Stealing His Heart

by M.E. Johnson-McNeil

I'd spent way too much time on the streets to get dragged into this mess. But here I was, sitting in front of the world's greatest consulting detective, with some of the most terrifying information stored on a flash drive. Now, I would have to team up with the right side of the law for the first time. Hopefully some good would come of it. *M for smut, violence, and language*

12. Chapter 12: Sherlock, I

*Hello lovelies! I was happily surprised that I finished this chapter today. I really enjoyed writing it. There are definitely a few touching moments in here, as well as a bit more smut. We're getting pretty close to the end of things, at least for this one. I was planning on doing a sequel to this. Well, I wasn't planning it, but the thought crossed my mind right before I went to sleep last night. I hope you guys are enjoying this. If you'd like for me to keep this as one long story, I'm more than happy to do that. Let me know what you guys think! And again, I'm using Ariane DeVere's transcripts. I want to give them credit as they did an amazing job. Thank you all so so much for reading and I really appreciate it!*

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Chapter 12: Sherlock, I…

I had finally made my way back downstairs after making certain that Major Sholto would be alright. I knew he was in good hands though, especially with John and Mary attending him until emergency services arrived. I could only wonder if Sherlock knew who the Mayfly Man was. I was about to enter the reception hall once more when someone caught my arm. I whirled to find Sherlock staring down at me, his phone in his hand.

"We need to talk."

He led me down one of the many hallways before stopping in his tracks, spinning me to look at him. "So, you figured it out before I did, did you? How?"

"Simple. If something were going wrong at a wedding and it attracted your attention, it would be a murder. And who in that room is most likely to be murdered? Aside from you or I of course. Major Sholto."

"You know who the Mayfly Man is then, yes?"

I hesitated before shaking my head. "No. I don't. I was more worried about-"

"Saving the life than solving the crime. Yes, you and John are quite similar in that regard. Well, good thing we weren't counting on you to capture the criminal or else he would have made another attempt." Sherlock sniffed and I could see the contempt in his eyes. "And here you are, wanting to run cases with me. If you want to solve these crimes with me, you have to be able to see the entire scope, not just those who are in danger."

"Fine. You've proven your point. I'm not capable of working a case with you," I said bitterly, going to walk away from him. "I need to find my shoes."

"Quite the contrary actually," Sherlock called as I walked away. I stopped, turning to look at him with narrowed eyes. "I was merely teaching you what I require in the future if you're going to work with me. I need someone to balance me out and with Mary and John expecting-"

My eyes went wide and a look of horror crossed Sherlock's face. "They-they're- are you serious?"

"I've said too much. I don't even think that she knows."

"Sherlock, they're going to have a baby?!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, crossing to me to grab my arm, swinging me to look at him. "Keep quiet about it! Didn't I say that I don't even think Mary knows?"

"I will. Are you going to tell them?"

"I'm going to suggest a pregnancy test, yes."

I clapped my hands with glee. "Oh, a baby! I'm so delighted. Wait until Mrs. Hudson finds out! She'll be so excited."

"Delilah. You cannot. Tell. Anyone. This is our little secret."

I nodded solemnly, seeing the warning look in Sherlock's eye. "Of course. It's their business. Oh, I do hope you tell them soon though! I can't wait until I see their faces."

Sherlock sighed again. "Weren't you going to go and look for your shoes?"

"Oh. Right. I'll go and find those and then I'll track you down." I began to rush off when I turned around. "Sherlock?"

"Yes Delilah?"

"You did amazing up there today. I'm very proud of you."

I saw a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. "And you did very well solving at least half of the mystery. We'll work on solving the whole one during our next case."

I walked away, grinning from ear to ear. Sherlock and I were going to be working together. Mary and John were expecting. I didn't know which I was more excited for. The adventures we were going to have together or the fact that Mary and John were going to have a little one in the near future.

I managed to find my shoes about thirty minutes later. One of the waiters who had been clearing the tables out of the way to make room for the dance floor had found them. I saw him walking up to guests with the shoes, asking them whose they were. Without a word, I took them from his hands, slipping them on my feet.

I found John standing by himself, looking around at all of the party-goers. I stepped beside him. "Wonderful day for a wedding, isn't it?"

He sighed. "So long as you don't have any murderers at your wedding, yes, it is."

"Your friend didn't die though. He'll be better in no time."

