clothes knowing she couldn't put them on yet and her eyes scanned the bathroom seeing his navy dressing gown on the back of the door, slipping it on she walked out into the living room and into the kitchen finding a glass and running the cold tap waiting for it to go ice cold before filling her glass sipping some and looking down at the kitchen table. Her eyes glanced over the photographs scattered on the table and she shuffled through them before walking back to the other end. In the middle sat a microscope a slide balanced on the platform, Sophie sat down on the stool the dressing gown falling open exposing her bare leg as she balanced on the high piece of furniture flicking the light on and looking down the eyepiece seeing a small chemical fizzing away, she frowned a little looking at the photos again and the answer came to her,
'Hmm interesting…' she said turning her eyes back to the microscope.
Sherlock jammed his hands into his pockets after turning up the collar of his coat against the cold snap in the city his mind whirring away a million miles a second as he tried to piece together the scraps of information from the case he was trying to solve. He tapped his fingers against his thigh as he walked fumbling to find his keys, finally he slipped them into the lock, he noted Mrs Hudson his landlady was out all the lights off in her flat and he made his way upstairs slipping his keys in the lock. Before he had opened the door he took a deep breath rolling his eyes,
'She has cleaned.' He said to himself under his breath. Every night now he spent tossing and turning until he got up trying to distract himself with work and now as he slammed the door to his bedroom he realised that wasn't going to work either, even Anderson laughed at him and he had had enough. He walked into his room looking around seeing it was untouched save for a pile of clean laundry balanced on his bed and some pieces of paper being placed next to them, he sighed audibly,
'John! John where is my notebook!' Sherlock hollered seeing it wasn't on his beside cabinet and he walked into the sitting room. Sophie changed the slide on the microscope the image confirming her suspicions, ignoring Sherlock as he continued to bellow into the apartment. Sherlock turned and walked towards the kitchen the door leading to the sitting room stopping dead as he saw Sophie sitting at the table her eyes peering down the microscope intently staring at whatever slide was on the plate. Sherlock flicked his eyes over her figure quickly before scanning the kitchen seeing the dishes put away the evidence of the rubbish having been taken out and the fridge filled with fresh food, all of his neatly organised photos had been swept into one pile, his logical thought order disrupted by the one meddling woman who was now sitting here in his dressing gown looking down his microscope. The thought annoyed him, having been the youngest child and a man who didn't share well, and he felt the wrinkle begin at the top of his nose.
'Where the hell have you put my things?' He said angrily he had been off beat all week and Sophie wasn't doing much to counter him apart from staying out of his way,
'You're welcome.' Sophie said not looking up, Sherlock paused, 'someone had to tidy up this shit hole.' She added looking up trying not to be instantly thrown off her stride by his striking unique face.
'No one asked you to touch anything!' he shouted his frustration being taken out in anger. Sophie watched him yank off his gloves tossing them on the table,
'Calm down everything is still here.' She said vaguely waving to the pile of photos, Sherlock thumbed through them not really believing her,
'They were all in an order.' He snapped again his low voice rumbling with anger.
'It didn't look that way to me, looked like chaos of someone who didn't know the answer.' Sophie replied despondently barely looking at him now, Sherlock paced along the end of the kitchen unbuttoning his long coat,
'Look I let you stay here because you are a friend of John's but even friends can overstay their welcome!' he hissed in a vicious way hoping the words hurt her enough to make her leave his home and his thoughts.
Sophie finally looked up raising an eyebrow as he stared at her his bright blue eyes narrowing as he looked at her,
'Don't throw a tantrum because you are frustrated, John might let you get away with sulking like a child but I won't, grow up Sherlock, you are a man not a socially retarded child for god's sake.' She said. Sherlock pushed past her jolting her as he hit her shoulder with his arm making her stool rock forcing her to grip the edge of the table righting herself. Sherlock pulled the fridge door open,
'If you have moved the fingers...' he began seeing they were still in the vegetable crisper box and stopping his sentence; he took the orange juice from the door, it was new, it hadn't been in there before he left, neither had the bread, milk, cheese, eggs, or the majority of the contents. Pouring himself a glass he slammed the fridge door hearing the bottles rattle, he turned leaning against the end of the table taking a slow drink before looking up at Sophie. That symmetrical face big aqua eyes now looking up at him framed by long lashes, her high cheekbones and a defined jaw, lastly her blonde hair falling around her face in drying waves, soft pink lips a perfect pout, not that it mattered…so why was he still staring.
