After their lunch, and John's return back to the clinic, Sherlock and Natasha went back to Baker Street. A quick text from Lestrade verified that the counterfeit gang would be apprehended and charged based on the evidence Sherlock had saved. Good news.
All in all, Sherlock was in a fantastic mood. Apparently Natasha was too, because they barely made it into the flat before she pounced. Unlike previous times, Sherlock fought her for control once they made it to the bedroom. It made for an exhilarating experience.
They spent the rest of the day talking and sitting in companionable silence. Sherlock took out the violin after they returned from a very late dinner. An hour of playing for her prompted another pounce.
Eventually, they'd fallen asleep amidst tangled sheets, not to wake until late morning. When his eyes finally opened, Sherlock still had his arm wrapped around her. Curious. He took a second to study her face, and then leaned in to kiss her softly.
Natasha pressed herself closer with a drowsy moan. "Mmm, morning," she muttered against his lips.
"We overslept." Sherlock said, slipping a hand into her messy red hair. "Want to solve crimes today?"
"I do." Natasha opened her eyes halfway and shifted drowsily so that she was half draped over his body, faces close enough that their noses bumped against each other. "Breakfast first?"
"Probably." Sherlock said, running a gentle hand up her side. Funny how naturally these sorts of interactions came about, he put that away to think about later. He tilted his head and kissed her, starting out slow but deepening as he held her close. A moment later he broke it again and smiled. "You'll have to get off of me though."
"I'm not sure I want to after a kiss like that," Natasha stole another quick kiss and reluctantly left the warmth of Sherlock's arms and bed, raking her fingers through her hair. She snagged his maroon dressing gown from behind the door. "Mind if I borrow?"
"All yours." Sherlock said, propping himself up on his elbows as he studied her. He pushed himself up a moment later to crawl out of bed himself. "Hand me the blue one." He asked as he headed for the dresser to find a pair of pants.
Natasha tied the belt around her waist and carried the blue dressing gown over to him, unabashedly sweeping her eyes over him in clear appreciation. "Coffee?"
"Appreciated." Sherlock said, seemingly unaffected by her once over, like he didn't even notice. He took the gown and threw it over his barely clothed body, not bothering to tie it. He snagged his phone from the bedside table and then followed her out to the kitchen. Ruffling his hair with one hand, while the other scrolled through emails on his phone, he leaned against the counter.
Natasha left the coffee to brew and retrieved her phone from where she'd left it counter the night before. There was only one text, but it was one she'd expected to receive later in the day. Need you to come in as soon as possible. -Clint
"Any interesting cases?" She asked while she read it over, mentally divvying up the rest of the day. She set the phone down and stood in front of Sherlock, lifting herself up on tiptoe to peek at the screen of his phone. "Anything above a five?"
"One…maybe." Sherlock said, fingers flying over the keyboard as he sent off a reply to that one. "There's six I can solve from here." He said, "and two that aren't worth my time. Maybe Lestrade will call."
"Maybe." Natasha lowered herself to the floor and placed her hands on her hips while she waited. "Does that mean you can spare an hour?"
"Perhaps, I need to type out the solutions to the email problems, but that can wait until I get a reply back from this one…" Sherlock said, finally lowering the phone and fixing her with a slightly confused look. "Why? Did you have a case for me instead?"
"Not a case." Natasha gently took his phone out of his hand and set it down on the counter beside him, moving in close and lifting herself up on tiptoe once more. Her arms wound around him beneath his blue robe. "But I suppose I could make a game of it for you."
"Oh? Oh." His understanding was quick, and his hands made themselves comfortable on her hips. He studied her face, blinking a couple times as he made a decision. "Or…I could just pin you against the wall, been meaning to try that."
"You could." Natasha caught his lips in a kiss that started out slow but quickly grew passionate enough that she had to pull back to draw a breath. "Pick a wall," she whispered urgently.
Sherlock leaned down again, catching her lips in a kiss as he steered them towards the hallway. He pressed her against the wall, his lips moving from hers down her neck and his hands moved over her silk dressing gown wrapped form.
Natasha tipped her head back and closed her eyes, both her hands sinking into his soft curls. Thoroughly distracted as she was, fine Italian leather shoes coming up the stairs didn't even register.
Mycroft Holmes wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he'd let himself inside his brother's flat, but finding him in the arms of a woman who'd made a name for herself as a Black Widow was decidedly not it. In retrospect, it should've been perfectly obvious to him that if his brother were ever to engage in such an… activity, it would be with someone like Natasha Romanoff. Clever enough to keep up. Intriguing enough to keep him entertained. And of course, he trusted her. It made perfect sense.
It didn't, however, make the situation any less awkward. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, still looking dignified as ever in his three-piece suit while grasping the handle of his umbrella in both hands. "I should've called."
Mood effectively ruined, Sherlock stopped his ministrations on the soft skin of her neck with a sharp exhale. He took one more breath in and met Natasha's eyes before straightening up and extracting himself from his compromising position. He ruffled his hair and drew the dressing gown around himself as he stared his brother down. "Good to see you, brother mine. I trust you've learnt your lesson for next time."
Mycroft straightened to his full height and met his brother's stare with a sarcastic smile. "If there is a lesson here, it's certainly not for me," he retorted.
Natasha fixed and straightened her dressing gown before moving around Sherlock towards the coffee maker. "Mycroft Holmes," she greeted along the way. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but right now it feels like exactly the opposite."
"I'm sure." Mycroft spared the briefest of glances her way, eyes narrowing briefly while attempting deductions. "I came to discuss our previous agreement, Sherlock," he told his brother. "I trust you and your... friend have had time to talk aside from defiling the walls of your flat?"