"Yes, but, can you imagine the guilt eating at him? When I was under his command, he cared about his troops deeply. I can understand why he would want to kill himself."

"I'm sure you can. As can I." I saw him glance up at me, suspicion in his eyes. "John, the funny thing about being suicidal is that we can see it in the others around us who contemplated it."

"You're sounding more and more like Sherlock every time we speak."

"Except, unlike Sherlock, I can empathize. I haven't lost that side of me quite yet, although I will say, since February that side of me has shrunk." I looked out over the crowd, my hand tightening on the strap of my purse. "I hope you know that I care for the three of you very deeply. Mrs. Hudson as well. And that I'm so happy to see you two married finally."

"You're not going to disappear again are you?" John sounded worried and I gave him a smile.

"No, John. I realized that I haven't had the chance to speak with you very much lately. I've been so wrapped up in my recovery and my training that I've forgotten the most important thing of all. Friendship." John smiled. "You, Mary, and Sherlock have become the closest thing I'll have to a family. Sure, I've got my mother to speak to now thanks to Sherlock, but I'll never be close to her. You three on the other hand, you searched all of London looking for me, took over a terrorist's warehouse. Hell, you even killed one of the men who was holding me captive." I looked down at the floor, feeling my face growing hot. "I never thanked you for that…for killing the man who was going to kill me. You saved my life."

"I would have done it for any of my friends. I did it for Sherlock before."

I shook my head. "I don't think you would have. And I think you did it more for Sherlock than for me. I'm not complaining though. I'm glad you pulled the trigger."

"I did it for you and him. You two…I don't know how to explain it. You both fight constantly, seemingly detest each other, and yet you bring out the best in him. I've never seen Sherlock as calm and kind as when he's around you. He seems to function like a normal human being almost, which is more than I could ever get him to do." We both chuckled. "You're good for one another. I hope that you two stay together."

"Do you really mean that John?"

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I want the best for my best friend and my wife's best friend?"

"I'm your…your wife's best friend?"

John nodded. "Yes, you are. She was so disappointed when you told her you weren't going to be in the wedding party. But she also understood that you weren't ready to do something quite so…sociable yet. But, enough of us chatting. Let's go and find Sherlock and my wife, shall we?"

We began to search through the reception area. John managed to get held up by a few of the guests and I slipped away, going to search for Sherlock. I found him in the foyer with Janine, waltzing together. I couldn't help but snicker softly at her dancing even as I watched from the doorway.

"Just...hold your nerve on your turning," Sherlock said as he released her.

"Why do we have to rehearse?" She questioned as she adjusted the top of her dress. I rolled my eyes.

Sherlock leaned in closer to her and I felt the jealousy rising up in my chest. I heard Sherlock say, "Because we are about to dance together in public and your skills are appalling." I watched as he turned to look at me. "Delilah! Would you care to demonstrate how you're supposed to dance?"

I stepped out from my place in the doorway, shutting the door behind me. "You'd like for me to-"

"Be an example to Janine, yes."

"Why? You're a good teacher as it is." I could tell that Janine was miffed even as I walked towards Sherlock. "And a brilliant dancer."

"I'll let you in on something Janine," Sherlock said even as he placed one hand on my waist, the other taking my hand. "I love dancing. I've always loved it."

We began a slow waltz, spinning around the room. I found myself lost in Sherlock's eyes as I stared up at him. He leaned down to my ear, murmuring, "Do you trust me?"

I felt my heart skip a beat, but I nodded my head. "Aye. I do."

He spun me once, twice, before dipping me backwards. As he pulled me back up, he spun me away, pirouetting behind me to catch me around the waist as I stopped spinning. I laughed breathlessly, turning to look at him, seeing the smile on his face.

"Ooh! Woah!" I heard Janine exclaim and I straightened up, brushing back the hair that had fallen into my face, realizing that my hair band had fallen off during my dip.

"Never really comes up in crime work," Sherlock admitted as I went to go and retrieve my accessory. "But, um, you know, I live in hope of the right case."

"I wish you weren't…whatever it is you are," I heard Janine sigh. That was all I could take from the woman.

"And I wish you weren't so blind," I snapped, turning on my heel to glare at the woman. "Sherlock is a fantastic human being and a good man. Sure, he's a bit eccentric and sometimes a bit impossible. But I'm happy to have him in my life. I'm also very happy that someone like you can't see how amazing a person he actually is."