'If you want me to leave…' She said standing up and turning to leave, Sherlock flipped her round and moved in her path effectively pinning her to the table,
'John would be furious, and that,' he pointed to the dressing gown, 'is mine.' Sophie looked down at the piece of navy cloth tired of playing this hot and cold game she forced the play, and so her hands moved to the sash untying it quickly, she looked him in the eye as she let it fall open,
'You can have it back.' She said handing it to him letting her arms fall back down by her sides her body now on full view the only thing covering her up was her underwear; Sherlock took it tossing it onto a chair.
'This isn't going to work. I don't find women attractive.' He said inches from her face not meaning a word. His blue eyes were cold and unfeeling as he didn't even look her up and down, he didn't make a move towards her, even his breathing was regular and slow, and nothing about his outward status had changed. Sophie smiled,
'That makes sense…I thought you and John…' she shrugged
'We aren't a couple.' Sherlock cut her off. Sophie pushed past him making her way to the other end of the kitchen stopping at the far end of the table and looking over her shoulder,
'Oh by the way, it was the step-daughter, really easy if you think about it.' She said knowing she would get a response.
'What?!' he said in the most offended voice he could manage his mind whirring around, he tried to hide his frank irritation when he realised she was right. Sophie pointed at the photo next to his hand, realising he had walked down the length of the kitchen in seconds looking down at the picture she was pointing at of the dead man the cause now obvious given the perfume molecules that were traced on the man's clothing, the matching of the pollen from the right area her childhood home that of her biological father the man who was the original suspect, the sample of her hair that didn't connect, the timing of the death was off and he had known it…but how had she?! Sherlock narrowed his eyes clearly putting everything together. Sherlock moved so fast Sophie barely had time to move her head as the tall lithe man walked in front of her.
Sherlock slammed the glass down on the table some of the juice slopping out over the edge as he pinned her in with his arms,
'I thought you didn't find women attractive?' Sophie said trying not to smile seeing Sherlock was only a couple of inches from her face looking down his nose at her.
'How?! Just tell me how…' Sophie rolled her eyes knowing it was killing him that she got there first,
'It's so simple can't believe you didn't get this one. You were missing the vital piece of information that slide, that chemical that's reacting it's not poison, its insulin. The step-daughter, the type one diabetic killed him with insulin, injected it into him when he tried to sleep with her. She told him it was a drug, we know he was an addict right, well hand him a syringe, get him to inject insulin into his system and no one would ever know. The perfect crime, except he had bad veins and some leaked out into the tissues, that's why it wouldn't react with any reagents.' Sherlock stood there with his mouth open as she teased him,
'But she wasn't there…' he said,
'The man died an hour later, and she wasn't there by then…so of course its not a poison therefore the delayed onset means she had time to get an alibi.' She said, 'now excuse me I'm a little cold…being naked and all…' she said trying to move. Sherlock stood his ground looking her up and down leaning in, Sophie tilted her head down feeling his lips brush her ear a first so soft that she could have sworn she imagined it, she frowned slightly as she saw a distinctive bulge in his tight black suit trousers not even sure that his penis even had that particular function anymore; her eyes darted up to his scanning up his dark purple shirt seeing his breathing had now quickened giving him away his dilated pupils now boring into hers.
'God all this turns you on doesn't it, you are a freak just like she said…' she said,
'It has nothing whatsoever to do with the case, although I must admit I find like minded intellects stimulating.' He said meaning every word. Sherlock had had enough of ignoring what was happening to him and if taking what his body needed so that his mind would become clear again then it had to be done and he found he was looking forward to it.
