Chapter twenty-five: Fantasy

"What can the love in my soul be compared to another wonderful soul which is so far and yet so close of myself?" I smiled as Sherlock rubbed my shoulder. We had the whole park to ourselves, thanks to people not wanting to sit outside on a park bench, even in a light mist of a rain.

"What can this symbiosis between two souls can be? What can love be when you feel you cannot sleep at night, that every drop of dew becomes a crystal in your heart, when every breeze of wind has magical meanings?" Sherlock's hand moves to my hair and he strokes my hair repeatedly. "What can love be when you feel that you want nothing more in this world than to be with the soul you love?" Tears start in my eyes, but I blink them away. The words…are so beautiful. "But what can love be in other transcendental realities? What about our souls? Are our souls a waterfall, a true Niagara or a smile, a flirt of an angel? Are our souls a mere mood of a fairy or a lightening in a summer rain?"

On cue, a particularly large raindrop splashes on my forehead, running down the tip of my nose. I brush it away. As my hand drops, Sherlock takes my hand and links it in his. "Our souls could be all of this and much more. But what really happens in that transcendental reality when we feel we are truly in love, that we love so much that it hurts? That the air in the room is unbreathable, that the sentimental, spiritual or physical distances kill us? What happens when dawn find us sadder than ever, looking for an excuse or an argument for the person we love so much, our Great Love? What are all these? What are the looks lost in the desert horizons of unfulfilment or those in the eyes that deeply loose each other in the others inside the souls?"

All is silent for a while before Sherlock decides to ruin the fanciful, beautiful, magical haze he's got me in by standing up. He pulls me up with him. He has the sense to look somewhat apologetic. "Sorry, but we should go now. I've got one last little surprise planned for you. And I've been fantasizing about this for the longest time."

"How long?"

"A long time."

"Elaborate a little Sherlock."

"Tell you when we get there."

"If I had your mind, I'd instantly know what you're talking about. But I don't have your mind."

"Oh, you've had your bursts of inspiration when it's really mattered. You're actually more intelligent than you give yourself credit for." At my frown, he says. "The trial. Mycroft secretly had it filmed; he figured I'd want to see it in the future."

I groan and prepare myself for his words. "And? What did I miss?"

He doesn't speak a word. He pulls me against his body, in a tight embrace and slowly, yet passionately claims my lips as his. When he breaks the kiss, I find myself clutching his lapels as he speaks lovingly to me. "You were flawless. I didn't stop to notice if you had or hadn't missed something, because you were glorious in that moment. I didn't think I could fall more in love with you, but it did, in that moment."

"Sherlock."

"I love you." I stare at him in amazement as his sudden confession. He draws me closer to him. "I do, and I want to…make it a practice to tell you about my affections for you as often as I can. In truth, I knew about a possible plot with Moriarty that would involve me dying, so, I devised that as a code. You were the only one who knew that I would say, 'I love you' three times."

"I didn't get it Sherlock." I said softly. "And now…I feel like such a fool."

"You are," I glower at him as he pulls me close. "you're my little fool and I love having you around."

I smile and wrap my arms around his waist. "I hate it….and love it when you do that to me." I laugh and look up at him. "Tell me, which of my physical features did you first love?"

"Your mouth." He replies instantly. "You say the oddest and most interesting things. Not to mention, it's a favorite place for my mouth to take residence. Your voice," he places the back of his hand on my throat. "regardless of what mission you've set your voice on. Talking pleasantly, humming, singing or even shouting at me, it's the most wonderful sound I could ever hear." Vexed to find himself on the brink of surrendering to his most human emotions, he clears his throat and continues walking down the street. "And which features of mine did you fall in love with?"

"I like your hair. But, I love your brain, which is a no-brainer, if you think about it." He snorts. "Watching you at work is one of the most impressive things I've ever seen. I don't mind feeling stupid, because it's such a pleasure to watch you at work."

He stops and looks down at me. "I've never heard anyone say that before."

"I'm your wife. I say things that no one else will say to you because I can see and know you better than anyone else alive." I ran my finger up the bridge of his nose and whisper as I twist a finger in one of his curls. "Brainy is the new sexy."

He groans. "Ohh...John."

I frown. "John what?"

"He told you that didn't he?"

"Sherlock, I have no clue what you're talking about."

He blinks. "My mistake. Sorry. You were saying?"

"What does John have to do with this?"

"Trust me," he says firmly. "if you want to have a happy anniversary, you will not continue to ask me anymore questions about brainy being the new sexy."

"You forgot our anniversary." I remind him. "We all ready had our first fight."

"Yes, and then we got into a second fight at the club. So, let's avoid a third."

"If you insist." I shake my head as I laugh lightly. "You're a crazy man."

"Yet, I can make you feel all hot and wet by simply speaking."

I blush. "Stop that."

"Why?" He laughs as he takes a hold of my arm and drags me down an alleyway. "You're so much fun to embarrass. It's so easy."

"Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see." He grins. "It'll be worth it."

I splish-splash through a large puddle of water behind him. "You know I hate getting my feet wet."

"What would have had me do? Pick you up and carry you over the water?"

"Yes!"

"Never happening. Now," without a word of warning, Sherlock pushes me against the nearest brick wall, gripping my wrists tightly in his. "my dear wife, I'm going to make love to you."

The blood drains out of my face at his words. "What? Now?"

"Yes." He said as he removed his gloves and stuffed them in his pocket.

"Here?"

"Yes."

"In public?"

He rolls his eyes. "Tammy, we're hardly in public. And in answer to any of your other questions, yes, I'm going to have you and you cannot dissuade me."

"Sherlock," I stuttered. "if someone comes down here-

"They won't." he said as he took off his coat and laid it onto of a discarded crate. "We found a dead body down here, after it'd been left lying here for four days." I shudder. "No one saw it, reported it or heard anything. So, we're safe from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears."

"And, the fact about the poor body lying here…was supposed to make me feel better?"

"Technically, yes." His hands grabbed at my skirt and pulled it up around my waist, exposing my lower body to the cold air. "You'll forget all about that in a moment."

I shake my head in despair. "Oh, dear God, you're full of," as his hand brushes over my hip to pull my undergarments down around my waist, I cry out. "wait! One question! Please!"

"Oh God." He groans. "You always do this. Make it quick."

I gulp as my voice shakes. "How long…Sherlock?"

He leans forward and breathes in my ear. "In the tunnel, an hour before our first kiss. God, I thought it was lust until I kissed you. The mere thought that I was in love with you scared me to death. After the kiss, I told Mycroft to find me a case out of London."

I blinked. "I scared you…that bad?"

"Not really. I thought if I got further away from you, the feelings would fade. But the moment I saw your face again…they came rushing back."

"I was miserable Sherlock when you left." I confessed. "I missed you so much and at the time, I thought, or…knew rather that you couldn't love anyone."

"That would explain why you didn't see to react to my announcement."

"I thought I didn't have your heart." I shiver as he kisses my neck. "I hope I'm there to stay this time."

"You are." He assures me. "You are."

I tilt my head to the side. "You still owe me a love making session in a library."

He pulls away and looks down at me indignantly. "I know. Can we concentrate on here and now at the moment?"

"Yes, sorry."

"You talk too much."

My brows arch. "I talk too much. Your mouth runs at-

Sherlock shuts me up with a kiss. In addition, indeed, it was a memorable night. And as Sherlock promised...nobody heard anything.