Both Sherlock and Janine looked taken aback by my temper and I realized that I had said too much. I left the room, brushing past John on my way out. I needed alcohol and lots of it. Before I could find alcohol though, I found Mary.

"Del, have you seen John?"

"He was with Sherlock and Janine in the foyer."

Mary's arm hooked through mine, turning me back in the direction of Janine. I wanted to pull away from her and escape, but instead I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to go back and look at that simpleton bridesmaid once more. I sighed and Mary looked up at me.

"What's the matter? I know that its been a bit hectic and I'm sorry. I really wasn't expecting it to be like this."

"No, no. It's fine. I...I let my jealousy get the better of me."

Mary chuckled. "You can't stand to see him with Janine, can you?"

"No, I can't."

Mary stopped just outside the doors leading to the foyer. "Del, when are you going to admit to yourself that you love him?"

"I...what?"

"It's so clear to all of us that you love Sherlock and that he loves you. But you two seem absolutely oblivious to all of it." Mary smiled knowingly at me. "I've seen the way you two look at each other. You already live together and can tolerate each other pretty well. And from what John has said, there has been more than one occasion where he has come over and you've both been in bed together."

"It helps my nightmares," I said defensively. "Sherlock was tired of hearing me crying out at night."

Mary shook her head. "That's not all it is. You two, whether you like to admit it or not, are good for each other. Tell him how you feel. Think of it as our wedding present."

I sighed. "I'll think on it. Now let's find your husband Mrs. Watson."

"Do you always carry handcuffs?" I heard Janine mutter to Sherlock and I felt my temper flaring up again.

"Down girl. In case you couldn't tell earlier, there is someone else."

My heart swelled with happiness even as I watched Mary go to John. I looked between the man that was handcuffed and Sherlock. "So, this is the Mayfly Man?"

"Yes. You missed my entire explanation, didn't you?" Sherlock asked, looking over his shoulder at me.

"It's not me you should be arresting Mr. Holmes." I recognized the man as the photographer for the wedding.

"Oh, I don't do the arresting. I just farm that out," Sherlock retorted, nodding towards Greg.

"Sholto, he's the killer, not me. I should have killed him quicker." I shuddered at the man's maniacal grin, watching as it fell slowly from his face and he shook his head. "I shouldn't have tried to be clever."

I heard Sherlock say softly, "You should have driven faster."

I gave him a curious glance even as I gently took his hand. He looked down at me, forcing a smile. I ran my thumb along his inner palm, doing my best to sooth him. I could tell that something was bothering him, but I knew that it was going to be something he'd have to talk to me about later. Mary and John were heading into the reception and I knew that Sherlock would have to go as well.

"We'll be dancing later, correct?"

Sherlock gave me only a curt nod even as he followed Mary and John. I stood there, watching as they entered the room. My phone began to go off and I looked down, recognizing the number almost immediately. I stepped outside, knowing that I was going to miss the first dance.

"Mycroft, what do you want?"

"I wished to see what your availability looked like this Friday. I'd like it if you could meet me at The Wolseley around 2:30 that afternoon."

"Why?"

"I can't take my brother's girlfriend out for an afternoon?"

"I'm not his girlfriend," I said through gritted teeth. "God, why must everyone insist that we are together?"

"Well, according to my sources, you two have slept together. And he always seems to be distracted whenever you're mentioned. Plus, you both have been sighted in public no less than twenty-seven times in the past two months."

"Have you forgotten that we live together and need groceries?"

"I'm sorry, I completely forgot that you get groceries at a fish and chip shop. My apologies. How silly of me."

"So what, you've been spying on us?"

"Merely keeping tabs on my little brother and who he decides to let into his life. Now, are you available Friday? Your schedule at the clinic says yes, but I wanted to check and make sure that you hadn't made any plans at that school of yours you teach at." I could practically hear him smiling through the phone. "I was thinking, maybe I should get some lessons with you. I've heard that taekwondo is very good for the health."

"Fine. Friday, two-thirty at The Wolseley."

"Wonderful! I will book our table. Now, go and enjoy the rest of the wedding. Please send Mary and John my regards as I'm certain that Sherlock neglected to."

I ended the phone call, looking up at the night sky. What on earth could Sherlock's brother possibly want with me? I'd answered every question he'd come up with, told my story a thousand times. What more could he want?