'Really well to quote you, "I don't find women attractive".' She said trying to imitate his voice,
'I don't, you didn't listen, women, I don't find women attractive…' he repeated fighting the urge to roll his eyes; Sophie stared back at him licking her lips as she felt his breath on them, she glanced down at his lips pale and matching with his skin tone a stark contrast to his dark curls adorning his head. Reaching up she ran her fingers through it feeling him push forwards grabbing her hips and pulling her into his body kissing her hungrily as if he had never tasted another person's lips. Sherlock deepened the kiss his tongue flicking into Sophie's receptive mouth as she tilted her head, the feeling was warm and wet, but not altogether unpleasant; let alone what it was doing for areas below his belt. Sherlock had always been mostly asexual but since this woman had arrived his dreams that always consisted of formulas and ideas readily flicked to this woman. Leaning her back he pushed the papers from the table not caring as they bore no relevance anymore the case solved; he could feel her experienced fingers working on his buttons getting them open in a matter of moments pulling his shirt from his trousers and running her fingers down his toned hairy chest. Sherlock moved his long fingers down her sides as she lent back on the table pulling him with her her hands working on his belt undoing it and pushing his trousers to the floor with his black underwear; he peeled Sophie's underwear from her skin lifting her legs around his waist making her almost fall back onto the table. Sophie wrapped her legs around his hips feeling the dark wool coat fall over them her back arching as she ran her hands down Sherlock's body his lips and teeth now assaulting her neck kissing and biting her soft skin until she let out a low groan her hips pressing into his like a enthusiastic teenager, her wetness mixing with his as he rubbed against her. She couldn't take it any longer and she looked into his eyes,
'Sherlock…' she whispered, he looked down at her the look in her eyes completely changed, he recognised it as lust and he felt a shiver of electricity flow through him making him harder than he already was.
In a swift movement he entered her pushing her up the table one hand gripping her thigh the other cupping her soft breast feeling her nipple stiffen under his thumb as he felt a noise evaporate from his throat coming out like a stifled high pitched grunt come moan. He pushed again feeling the contours of her body rise to meet his their stomachs pressing together making the heat intensify; Sophie gripped the edge of the table with one hand as Sherlock filled her with his length in every thrust making her body writhe beneath him, she could feel his teeth attack her neck again as she gripped his hair with another hand before sliding it down his back feeling the roughness of the coat tucking it inside and finding his hip holding it guiding him and using him to anchor herself to the unsteady surface.
'Harder…' she moaned as she kissed his lips feeling their teeth clash the sweat beginning to pour off of his body from the heat of the layers he was still wearing.
'Mmm ngh…ahhh…' was all he managed in reply quickening his pace and his force until she was clawing at his lower back, Sophie reached one hand up feeling it hit the microscope gripping the base for something to dig her fingers into, shortly after she felt Sherlock's hand take it's place his fingers entwining in hers as he pushed the last few times,
'Look…at…me…' he stuttered, Sophie did as commanded her eyes connecting with his her teeth now gritted as she tried to breathe but failed.
'Fuck…Sh…Sher…shit…' she said as she came reaching down and gripping his tight ass pushing him in one last time feeling his release.
'God…' he groaned his deep voice reverberating in her ears as his head lay close to hers his body spent as he lent down on her in a heavy weight. Sherlock felt his breath return to his body and he looked down at the woman beneath him her eyes still closed, one hand resting on her chest the other still tucked on his back. Moving that hand to the table he stood up extricating himself from inside her and pulling up his trousers shrugging off his thick and heavy coat examining her body seeing the red marks at the base of her neck and along her collar bone. Sophie felt his body move and she opened her eyes sitting up a little scarcely breathing, leaning forward he moved her hair from her shoulder before he traced his thumb pad across the red marks stroking them,
'I need to know what bruises form in the next two hours.' He said his voice now showing none of its previous emotion. As he began to move away Sophie grabbed his hand,
'Are you fucking kidding me! If I was an experiment that will be the last time you ever have sex! Ever!' she shouted angry and passionate at the same time. Sherlock continued to button up his shirt glancing up at her,
'Hmm…I don't do this other stuff…these you know feelings…it just makes you weaker.' He said matter-of-factly. Sophie's eyes blazed with anger,
'How is this for weak!' she screamed slapping him with all her force seeing his head career to the right at the force; standing up she pushed him, in the daze he stumbled backwards and she stormed past him picking up her clothes and storming into John's bedroom, yanking them on she continued to storm out of the flat glad she could actually still walk before making her way out onto the street. Sophie turned her head not knowing why, catching sight of Sherlock at the window looking after her as she made her way towards the tube; in a fit of anger she flipped her middle finger up at him before turning and walking away,
'If he wants to be alone then that's what he will get, selfish bastard…' she mumbled vowing never again to fall for the detectives charms.
