So, umm...this is embarrassing. It has been a long, long time. So I'll spare you the details of how everything has been spiralling out of control and crack on.
I do keep my promises, and I promised that I would not abandon this story. This particular chapter is an extra long one, to make up for the wait. And I'm sure that you'll enjoy it.
On another note, it has recently come to my attention that there are some sites copying . I just want to make this clear, I have only posted this story on and ...though I have not update my account on mibba for a long time, and you can definitely tell as the story over there is not up to date. If you are reading this story on any other site, please let me know (by looking me, C.M. Gate on and messaging me) as it is plagiarized.
I would also like to thank my reviewers: miskamimi, The Nihilanth, SecondaryPsychopath, Guest #1, Aim1107, Guest, Lily, mariafivi1, Red and SherlysGirl. Thank you! Thank you so much!
Replies to:
Guest #1: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked it : ).
Guest: Hi there! Thanks for the review! This chapter is very...Giselle-Sherlock centred, so you got part of your curiosity here. I hope you enjoy it!
Lily: Hi Lily! Thanks for your review, I'm really happy you like my story so much...you know, I can't help picturing you as a redhead with green eyes...but that's just my inner Harry Potter fangirl screaming out in excitement. I hope you like this chapter.
Red: Hello Red (that's my favourite colour, by the way). Thanks for the reviews! I was so happy when I read them! Don't apologise for the 'Holmesian language'; it's very articulate, and articulate is good...so yay! As for replacing the name 'Giselle' for your alias name...if you're happy to do it, sure, why not? I don't mind. As for the crucial detail hidden in the graves...let me know when I reveal it? I'm quite curious to see whether you got my thinking or no. Thanks again!
Disclaimer: I only own the original characters and parts of the plot...otherwise, nothing belongs to me.
Giselle was tapping her foot impatiently. They had already been waiting for a quarter of an hour. "The only time he has to be late...it has to be his friend's wedding." She murmured.
Giselle was sitting at the front pew on her own, waiting for the detective to arrive with his friend. Her stormy eyes flicked to the person who had just sat next to her, and widened in horror. "Tell me that Watson looks cleaner and better than you do." She whispered. The grime on Sherlock's face was not enough to hide the slight twinge of guilt.
"My dear Giselle, I have no idea what you are referring to." He replied in an equally hushed tone. Her gaze quickly shifted in the other direction and her lips parted open in shock as she observed the doctor.
Had it not been for the black velvet coat, he would have looked even worse than Sherlock. However, the bruise under his right eye, slightly puffed up eyelids and untidy hair betrayed the rough night that the two men had just been through.
"What have you done?" She groaned, resisting the urge to drop her face into her hands. "I prevented a woman from being murdered and stopped Watson from waking up in a drunken stupor in the casino. I think I did rather well, if I may say so myself." He replied as the music started to play, signifying the arrival of the bride. "May I also comment that the colour of the dress suits the fairness of your skin."
Giselle's eyes shifted down to her skirts. The pale blue gown looked even more vivid than it actually was as the sun's rare rays glittered on her dress. Her cheeks reddened slightly at his obvious compliment. "I'm glad you think so." She whispered, as both master and protégée fell silent to witness Dr. John Watson and Mary Morstan reciting their vows and promising each other to remain loyal and loving for the rest of their lives.
The ceremony progressed on with no unforeseen incidents. Giselle was smiling as she observed the newlyweds walking out of the church, clapping with the other guests.
Her eyes focused on her friends. Mary was positively glowing and John Watson's contentment was more than obvious. Her gaze sifted through the guests, trying to find Sherlock. She frowned as she finally spied him a couple of feet away from the congregation. The smile slid from her face as she excused herself and circled round the back of the guests on her way towards him.
A small smile was on his lips, as his eyes followed his newly married friend, however, he could not hide how upset he truly was, not from the blonde woman in the light blue dress who had just made her way over to him.
"Hey." She said softly, her eyes boring into his. Sherlock didn't respond. He nodded in recognition and quickly looked away from her eyes. "He's not migrating, you know. I'm sure he'll still drop by 221B. Dr Watson will definitely not shirk from his mother-hen duties, as you like to remind him." She said. A small smile twitched at his lips at her last comment. "I'm sure he won't abandon us, he's much too noble for that. Excuse me for a moment." And with that he made his way outside to the motor carriage as she turned back and went to Mary and Dr Watson to congratulate them as the other guests were doing.
Mary was talking to one of her cousins as Dr Watson looked around. "Where's Holmes?" he asked. "He went outside. I think he's messing around with the car. You know how it's always sputtering." The doctor frowned at her words, clearly not quite understanding what she meant, before a click of recognition cleared up his confusion. "You mean the motor carriage. Why do you keep referring to it as a 'car'?"