When I entered the reception again, Sherlock was still playing his violin and Mary and John were still dancing. I smiled, the phone call with Mycroft slowly fading into a distant memory. I was here at the wedding of two of my closest friends, something that I didn't think that I would live to see. And they were a beautiful couple. John looked so happy and I could tell that Mary was so in love with him. I caught Sherlock's eye as he stopped playing.

Sherlock raised the flower to me, but I knew he was going to throw it to Janine, as that was what was expected of him. The woman caught it and Mary and John straightened themselves up, laughing and kissing one another. Sherlock stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, just, er, one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose and was dealt with." Sherlock paused and I pushed my way to the front of the crowd, standing at the edge of the dance floor where he could see me. "More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows. I've never made a vow in my life, and after tonight I never will again. So, here in front of you all, my first and last vow. Mary and John, whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you." I covered my mouth, realizing that he had nearly let slip that they were expecting in front of the entire crowd. "Er, I'm sorry, I mean, I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact. I've just miscounted."

I saw the couple look at each other, worry on their faces. I watched as Sherlock took a deep breath, trying to compose himself once more. "Anyway, it's time for dancing. Play the music again, please, thank you." Sherlock turned to look at the crowd. "Okay, everybody, just dance. Don't be shy! Dancing, please!"

I took the opportunity to get out onto the floor as Sherlock began crossing to Mary and John. I appeared at Mary's side, squeezing her arm gently even as Sherlock appeared in front of us.

"Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting."

"Deduction?" Mary asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sherlock looked down at her, a glitter in his eye that I had only seen when he was working on cases. "Starving. Change of taste perception. And you were sick this morning. You assumed it was just wedding nerves. You got angry with me when I mentioned it to you. All the signs are there."

"The signs?" Mary looked to me questioningly. "What signs is he talking about?"

"The signs of three," Sherlock stated, gaze dropping to Mary's abdomen.

"What?!"

"Mary, I think you should do a pregnancy test."

John sighed, dropping his head, nearly doubling over. I worried that the man was going to faint. Mary grinned at Sherlock, beaming from ear to ear.

"W...th-the statistics for the first trimester are-"

"Shut up," John said, straightening up and I looked at Sherlock, who had frozen mid-word. "Just...shut up."

"Sorry," Sherlock apologized and I went to stand next to him, taking his hand.

John turned to Mary. "How did he notice before me? I'm a bloody doctor."

"It's your day off," Sherlock muttered

"It's your day off!" John retorted.

"Everybody take it easy," I said, trying to calm the situation down. "Besides, I don't think Sherlock knows how to take a day off."

"Stop...stop panicking."

"I'm not panicking."

"I'm pregnant...I'm panicking."

"The three of you stop it!" I snapped. "You're all making this much worse than it has to be. There is no need to panic."

"Yes. Right. Absolutely no reason to panic." Sherlock shifted uncomfortably, his grip on my hand tightening slightly.

"Oh, and you two would know of course?"

"Yes, we would," Sherlock replied. "You're already the best parents in the world. Look at all the practice you've had!"

I gave Sherlock a puzzled glance, tilting my head to the side. I had no idea what he was talking about at this point.

"What practice?" John asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, you're hardly going to need me around now that you've got a real baby on the way."

I began to laugh. Sherlock was right. I watched as John began to laugh with me, clasping Sherlock on the back of the neck before putting his hand on Mary's shoulder. I could see the happy tears in Mary's eyes and she held her hand out to me. I took it and she gave it a tight squeeze, pulling me in for a hug. I returned the embrace, laughing and smilng.

"You alright?" John asked as I let Mary go.

"Yeah," Mary replied breathlessly, still not letting go of my hand. "I'm fine. I'm just-"

"I'll go and get you some water," I murmured, letting go of her hand. "I'm so happy for you both. You'll have to let me know what the test says when you take it."

I walked off, going to find a glass of water for the bride and mother-to-be. I wanted to give Sherlock a few minutes with his friends alone. I knew that he and John probably needed to have a moment together and I didn't want to intrude. I finally tracked down one of the waitstaff and asked him if he could fetch a glass of water for the bride. As I did, I noted Sherlock leaving the room out of the corner of my eye.

I pushed through the crowd, entering the foyer in time to see Sherlock exiting out into the garden. I slipped out of my shoes, carrying them as I walked out of the door. I could see him retreating into the garden, the collar of his jacket popped up as high as it could go.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, wait!"