"Naturally." Sherlock said, crossing his arms. "She's due to leave soon, so if you wanted to discuss it with her yourself, she is in the room."
"I'll save you the trouble," Natasha told Mycroft. "No, I won't work for you on a regular basis. No, I don't want whatever deal you're offering. And no, I will not spy on your brother for you." She turned to open a cupboard, retrieving two mugs for coffee from its depths.
Mycroft looked from his brother to Natasha, clearly hoping for a little help. "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."
"The only arrangement I'll come to is a case to case evaluation of whatever missions you had in mind for me," she retorted. "If they're interesting and within reason, I might consider taking them on. Other than that, my answer stands." She set the mugs down on the counter and met his eyes. "How's that?"
"Not what I was hoping for." Mycroft debated the merits and downfalls or issuing a subtle threat. "Considering your situation across the pond."
"A situation she is more than capable of handling." Sherlock replied, moving in to grab the sugar from the pantry. "I do hope you were not planning on threatening her, you'll likely find that embarrassing…and dangerous. As for the missions, you can find the ones that might interest us both. I've been meaning to step up my involvement with MI6 to fill the time between cases."
Natasha opened a drawer to take out a spoon and pointed it at Mycroft. "I second that idea," she informed him. "Missions that interest us both. Maybe just make a list for us. We can go over it together the next time I fly over for a visit."
Mycroft pressed his lips together and tapped his umbrella once on the floor. "Fine," he replied, though clearly it wasn't. "Evidently I'll be getting nowhere with the two of you, and I'd rather avoid a broken limb... or worse." He fixed his eyes on his brother. "Will you be working today? I did have one other thing to speak to you about. More of a favor, but I'm sure you'll find it interesting."
Sherlock raised a brow and leaned against the counter. "I've got one case that might be interesting, and experiments to conduct." He said impassively. "As for your 'interesting' favor….I'll hear you out. Now or am I to make an appointment?"
"Yes, I'm sure you have other... business to attend to." Mycroft smiled briefly and turned to retrieve the folder he'd dropped onto the coffee table upon entering the apartment. "The details are inside the file, but I think you should talk to this person face to face. I trust you'll be discreet, as usual."
"When am I not?" Sherlock quipped back, reaching to take the offered coffee mug. He gave Natasha grateful nod and then turned his attention back to his brother. "Tomorrow then? Text me the details, if you would."
"Tomorrow," Mycroft confirmed, setting the thick folder down on the kitchen table. "I'll text you later today with the details." He turned for the door but paused halfway. "Miss Romanoff, it's been interesting. Sherlock, I'll be in touch."
Natasha lifted her own mug to her lips and leaned against the counter once Mycroft disappeared down the stairs. "Are you going to take the case?"
"He says it would be interesting." Sherlock said, scooping up the folder to skim over it. "If it is, I'm not going to ignore it just to spite him. Besides, I don't have anything else going on…" He trailed off as he found something that caught his eye, and he smirked just slightly, snapping the folder shut and tossed it on the table. "Looks promising, but it's also something I don't need to handle until tomorrow."
"Then I'm sorry I won't be here to see it," she said. "I'm leaving tonight, I think. I need to arrange for it, but as soon as I do, I'll be boarding a plane." She moved over to sneak a peek into the file herself. "Think you'll miss me?"
"Maybe a bit." Sherlock said, studying her as she read through the first page. "Work to do though." He took a sip of his coffee. "You probably don't know when you'll be back then."
"No, I don't," Natasha confirmed. "But if I don't die, I will be back at some point," she promised, closing the file to flash him a warm smile. "If I go to jail, it might take a little longer, but I'll be back then too. Here's hoping neither one comes to pass."
"I'll be here…probably." Sherlock said, giving her an affectionate look. "I'd appreciate if you didn't die, or go to jail. But at least the latter I can get you out of."
Natasha's smile widened for a quick second. "Jails need my permission to hold me," she assured him. "But I appreciate the sentiment..." She lifted her mug to hid her smile. "Charming."
"Sentiment aside, I'm just a text away if you need my assistance."
"I know." Natasha walked over to set her mug down on the counter and wrap her arms around him, tipping her head back and resting her chin on his chest. "I appreciate that." She studied his face a few seconds longer. "And I'm glad I came to visit."
"I am too." Sherlock said, bringing his hand to caress his fingertips over her cheek. "Now, I think we were just starting something, if you'd like to continue before the cases. No email yet, so we have a bit of time."
"I'd like that." Natasha pulled back and pressed a quick kiss to his chest. "And who knows, maybe Lestrade will call you and you'll get lucky two ways. Come on," she grabbed his open dressing gown and pulled him gently, "remind me of what I'll be missing when I leave."
"Happily." Sherlock said with a look that was fond, but predatory. Now that he was nearly healed and at his usual strength again their possibilities had a wide range. He stepped with her and then backed her up against the same part of the wall. He leaned down and started trailing kisses down her neck from behind her ear, speaking as he went along. "But you know… I don't ….believe… in luck."
"Getting lucky's an expression." Natasha closed her eyes and buried one hand in his hair with a happy sigh. "That..." She rested her head against the surface of the wall and undid the tie on her dressing gown. "Was a joke. Sort of."
Sherlock continued down her neck and across her collarbone, his hands exploring along the way. "Then you're…right….you're not…very good at…jokes. Or maybe I'm not…good at understanding them."
Natasha chuckled breathlessly. "Maybe it's both," she suggested. "Doesn't matter." She moved her hands to push his dressing gown off his shoulders. "We're good at..." Her breath hitched. "Other things."
"Very good." Sherlock said as the material fell to the ground, stopping when he got to her chest and straightening up to meet her eyes. "Though I do think we should practice a bit more, any objections?"
Another smile lit up Natasha's face. "None at all."
