Madison couldn't hear anything the next morning. She sat up slowly and looked around the room. Normally she would be able to hear the sound of honking horns from her apartment but there was nothing; nothing at all. And then she remembered she wasn't even in her own flat. Shaking her head, she placed both feet onto the floor, picking up the thin white sheet as she went, holding it to cover her front. She knew what she had done and she knew the every bone in her body had told her it was wrong. Turning her head to look over her shoulder she saw him sleeping on the mattress. His body was laid so peacefully it made Madison feel something in her stomach. He was breathing lightly and was sprawled out on the bed. She had slept with him. Now she had to face the consequences. She began to change back into her clothes quietly, not wanting to wake Sherlock. She placed her heels onto her feet quickly and grabbed onto her blazer jacket before walking back into the living room and picking up the bag she had brought and placed down. She dumped her discarded tights into the bag which were in the living room and then checked her reflection in the mirror before looking back down the corridor to where Sherlock still slept. She didn't go back and wake him as she moved down the steps of 221B and out onto Baker Street. People looked at her as she exited from the flat above the sandwich shop and she kept her head high, walking along the street in yesterday's clothes. She passed John on her way but managed not to be noticed by him until out of sight. Out of sight and into Moriarty.
...
"Did I just imagine that?" John asked Sherlock when he walked into his flat. The consulting detective had changed into his pyjamas and had stood at the net curtain, watching Madison walk down the street. He had not made a fuss when she had left for he did not want her to stay with him. Sherlock dropped the net curtain and looked at his friend with a raised brow.
"Did you imagine what?"
"I just passed Madison," John said. "And she looked a bit of a mess."
"Did she really?" Sherlock cocked a brow. "She must have wanted to leave in a hurry. Normally she doesn't go out without perfecting her face so she looks presentable."
"She left? You mean she was here?" John checked and then something dawned on him. "Sherlock...did you..."
"Try and finish off your sentence John," Sherlock drawled, jumping over his coffee table and picking up a glass before walking into the kitchen with it, filling it with water.
"I think you know what I want to ask," John spoke quietly and Sherlock downed the glass of water.
"I did sleep with her," Sherlock said and John shook his head, placing a hand onto his temple and rubbing it. "Fair to say that I got more action than you did with Sarah last night. Is the sofa not being kind to you?"
"Don't change the topic," John hissed. "Why did you that Sherlock?"
"Because it was the only way to get her to leave," Sherlock whispered, turning around and placing the glass into the sink and then moving back into the living room, taking the newspaper from John's hand which he had bought.
"I fail to even comprehend what goes on in your mind," John said. "I need the reason behind your actions."
"She slept with me John," Sherlock spoke slowly, like he would when speaking to a child. "And so because she did that she won't be able to kill me because she will realise she loves me."
"Will she?" John raised a brow. "Because that woman seems incapable of emotion."
"She's not," Sherlock shook his head. "Trust me. There is something about her John...she's not a normal person...I don't know what to think about her."
"You're playing with fire Sherlock." John warned his friend.
"I'm not anymore," Sherlock assured John. "She'll be out this country by tonight. Mark my words."
...
"I didn't think I was paying for you to sleep with Sherlock," Moriarty told Madison as they walked down the streets side by side. She was keeping her head up and looking him straight in the eye as they walked.
"It was a momentary lapse," she assured him.
"Are you sure?" Moriarty asked her and she nodded.
"Positive. It won't happen again. I'll have the job done soon."
"Really?" Moriarty continued to push her.
"Yes," she nodded.
"Good. Because it would be a shame to kill you for failing."
...
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