He stopped, standing still as I ran up to him. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the flat."

"Without me?"

"Yes. You are more than capable of hailing a cab for yourself."

"Sherlock," I reached out for his hand, but he jerked away. "Sherlock, what in the world is wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me. Something's the matter. I can see it."

"Why do you care? Honestly woman, you're more irritating than a gnat sometimes."

"And you're more stubborn than a bull, but I'm doing my best to not make rude comparisons here. Something is bothering you Sherlock and its been bothering you since we got ready this morning. Now, talk to me."

He sighed, shaking his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't understand? Really Sherlock? Me?" I reached out to take his hand again and this time he didn't pull away. "There was, once upon a time, a moment where you trusted me. Do you not anymore?"

"I do."

"Then show me. Let me in."

Sherlock frowned. "Could we at least do this at the flat?"

"Fine."

We managed to hail a cab and the ride back to 221b was long and quiet. I kept holding his hand though, not wanting to let go, knowing that if I did, he probably wouldn't take it back. We arrived back to the flat on Baker Street close to midnight. I was exhausted, but I refused to let myself go to sleep until we'd spoken.

Sherlock let us in, holding the door open for me. I took the stairs two at a time, waiting patiently outside the door. "One day you'll eventually have a key made for me."

"Why? We- I'm almost always home and if I'm not then Mrs. Hudson will let you in."

"Sherlock, I live here now, remember?"

"Funny, I don't recall you paying the rent."

"Would you like for me to?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at him. "What are you doing? Why are you pushing me away?"

"Because I wish to be alone. I wish to be by myself without you or anyone else in my hair. Why is that so difficult for you to comprehend?"

"W-what? But...Sherlock, I…"

"What?"

"I told Mary that I would do something tonight, as my wedding present to her and John. But now I don't even think I should do it anymore since you're making it so clear that you want nothing to do with me."

I began to walk down the hall to my room when he grabbed my arm. "What is it Delilah?"

"Why don't you figure it out? Use that brain of yours to deduce what I want to say. You can do it all the time with everyone else."

Sherlock frowned. "Because...because I can't do it with you."

"What?"

In the unlit gloom of the flat, I could tell that he was struggling to find the words. "I can't deduce things with you. It's frustrating to me. With Janine, I could figure everything out about her with a simple glance. I could read Watson like a book, I could figure out Mary and Mrs. Hudson's thoughts with a single movement and facial expression. But you...you're impossible to predict. You go off on whims, you're smarter than you let on, and you can change your mind at a moment's notice. I've lived with you for almost six months and I still can't figure it out." He sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. "You aggravate me."

I went to John's chair, sitting down and staring at him. "Is that what has been bothering you?"

"No. Yes. Well, it's one of the things that bothers me. You won't let go of that, will you?" I shook my head. "Fine. I feel as if I am losing everything that has made me feel like a somewhat normal functioning human being. Mary and John are having a baby, which means that they'll be much too busy to spend time with me. And everyone in the past few weeks has made a point of telling me how much it was going to change things. I don't know why they did it either, which also bothers me."

"Because they care about you and they know how close you and John are," I said simply, crossing my legs. "They know that you and John are the greatest of friends, that you're more like brothers than anything else, and that he has done so much for you these past few years. He opened you up, Sherlock, made you realize that there are good and beautiful things in this world. And you're afraid that with him gone, focused on Mary and the baby, that you'll lose that side of you."

"I'm a machine."

"You're a human. Just like me. You bleed the same, you feel the same. The only difference is that you are very good at pretending that you don't feel anything, whereas I feel too much." Sherlock continued to stand, staring at me. "I know, by your lack of response, that I'm not wrong. Either that or you're so tired that-"

Before I could finish my sentence, Sherlock was next to me, kissing me roughly. I gripped the arms of the chair, struggling against the urge to get away from him. I told myself repeatedly that it was Sherlock, that I was safe. He stopped for a moment, resting his forehead against mine. I did my best to keep my breathing calm even as we sat in the silence of the flat.

"I should call the police."

"For what?" I asked, slightly alarmed. "Is there someone here?"

"Because you are a thief."

I recoiled from him, nose wrinkling with disdain. "I thought we were past that."

"We are. You are the thief that stole my heart that I didn't even know I had." He brushed my cheek with his knuckle. "I don't understand you or this. But I know that having you by my side is not something that I want to be without. You...you're different and I want to learn from you."