"Oh, it's just what we call them. Back where I come from, I mean." She paused, as she looked behind before she turned back to him, an urgent plea in her eyes. "Dr Watson, please, try to visit him every now and then. He doesn't want to admit it, but he is afraid he'll end up losing you for good." The doctor frowned at her words. "Getting married does not mean forfeiting all your friends."
"I know, but you know how he is. I hate to see him all sad and mopey. Oh, and please, do not tell him I told you any of this." She said quickly, her tone hushed. The doctor nodded his head. "Do not worry yourself, Miss Elmer. Ah, there he is." He said, as both of them turned to look at the approaching sleuth.
"My dearest doctor, congratulations on obtaining a new wife for yourself." Sherlock said, a smile on his face. Watson nodded his head as they shook hands. "Yes, thank you. However, I cannot help but suspect that this is not the reason why you came hurrying back here."
"Indeed, it is not. I'm afraid that we are going to have to miss the reception. I have just been informed of a meeting with the elusive Mathematics Professor and I need to prepare for it." The expression on the doctor's face lost any humour and became rather sombre. "I understand. I hope nothing goes amiss. Good luck." As soon as the doctor's words were out of his mouth, Sherlock's face broke out into the first genuine smile for the morning. "On the contrary, old boy, I'm not the one needing luck. You will, for Brighton, later on." He said as both men chuckled.
Sherlock was still chuckling as he and Giselle walked from the parvise to the motor carriage. "Did I miss something?" She asked. "Nothing of importance, my dear." Was the reply that Sherlock gave her, as he chuckled to himself.
Both master and student were seated on a couch, each absorbed in their own separate world of the book they were reading; Giselle about Ancient Egypt and while Sherlock was absorbed in Moriarty's book. The faint glow of the embers in the fireplace had decreased significantly, causing the blonde woman to shut her book with a sharp snap. A small groan escaped her lips as she stretched, arching her back like a cat. She was not expecting Sherlock to close his own book and put it to the side. "Bored of Maths?"
He hummed in response to her question, before he fixed his eyes on her. "I am going to ask Moriarty to leave you and Watson out of this...quarrel of ours." He said. "I don't think he'll agree." She said. "That is the most likely outcome, yes." He replied. Giselle frowned as she leaned forwards, her elbows resting on her knees and fingers interlaced together. "I understand about Watson. But why do you want to cut me out? I want to beat him just as much as you do."
The only response she received was a chuckle from the dark haired detective seated next to her.
A small smile cracked her lips as she turned her head to look directly into his amused eyes. "I don't mean on my own, obviously. God only knows...he'd probably have already thought up ten exit strategies out of any plan I come up with. But I'm pretty good at following instructions."
"And that is why I will be leaving the Executioner in your hands while I am away."
She raised an eyebrow at his words. "That case is already in my hands. You haven't been keeping up with that case, not that there's much to keep up with anyway." She paused and frowned.
"While you're away?"
"Yes, while I'm away." He said as he stood up. "If our guess comes to be the reality, which I believe it will, Dr and Mrs Watson will be in grave danger while on their way to Brighton. And that-" "So that is what you meant by Brighton! The honeymoon." She said, a wide grin on her face.
"Sorry. Please, do continue."
"And that is where I will go after the meeting. You, on the other hand, should accompany my brother to escort Mrs Watson back to London."
Giselle narrowed her eyes at his words. "So, with regards to this plan, if Mary will be coming back to London with me as her babysitter, that means that Watson will be going with you to who knows where. Since you don't take vacation, it's safe to assume that you'll be following Moriarty. You're going to try and end this?"
"You are catching on quickly, my dear Giselle. Now, up you get." He said as he put his hand out towards her, waiting for her to take his outstretched palm as he slipped a small piece of paper into his pocket. "It's still too early to go." She said. "Yes, it is. However, your combat lesson is long overdue." He replied as she took his hand.
Her palm was warm and soft, growing cooler towards the fingertips. He quickly let go and pushed the couch and anything near the fireplace away.
"Your aim is to subdue me or take the paper from my pocket." He said as he turned back to look at her.
"I suppose I should thank you for choosing this spot instead of your mini jungle. I wouldn't have appreciated a mouthful of ficus." She said as she cracked her back.
They circled each other, their shadows flickering in the low light from the place. Giselle surveyed her surroundings discreetly; there was nothing that she could use close by, except a small lacy handkerchief in her pocket.