An Apology
Sherlock scanned the laptop in front of him frowning before jabbing at the screen again with his dirty fingers running it down to the line he had gotten too,
'Almonds…I didn't buy almonds! Stupid thing.' He said at the screen, 'fine no almonds…apricots…I have those…chop finely.' To this instruction he proceeded to half them and tossed them into the bubbling pot poking it with the spatula. Sherlock didn't cook, but it was surely chemistry right…nothing too it, just follow the instructions, however he came to find as he strolled around the market that he didn't know what half of the ingredients were or where to buy them and on returning home have the right pot to cook the tagine in; so here he was cooking in a pan too small with only two thirds of the correct ingredients and it was beginning to look like it was burning to the bottom of the pan. It had been seven hours since Sophie had stormed out of the flat, no one had visited his website, no one had come round to tell him about a suspicious death, he had realised John was not at home and he had watched all of the terrible daytime television he could handle. So on a whim he had asked Mrs Hudson what people did to apologise if they had upset someone, she had suggested cooking dinner; there was a twinkle in her eye when she realised it was for a woman, the woman who had been staying for the past few weeks. Martha Hudson liked the new visitor it gave her someone to talk to and to bake for that actually appreciated her efforts, she kept the flat clean, stopped the boys bickering and Sherlock wanted to apologise to her, which meant for once he realised he had done something wrong. She had given him her best apron and a cook book and sent him on his way; Sherlock had tossed aside the old fashioned book in favour of something different; he was an observant man but he didn't observe what he didn't need to, what people liked what they enjoyed wasn't important…or interesting. He sat looking at Sophie's suitcase wondering whether he could look through it but decided against it and tried to think. He finally decided she didn't like pork and liked spiced cooking, hence the tagine, and the mess.
'Damn!' he said as he had drifted off again noting that the pot was bubbling over. Moving it from the heat he tasted it pulling a face, 'ugh…' he said putting a lid on and moving it to the back of the cooker. He pulled his microscope down to one end of the table and unfolded some fabric mats - also lent to him - and put some clean cutlery down with two glasses placing a wine glass in her spot and nothing in his. Checking his watch he saw it was already seven and the sun was beginning to set, 'where is she?' he said to the empty flat pacing up and down a few times looking at the front door, then out the window, finally back to the kitchen tossing the lettuce into a bowl whole and stacking some tomatoes and a whole cucumber next to it not realising it should be presented.
Sophie sat down on the park bench scoffing down her second packet of monster munch contemplating how dark it would have to be before she went home. She couldn't get the morning's events out of her head and now she felt not only used but disgusted with herself for being played for a fool. She shouldn't have let Sherlock use her when she knew he didn't really want to sleep with her, she should have known it was for a case and she was tricked by her evolving feelings for the cold detective. She took out her phone checking the screen, realising that Sherlock wouldn't call. She thought about calling one of her friends but there was no one else in this city she could stay with, she hadn't spent long in London in total and apart from John she didn't have many more close friends. Sighing she got up, now tired cold and stiff she made her way back to the bus stop climbing on the 74 from Hyde Park to Baker Street and finding a seat on the top deck taking out her phone and scrolling to her favourite game - scrabble - logging in and settling in for the thirty minute journey almost missing her stop as she became so absorbed. She placed her keys in the lock of 221B Baker Street and paused before turning it and making her way inside, she paused in the hallway picking up the post and sifting through it balancing some on Mrs Hudson's door handle before making her way upstairs. As she got closer to the flat she could smell something wafting from inside; something nice mixed with a tinge of burning. Walking inside she heard the individual notes of a violin being plucked in a nonsensical order; making her way into the living room seeing Sherlock sitting in his armchair his violin perched on his chest his eyes staring into space as he played the notes with his fingers. She made her way into the kitchen looking at the pile of dishes in the sink and the empty pots and pans on the side, one pan on the cooker and a wealth of used and unused ingredients on the counter top John's laptop perched amongst them. Sophie rescued the computer closing it and placing it on the table before turning her attentions back to the cooker sweeping all the rubbish into the bin and running the hot tap filling the bowl with soapy water doing the majority of the dishes laying them out onto the draining board, wiping her hands she looked at the bottle of red wine on the table perched next to the now drying lettuce and cucumber, she uncorked it and poured herself a glass seeing he hadn't put a glass out for himself. Sophie walked to the chair opposite him and sat down the action of her doing so jolting him out of his trance,
'Welcome back.' She said seeing him shake his head before looking at his watch,
'You were supposed to be home two hours ago.' He said standing up picking up the laptop from the table not registering the kitchen was now clean.