I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before I pulled away, staring at him in the dark room. "Sherlock. I should have told you sooner. But...I love you."

He chuckled. "I've known that for about a month now. That I can actually deduce."

"So...what do we do now?"

"What do normal couples do when they declare their affections for one another?" Sherlock gave me a small smile. "If you'd still have me, that is."

"I...yes, Sherlock. But, if I become frightened, we have to stop."

"Of course. I would never hurt you." He slid his arms under me, lifting me from the chair and carrying me down the hall.

I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was soothing, had been since we'd started sharing the same bed. It had eased the nightmares, as had being wrapped in his arms. We got to his bedroom and he laid me down gently, kissing me tenderly. I could tell that he was doing his best to restrain himself. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me even as he rested one hand against my hip, hiking my dress up around my waist. I let out a low moan as he pressed a kiss to my neck, gently sucking on the sensitive skin.

I pulled at his jacket, tossing it to the floor. I began to unbutton the front of his dress shirt even as he unzipped my dress, pulling it down to expose my breasts. He raised an eyebrow at me. "No bra?"

"Didn't seem necessary. The dress has a built-in one and it's not like I have massive breasts to begin with." I finished unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to the floor to join the other articles of clothing. "Are you really going to question my clothing choices right now?"

To answer my question, he bent down, suckling my breast, looking up at me occasionally to make sure that I wasn't uncomfortable. I was far from it. In fact, I was enjoying myself with Sherlock, something that I hadn't thought possible since the incident in February. I let my nails run down his back, feeling him jerk against me. My fingers gently pressed into the tense muscles of his shoulders and I felt him instantly relax, body sagging against mine.

"What are you trying to do, put me to sleep?" He questioned, going to kiss me. "Because if you keep doing that, I can guarantee you that that's what you'll do."

I chuckled, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "You'll be fine. I'm learning you, Sherlock."

He pulled the dress down, tossing it to the floor. He leaned back, staring down at my body. I felt myself cringe inwardly as he inspected all of the new scars and marks. His fingers traced the scar on my abdomen, brushing over the matching burn scars on either side of my ribcage. I began to shake, squirming under his gaze. His eyes focused on mine. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"A bit…"

"Sorry. I...didn't realize how many...I didn't know…"

"It's fine. I didn't want you or anyone else to see." I was sliding myself under the blankets, trying to hide my body from him. "This was a stupid idea. I should have known-"

"Easy Lila. I asked you once already tonight if you trust me. Do you?"

I nodded, taking a deep breath. "I do."

"Then I am going to come under the covers with you and I'm going to make love to you if you'll let me."

I felt the panic rising up in my chest, but I pushed it down, telling myself that I was safe, that I was going to be alright. Sherlock climbed under the covers with me, his hand brushing against my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine. He disappeared under the covers and I felt him tugging at my underwear, pulling it down around my ankles before tossing it somewhere. He slowly spread my legs, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I gasped as I felt his tongue slowly lick my clit.

I let my head fall back against the pillow, closing my eyes, focusing on the new sensations. My fingers fisted in his hair as I felt two of his fingers slide into me. I was growing hotter and hotter, feeling as if I was going to fly apart at the seams. He continued to lick and suck my clit, his mouth matching the rhythm that his fingers were setting.

"Sherlock...oh God, Sherlock...please. Please don't stop."

His pace increased and suddenly I was soaring, my body arching, my fingers flying from his scalp to his back, nails digging into the soft flesh. As I relaxed, chest heaving for air, I found Sherlock next to me, a triumphant smile on his face.

"You enjoyed it." I nodded. "You really enjoyed it."

"Yes, Sherlock, I enjoyed it. Are you trying to ruin the moment?"

He shook his head, leaning down to kiss me. I could still taste my juices on his lips. I stroked the side of his neck, feeling him shudder against me. I unbuttoned his pants quickly, tugging that and his underwear down, pushing them off him with my feet and then kicking them out of the bed. He gave me a smile even as I positioned myself underneath of him, arms wrapped around his neck even as I hooked one leg around his waist. I could feel him holding himself back.

"Sherlock. Take me."

"Are you sure Lila?"