Sherlock seemed to be waiting for her to slip her hand in her pocket, because she found herself encircled in his arms, her right arm pinned against her body and rendered useless. "You're becoming rather predictable, my dear." He said as she reached over with her free hand and pulled his ear while digging her teeth in his shoulder. The slight jerk was all she needed to push him off and rush over to the fireplace, where a stick was hiding on the dusty mantelpiece. She quickly turned back towards Sherlock, pointing the walking stick like a sword towards him, only to find him in a similar position with his violin bow.
She arched a pale brow. "Don't you think that's rather...outmatched?" she asked. "Not necessarily." He replied, swinging towards her. She quickly met the bow with the stick. "Careful it doesn't snap." She said as they parried blows back and forth, their shadows dancing on the numerous plants and the wall.
However, at one point, the violin bow quickly twisted round Giselle's defences and smacked her on the wrist. A gasp escaped her lips as sharp pain and tingles raced through her palm, causing her to drop the stick, which the detective quickly kicked away.
"That was dirty." She said, massaging the smarting nerves. "There is no such thing as dirty in a fight." He said, the bow pointed directly at her chest.
Her eyes were trained on the bow, as she took a step back, Sherlock taking a step forwards. The tip of the bow was pointed towards her, while the frog and screw were in his hand, obviously to take care of the tension of the string. She didn't think that the screw was as sharp as the tip, however, it could still be of use to her, if her plan was to be applied correctly.
"The weapon is only as dangerous as its wielder." He said, a small smile playing on his lips. The cautious look in her eyes was replaced by a determined one as she quickly grabbed the bow with her unhurt hand, twisted and drove the screw sharply in his wrist, causing him to surrender his weapon to her, which she wielded against him.
"Don't get overconfident." She said, as she dug the screw of the bow into his ribs, causing him to quickly jump out of the way.
She did it again, and he stepped to the side once again, bending backwards to give the illusion that he had stepped back. It seemed that his trick worked as Giselle's lips quirked as she moved in to poke his ribs once again. However, this time Sherlock was ready for her; as soon as the bow connected, his elbow snapped down over it, trapping it between his arm and elbow tightly as his hand closed round the bow while the other gripped her wrist tightly. The bow was ripped cleanly out of her hands.
He threw it away, just like the walking stick and made as if to grab her as he stepped on the edge of her skirt discreetly. She stepped backwards and a squeal of surprise escaped her lips as she lost her balance and fell backwards.
Her eyes were wide in shock as she threw her hands out and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, trying to anchor herself. However, all she succeeded in was to bring him down with her. It seemed as if both the detective and the young woman were surprised by the other's actions, however, Sherlock quickly recovered as his hands pinned hers down, immobilizing her once again.
"Improvisation and the element of surprise, Giselle, you need to-" what he was saying was lost as she pushed her elbows against the floor, raising her chest and head and placed her lips against his.
He was frozen stiff in shock, clearly not expecting her actions or knowing what to do. Her lips stayed pressed gently against his for several moments before she broke the connection.
His dark eyes were alight in surprise as he stared into her stormy ones. His grip on her wrists had weakened considerably, and his fingers twitched, unsure of his next action.
Her heart was thudding away madly; she was starting to regret kissing him. Her eyes closed as she bit her lip, cursing herself. It had seemed like such a good idea, only a couple of moments ago. It was totally unexpected, for him, and she had been fantasizing about that moment for days on end.
One of the detective's hands moved to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her blonde curls, before he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.
Her eyes opened in surprise, before they closed again.
The arm that he had freed wrapped around him, going up from underneath his arm and bringing her hand to rest at the back of his shoulder as she slipped her other hand free, which found its way to the small of his back, pressing him closer to her. The connection his body made with hers sent an electric pulse deep in her belly, where it stayed and started to melt her insides.
Her lips responded back to his, dancing in tandem to each other's rhythm as they learned the curves and edges of the other's body. One of her hands pressed against his chest while the other held at his back tightly as she pushed him off and onto his back, before she settled herself astride him.
However, Sherlock did not remain lying down for long; he quickly sat up and wrapped his arms tightly around her as his lips assaulted hers. There was no gentleness this time as lips bruised lips and teeth narrowly avoided clashing into each other.
Giselle's arms enfolded the detective in them. His shirt bunched around her fists as she clenched her hands against his back, pulling his shirt out of his trousers, before they relaxed and glided over the hard planes of his shoulders and to his chest. Her fingers were as light as a ghost as they coasted around the collar and down to the buttons of his shirt. They lingered, fingering the smooth round edges indecisively.
Sherlock's lips twitched in amusement and a chuckle almost escaped. The insecurity that she was displaying was so outlandish on her, and yet so intimate to her character that it amused him.