'I stormed out, I know you don't know much about women but when they storm out generally they don't make set times for dinner dates.' Sophie retorted.
'I made you dinner.' He said, Sophie looked over her shoulder seeing he was lifting the pan lid and frowning,
'I noted…although…I don't know if it would have been edible.' She added hearing him drop the pan lid, 'and I already ate.'
'So I see…been at the monster munch again.' He said causing her to just roll her eyes; she got up finding an old t-shirt,
'I'm going to bed.' She began to walk past him but he stopped her holding the top of her arm gently and looking down at her seeing her look up at him her eyes angry, 'I said I am going to bed.' She repeated trying to remove his hand; Sherlock went to move the collar of her leather jacket to look at her neck feeling her retract. 'Find another guinea pig.' She finished walking away.
Sophie put the finishing touches to her make up and looked at herself in the mirror putting the final coat of red lipstick on before stepping into her black dress and zipping it up adjusting it so it covered everything, she lent forwards rubbing some more concealer onto her neck covering up the marks Sherlock left behind and made her way out into the sitting room seeing Sherlock watching his usual staple of bad TV. He inhaled as she walked in her heavy scent filling the room instantly getting his attention and he turned his head as she pulled her shoes on and dropped some things into a small handbag,
'Where are you going?' he asked narrowing his eyes,
'Out.' Came the single syllable reply,
'Out with whom?' he asked again getting more impatient.
'A friend.'
'A male friend?' he said,
'Are you jealous?' she said amused seeing him become annoyed,
'Why would I be jealous of you?!' he spat, Sophie shrugged,
'Well in that case, I am going out with a man, on a date. I wouldn't expect you to understand; its something that normal people do, people who function in society, unlike you.' She said, Sophie knew this was an unnecessary dig at him and she could see it wound him a little but she shrugged on her coat regardless, 'don't wait up.' She had lined up this date a week ago and she would be damned if a one night stand with a consulting detective was going to kibosh it.
'Where are you going?' he asked again, Sophie rolled her eyes before swinging her bag over her shoulder and walking out of the flat making her way outside seeing the cab waiting for her a man inside. He stepped out holding the door open for her dressed in a smart shirt and jeans, leaning in he helped her inside before walking round and getting in the other side; Sophie looked up at the window seeing the curtains twitch.
'Hi I'm Sophie.' She introduced herself as the cab whisked them off,
'Hi Sophie I'm David, so how do you know John?' he asked smiling at her. The girl was cute and from what John had told him about her she seemed to have a nice personality,
'I went to school with him and then we spent some time in the army together, he was the doctor and I was the analyst, we spent some good times behind the lines and some not so good times in the heat of it.' She said,
'Wow, that's intense.' David said, 'so what do you do now?' he asked,
'They pulled me back from the front line, I can speak about nine languages and they said they needed me to assess all of the intel they get back in and plan operations, so I basically spend my day at a desk planning how to win the war…badly it seems.' She said shrugging telling him a small lie without breaking the official secrets act.
'I'm sure they'd be further up shit creek without you.' He said looking out of the window as the cab stopped and opened her door helping her out of the car and paying the driver.
Greg Lestrade pulled out his phone,
'I need your help.' He said as Sherlock picked up,
'Where?' he asked simply as he began to find his coat pulling it on and taking his keys his scarf in his pocket.