I nodded slowly, feeling as if I had a good grip on my emotions at that moment. When he hesitated, I quickly flipped him onto his back, sitting astride him. I sunk down onto him, hearing him groan even as I stopped, letting him stay deep inside. I closed my eyes, trying to block out every thought, only focusing on the moment and the sensations. Sherlock's hands were on my breasts, cupping them gently even as I set the pace. I could hear his breath growing ragged and I leaned down, still setting the rhythm, focusing on the feeling of having him inside me. I pressed a kiss to his neck and his hands gripped my hips.

"Delilah...Delilah...Lila!"

I watched as his eyes fluttered closed and he thrust himself deep in me, hands tightening their grip. I felt him cum inside and I smiled, pressing gentle kisses against his face and lips even as he struggled to catch his breath. I didn't move for a couple of minutes, trying to catch my own breath and his eyes fluttered open, staring at me directly.

"We didn't use protection."

I gave him an exasperated look. "The first time I have sex with you since...well you know, and the one thing that you can think of is that we didn't use protection? Really Sherlock?"

"Well, I would rather not have a baby at this point in my life."

I got off of him, grabbing my dress off of the floor, using it to cover myself. "Sherlock, do you really think I would be so careless? I've been on the pill since March. I'm fine. And if you're worried about diseases, I had every blood test known to man run at the hospital for STI's. Honestly, you need to sort out your priorities."

I exited the room, going to the bathroom to draw a warm bath for myself. While I had enjoyed it in the moment, I now felt unclean. Even though it had been with Sherlock and I had wanted it, I still couldn't help but picture a certain warehouse with half a dozen men all waiting in a circle for their turn. I shuddered, glancing up at myself in the mirror. I recognized that haunted look, one that I had been trying to avoid confronting for months.

"You're fine. You're safe. This was your choice. You wanted this to happen. It was safe, consensual, and enjoyable. You are safe and you are loved. He is not them. He will never be them." I began to say to myself in the mirror over and over again as the water filled the tub.

"Delilah."

I turned to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, a frown on his face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm...fine. I was-"

"Reassuring yourself. I know. I read it in your journal that your therapist had suggested you come up with a mantra of sorts." Sherlock crossed behind me, turning the water off to the tub. "Were you going to take a bath?"

"No. Figured I would fill the tub so that I could practice my scuba diving skills." I snapped, immediately regretting what I'd said. I tried to soften my tone. "Yes, I'm taking a bath. Thank you for turning the water off for me."

He nodded, looking over his shoulder at me. I blushed as I realized that he and I were both still naked. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"We won't both fit in the tub."

"Yes we will. It's a large tub. If you're uncomfortable with it, I understand."

I sighed. "If you'd like to we can. Just...promise me if I get uncomfortable, you'll get out."

"Of course."

I nodded, setting my dress on the toilet before I climbed into the tub. "Well, come in then."

He settled in behind me, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "Thank you."

I turned to look at him, unable to hide the surprise on my face. "What did you say?"

"I said thank you."

"W-what are you thanking me for?"

"For trusting me enough to be intimate with you. And for letting me share the bath with you."

I smiled, leaning back against him. "Well...you're welcome."

We sat in silence for a bit, Sherlock running his damp fingers through my hair. He poured a bit of water over my head and I shivered, remembering the hose and how they'd tried to drown me on my first day with them. Sherlock leaned down, whispering in my ear, "You are here in the bath with me in the flat, not there. It is bath water and you are safe."

I relaxed once more, soothed by the sound of his voice. He poured another handful of water over my head and I kept myself relaxed. A few more times and then he was scrubbing shampoo into my hair, massaging my scalp. I could feel myself drifting off. Between the warm bath, Sherlock's fingers, and the contentment I felt after having sex, I was the most relaxed I'd been since the day we'd gotten drunk together. He washed the shampoo out of my hair before putting the conditioner in, combing it through my hair with his fingers.

"You know, I think I like your hair short."

"Mmm?"

"Your hair short. It brings out your features a lot more. You should keep it that way."

"I didn't think you would like a woman with short hair."

"And normally I don't," he replied, beginning to wash the conditioner out. "But on you, I do."

I smiled, turning to press a light kiss to his lips. "You are so sweet to me. I don't understand it."

"Neither do I."

"Perhaps there are some mysteries that are best left unsolved," I murmured, feeling the water dribble down from my head to my neck and back into the bath.

As he finished rinsing the conditioner from my head, I felt his fingers begin brushing against my back. I winced, knowing that he was touching the scars there. A couple of them were still tender, but I did my best to not pull away, allowing him his inspection. He pressed a kiss to my shoulder before resting his chin there.

"I am sorry I didn't make it to you sooner."

"I know you tried your best."

"I could have been faster. I could have thought of looking through local warehouses sooner or I could have tried harder at breaking through their code and tracking the signal."

"There are so many could have's and what if's in this world Sherlock. Do we really need to add more? The damage was done. To both of us." Sherlock kept quiet and I turned to him in the tub, which was no easy feat. "Sherlock, I've heard you talking in your sleep about that night. And you're always apologizing. There was even a night when I heard you cry out my name."

"Did not."

"Think what you will, but I know what I heard. It took me this long to realize it, but my being tortured affected you too. It's why you're always following me when you can, why you installed multiple tracking devices and apps into my phone." He kept his expression neutral and I smiled. "Sherlock, I know you did, so don't lie. I'm a bit more tech savvy than you all give me credit for."

Sherlock sighed. "So what? I wished to make certain that you were safe."

"And I appreciate that. But you can't continue to coddle me constantly, especially if we're going to be going on cases together and living together. I want this to work. But if you suffocate me then all I'm going to want to do is escape. Can we at least agree that you won't snoop through my things anymore and you'll stop following me?"

Sherlock sighed. "Fine. But you have to text me every hour at least once."

"Unless I'm in class."

"You and your stipulations. Fine, unless you're in class."

I smiled. "Glad that we could settle this. Now, I'm going to get out and dry off. I'll see you in bed?"

He nodded. "I'm going to wash myself and then I'll join you. Oh. Delilah. There's something that I've been meaning to give you. It's sitting on the dresser."

Curious, I got out of the bath, wrapping a towel around my body. I stepped into Sherlock's bedroom, going directly to the dresser. I saw a velvet box sitting on the dresser and I felt my heart begin to race. What was this? With trembling fingers, I lifted the box up to eye level, opening it slowly. The tears were nearly instant as I recognized the ring in the box.

Arms wrapped around my waist and I recognized the naked body pressed against mine. "H-how did you- where did you-?"

"It was in evidence. I convinced Lestrade to release it to me. I wanted to be the one to give it to you. It was your father's, correct?"

"Yes. The most important thing I have left of him." I lifted it out of the box, hands shaking. As I tried to fasten it, Sherlock's hands covered mine, gently pushing them away.

"I…I wanted you to be happy…and I didn't know how to do it."

I turned to him as he finished fastening it. The tears streamed down my face, but I smiled up at him. "This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. I love you Sherlock Holmes. Thank you."

I took his hand, leading him back to the bed, making love to him once more before bed. As we finished and lay in each other's arms, I smiled.

'I am safe. I am loved. I am home.'

"You're a fool, you know that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Coming here. Did you really think that I would let you survive our meeting?" She smirked and I felt uneasy, looking around the empty playground. "Did you really think that I would let you waltz in to my operation and try to destroy everything? I'm not stupid Del. I know all of your tricks. But let me fill you in on what's going to happen before I kill you."

I drew my weapon, pointing it at her. "You mean before I kill you. I don't care if I die, so long as I take you with me."

Ten red dots appeared on my chest simultaneously, but I still held my ground, keeping my gun trained on her even as she sat on the swings, a twisted smile on her face. "Oh, so predictable. Will you put the gun down so we can at least discuss things under less hostile circumstances?"

I bit my bottom lip but lowered my gun. "Fine. Since you're going to kill me anyway, I may as well hear what you have to say."

"Good!" She kicked her legs back in forth with her glee. "Because I can promise you, things are going to get much more interesting here in London town. We'll start with burning you. And then my boyfriend has something very special in store for yours."

"You have a boyfriend? Who would be sick and twisted enough to date you?"

"Oh, I'm sure you know his name. Sherlock definitely does. And he has missed your darling consulting detective something terrible. Talks about him all the time in fact. Sometimes I can't even get him to shut up about it for half the day as he reads Sherlock's friend's blog. What's his name? Jack? Jordan?"

"It's John. Would you get to the point already Livvy?"

Her eyes glittered with glee as she got up from the swings, approaching me. "Oooh, someone's a bit impatient aren't they? Are you sure that you want to know?"

I felt myself grow uneasy at her tone, but I nodded.

She leaned down to my ear before whispering the name.

"James Moriarty."