'186 North Gower Street.' Greg replied hearing Sherlock hang up,
'Frith Street please, Chaing Mai, and then we will need to go to North Gower Street.' Sherlock said taking out his phone and scrolling through it cursing himself for not getting her number. He had a case, and he needed an assistant, he wouldn't pick his brother, Molly he would need later and he wouldn't work with Anderson, with John being away the most sensible solution was Sophie, so Sophie it was. Sherlock tapped his fingers on his thigh his sign of impatience, he was excited about the new case and going to pick up Sophie was a waste of his valuable time. The taxi pulled up in front of the restaurant and he stepped out closing the door telling the man to wait before making his way into the restaurant,
'May I help you?' the woman near the door asked, 'a table for…two?' she added,
'I am looking for a woman.' He said pushing past her and looking around the small upstairs dining area seeing it empty, frowning he huffed and made to go to the stairs seeing the woman again at his side,
'Excuse me sir but if you don't have a reservation.' she tried to say seeing Sherlock wave her away as he jogged down the stairs into the bottom of the restaurant glancing around until he saw her. He stopped for a moment watching her deep in conversation with the man opposite her her eyes alive and her hands animated as she explained a story, she had a happiness to her that he didn't quite understand. Rolling his eyes he made his way towards her seeing her look up as he got closer her face changing to annoyance as she clocked him her defensive wall building in an instant.
'What are you doing here?' she snapped her date turning round frowning as the man lent down.
'I need you now.' Sherlock said as if nothing else mattered,
'I'm on a date...sorry about this.' she apologised to David seeing him waft his hand indicating it was okay,
'Hurry up come with me.' He said looking at her vacant expression. Sophie pulled him to one side hissing at him so she couldn't be overheard.
'You had better be kidding me!' she said sternly seeing him look confused, 'I am not going anywhere with you, is it not bad enough what you have put me through since I moved in now you want to ruin my chance at a good night out.'
'I have a case and John isn't here.' Sherlock claimed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
'Like I give a flying fuck what you have to do right now, piss off and leave me alone!' she said going back to her table. Sherlock stood there for a moment watching her seeing her look back up at him before looking at his watch, she lent over the table, 'David I am so sorry, he is a little bit how can I put this nicely...special...his friend is away and he needs my help would you mind if we postpone to another night otherwise he just won't leave?' she said sympathetically, David glanced over his shoulder and looked Sherlock up and down before taking her hand,
'It's fine, we can finish this another day when your friend isn't having a crisis, I understand...will you be okay with him or shall I come?' he asked.
'No I will be fine thanks call me.' She said knowing it would be a fat chance of him doing so thanks to Sherlock. Picking up her coat she pulled it on making her way outside and sitting in the taxi waiting for him not looking at him when she felt the weight in the seat keeping her eyes trained out of the window as the car pulled away.
Sophie let the silence spread in the car as Sherlock checked his phone looking through the pictures Greg had emailed him hmming and ahhing making what sounded like noises of deduction.
'I was having a perfectly nice time in case you were wondering.' Sophie said after ten minutes of watching central London pass her by as the taxi head northward.
'Hmm…' was the reply that she received, rolling her eyes,
'Do I have to be naked to get your attention?' she sighed,
'Hmm…' he replied again in a different tone. Sophie ran her hand down his arm making his eyes flick away from his phone for a moment looking at her manicured hand before frowning looking up at her seeing her blue eyes staring into his full of something he didn't quite recognise, lust, passion, anger…maybe disappointment…sentiment…that was it,
'Sentiment? Interesting.' He said,
'Everything is always interesting with you; you can't just let something be, let it happen. Spontaneity is amazing if you just embraced it.' She tried seeing him glaze over a little. 'Oh and you're gone again.'
'I think you should know my work comes first.'
'A blind person could see that!' she snapped again annoyed at his lack of any emotion. 'You know what yesterday when we were together,' Sherlock raised an eyebrow, 'when we had sex, when you fucked me on the table…you remember that tiny detail don't you?!' he gave a curt nod, 'for once you were human, you had one feeling. I don't know if it scared you but I know you enjoyed it, that there was something more than finding out about bruising patterns.' She said,
'Well…I…uh…' he said finding no answers. Sophie was on a roll,
'I know you cry, you get angry, you get sad, I know that solving a case makes your heart beat faster. The same way I know you admire, like my mind…and you liked my body.' She said,
'Why are you saying this?' he said confused, 'it doesn't matter.'
'It does to me!' she sighed shaking her head, 'kiss me.' Sherlock curled the edge of his lip in confusion,
'Why?' he asked,
'Because if you don't I am stopping this taxi and I am getting out.' She argued. Sherlock rolled his eyes leaning forwards and kissing her on the cheek going to pull back feeling her cool hand on his face cupping his cheek softly, with a tenderness that he wasn't used to, no one had shown him much in the way of love, especially not tactile love. He went to recoil but found he didn't have the movement in him so he stayed still letting her fingers stroke his pale cheek his smooth skin flushing a little under the touch. Sophie let her thumb trail across his bottom lip and down over his chin pulling his face closer leaning hers in tilting it slightly to gain the perfect position in which to kiss him; she licked her lips feeling the breath on her lips from the closeness of his face. Firstly she kissed his chin and then his top lip and his deep filtrum before placing her lips over his bottom full pout letting them mix together; her fingers tangled in his dark curly hair as she felt his body stiffen a little before relaxing as she let her tongue flick out finding his lips. She traced the wetness across his dry lips feeling his eyelashes flick onto her cheeks as his eyes involuntarily closed his head beginning to lull to one side as he pressed his lips to hers. Sophie increased the pressure of her tongue feeling it slip between his lips first finding his teeth feeling them part as Sherlock's tongue moved between them; the first proper taste of him was phenomenal blowing her mind as she felt the wet muscular organ mix with hers an involuntary soft moan leaving his throat. Sophie became a little more bold running her fingers down to his neck gripping it her other hand moving to his thigh resting on it feeling his weight shift, her tongue found his as his pressed against hers mixing with an intense heat, she felt his chest rise and fall as he needed to take a breath the warm air blowing down her cheek; Sherlock felt his body warm from his toes to the hair on his head as the woman in front of him let her tongue play with his in a slightly strange way, a way he couldn't help but to reciprocate moving his tongue in opposing movements feeling her become more enthusiastic her hand moving to his neck another touching his thigh. The pressure of her fingertips making him shudder a little his leg tensing without thought as he shifted his hips so her fingers trailed down the inside, a sensitive area that had never really given any feedback. He realised he should do something with his hands that were still currently folded in his lap but as soon as he went to move them her lips were leaving his her head dipping as she tried to catch her breath. Sherlock felt her burning forehead against his lips and they kissed it softly; Sophie squeezed his thigh glancing up at his eyes seeing them flicker heavy-lidded closed a little his lips parting as he sucked some air in, he licked his lips feeling his trousers tighten,
'Again…' he whispered in a hoarse voice.
The cab driver tapped on the window as Sherlock lent in again,
'North Gower Street.' He said making Sherlock realise they were stationary, he turned back to Sophie realising she was already climbing past him onto the pavement pulling her cardigan around her shoulders realising the air had gone cold in contrast to the heat in her body. Sherlock stumbled from the car in a daze passing the driver a fifty pound note forgetting his change; Sophie took the ten pounds and slipped it into his trouser pocket, the tension of his trousers over his still semi-erect penis made him shift a little. His hands went to Sophie's waist his long fingers wrapping around them reaching her hips as his body moved towards hers; the blue and red flashing lights reflecting off of her face as the light began to fall from the sky as the night truly set in.
'I can't believe I am saying this but you need to get your head in the game. You didn't interrupt my first night out in a year for this…so,' she looked back into his eyes, 'it's your turn to turn me on…go on impress a girl.' She said nodding towards the crime scene and Sherlock smiled. Sherlock made his way towards the crime scene seeing his least favourite policewoman on the other side of the gaudy police tape,
'Back for some more freak?' PC Sally Donovan said, Sherlock frowned he didn't like being made fun of and as many times as the police force and the British government denied it they needed him, it would have been nice to get some recognition. 'Well, well a woman…who knew. We all thought you and John were at it like rabbits…' she said heavy sarcasm dripping in her voice. 'You know I wouldn't spend too much time around him if I were you he's mental this one.' She said her London accent obvious. Sophie smiled at the woman sweetly before taking Sherlock's hand,
'I am not going to take the advice of a woman who can't save her own relationship, marriage on the rocks I see…and having an affair at work...' she said, the forensic man looked up, 'not with you dear…well not all of the time.' Sophie said raising her eyebrow glancing over at Anderson. Sherlock snorted a laugh from next to her smiling a little before Sophie pulled him over the line,
'How did you know about the other man?' he said,
'Do I have to tell you?' she said seeing him smile,
'Brilliant.' He said realising they were on the same wavelength. Sophie felt Sherlock squeeze her hand a little before letting go making his way into the thin tall terraced house, 'Lestrade.' He called out,
'Fourth floor.' They heard the voice reply, 'lifts broken.' It added.
'Looks like we are walking.' Sherlock said making his way to the stairs.
Sophie looked around her as she entered the flat; the first thing that hit her was the smell. It was like acid in her lungs and it made her eyes water at the fumes hanging thick and heavy in the air; taking her shawl she held it to her nose seeing Sherlock cover his with his coat sleeve as he made his way into the flat. It was a familiar smell but she couldn't place it until she looked around her. At first it looked as if the flat was owned by an eccentric scientist, not unlike the one she lived with currently; on closer inspection she noted subtle differences. In the fireplace in the hallway sat a stuffed terrier baring its teeth to any who entered, a woodpecker in a glass case sat on the coffee table; shelves lined the walls crammed with glass jars full of a yellowish liquid inside them varying animals and body parts from humans and other creatures it seemed, now pickled suspended as they died.
'God…' she said to herself as she looked at the vast collection in awe before joining Sherlock in the kitchen. There tied to the table in a spread-eagled fashion was a naked man his face downwards in what could only be described as a cat's milk bowl his hands bound in front and underneath his body the cord running down between his legs tied to his feet and this rope held down by another that went around the table. Sophie gasped a little knowing that people did strange things in their own homes but seeing it there in front of her for all to view was still a shock.
'How are you?' Lestrade asked making Sophie jump, and she felt Sherlock walk over to her possessively,
'She's with me.' He said placing his hand on her shoulder,
'I'm here to help apparently.' She added sarcastically, 'although I don't know how much help I will be.'
'Well I don't know about that.' Sherlock said, 'let's see.' He said motioning to the body on the table, 'tell me, how did he die?' He said. Sophie bit her lip a little as she thought her nose now used to the smell she bent closer inspecting the man's body,
'No sign of a struggle, these ropes he could have tied himself but as he went to struggle they tightened. Means he was trying to untie himself…maybe to get some help, maybe he was choking or something. From this position if he landed incorrectly he could have suffocated.' She said,
'But did he?' Sherlock asked. Sophie bent looking at his face,
'No. He was breathing until the point he died…he…vomited.' She said mostly to herself, 'could have choked on it.'
'Did he?' Sherlock asked again now sitting in an armchair tapping into his phone.
'No…it was almost at the point of death, not before…and this liquid.'
'Formaldehyde.' Lestrade said,
'Would have poisoned him instantly, any more than a few drops ingested will kill a man but he didn't put it there…he didn't intend to kill himself else why would he have tied himself up like this? Just drink straight from the bottle. But no one touched him, forced him to drink.' She mused,
'They didn't have to.' Sherlock added getting up. 'Look around you, you know this man.' Sherlock said, Sophie noted the awards, the magazines with his name on them,
'Of course Alan Reed the biochemist most famous for cell manipulation, trying to reverse the ageing process stop mutations of cells close to curing cancer, but who would want to kill him?' she asked,
'The man who was about to rid the world of age…surely that would create some jealousy, some rivals in the field.' He said pulling up his coat collar, 'Lestrade I need a list of his colleagues, his friends, lovers anyone who was connected to him in the last two years.' He said, 'text me when you have them good evening.' He said walking out. Sophie frowned bemused,
'Uh is he usually like this at work?' she said,
'The interpersonal skills of a gnat? Yes.' Greg said, 'you better go or he'll be gone.' He added. Sophie rolled her eyes making her way outside seeing that Sherlock had indeed vanished.
'For fucks sake!' she said to herself before sighing and making her way to the main road; glancing to her left and right she tried to find a taxi, just as one began to pull towards the pavement she felt a hand on her shoulder, 'finally.' She said turning round, as soon a she did she felt another man place a hand over her mouth as the first dragged her into an alleyway bundling her into the back of a van the world going black as the second hit her on the temple.