His teeth grazed her lip roughly before his tongue smoothed over it softly.
She shivered as one of his hands moved up her leg and to her thigh, leaving gooseflesh in its wake and exposing her legs. His hands translocated to her bottom as he pulled her even closer to him, compressing her pelvis even tighter to him and hiking up her skirt higher in the process. A low groan escaped her throat as he squeezed her bottom lightly, before his hands moved down her thighs gently and slowly, and purposely leaving free access to his shirt.
She made quick work of the buttons, which came undone rather quickly under her deft fingers to uncover a hard chest. Giselle's lips left Sherlock's, breaking their kiss for much needed air and the pleasing visual she was sure she would get.
Her stormy eyes drifted down to his chest, her teeth biting her lower lip to try and stop the wicked grin that was forming. His musculature was not as well defined as she would have seen on the media or TV back home. His physique was a lot more similar to someone skilled in martial arts than weights, like most men her age were back home. Her teeth lost their control over lip as the cheeky grin she had been trying to withhold betrayed her pleasure at what she had managed to accomplish.
Her hands slid under his shirt and up his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake, as her lips sought his skin and placed a kiss on his chest before continuing her path up the column of his throat and back to his lips.
Sherlock's arms tightened around her waist, squeezing her breath out of her, and he frowned. His hands felt around her waist, her back and up the sides of her breasts and his frown deepened, causing the blonde woman to frown back at his actions. "What exactly..." he murmured as his fingers swiftly undid her shirtwaist and pushed it off her body. His frown did not lessen; however, she could see that the heat in his gaze had increased significantly.
Her torso was bare to his gaze in front of him, except for two triangular pieces of fabric over her breasts that was tied firmly to her body with what seemed to be ribbons.
"I...it's more comfortable." She offered lamely. However, Sherlock seemed to be beyond explanations. He was enthralled with what she was wearing. His fingers stroked the ribbons till they found the bows keeping them tied behind her neck and back. His dark eyes drifted to her stormy ones as his lips placed an open mouthed kiss behind her ear.
"My dear Giselle, you never cease to astound me." He whispered, just before his fingers pulled at the bows, undoing them quite easily.
His eyes swept down over her body, taking in every curve, dip and rise of her skin.
Her body was so different to the everyday woman. Her waist, while quite slim, was not like that of a wasp when compared to the rest of her body. She had no deformity. Instead, she had the strength of lean muscle and sensuality of the natural female form.
It was clear that she did not wear a corset to fit into clothes, but got clothes that fit her.
He couldn't resist running his hands softly up her sides.
Her muscles were taut underneath her fair skin; as smooth as satin underneath his gentle caress, which was leaving gooseflesh in its wake. His gaze swept up to her breasts; firm and proud with pebbled peaks, begging to be touched, or so he thought.
"Cold?" He whispered as his hands tightened around her waist. "Not really." She replied just as softly, just before his arms slid quickly and tightly round her and his lips engulfed hers. Her arms sought anchor round him and her fingers in his dark hair as she responded back with matching vigour.
"Just like Cabanel's Venus." He said between searing hot kisses. "But better." His lips moved down her throat, as she closed her eyes and leaned back her head, allowing more access to that particular sweet spot. "So much better." Her fingers tightening in his hair and her legs squeezing around his waist must have alerted him of his discovery as he paused and placed another kiss before nipping at it with his teeth and soothing the reddened skin with the tip of his tongue.
His attention moved down her chest as he pressed her lower back and pelvis even closer to himself. The cool air assaulted her violated skin, causing a choked groan to escape the blonde woman. The rough vocalisations from her encouraged him to turn them around, pressing her back to the floor as his hand stroked up her thigh and the other helped him keep his balance. His hand slid higher and higher, disappearing underneath her skirt and his lips found hers once more, her tongue beckoning him for more.
He paused once again, his hand on her upper thigh and drawing his lips away.
"Should I continue, would I find another surprise waiting for me?"
A mischievous smile graced her lips. "For you? No, dear, my clothes are for my own satisfaction." She placed a chaste kiss on his lips, before she moved her lips to his ear. "Though I'm quite sure you'd be satisfied as well."
Her smile turned from mischievous to wicked at his sharp intake of air.
"Perhaps, you could convince me to share next time." She continued, her soft breath tickling his ear as her hand grasped his which had desperately tried to continue its path upwards.
He groaned, his eyes closing as he rested his forehead against her shoulder for a couple of moments. He placed a kiss on the freckle on her shoulder and looked in her eyes. His hand had abandoned her thigh and moved to the side of her head, gently stroking her scalp through her golden curls.
"Would a 'please' help my cause?" He said, a small smile on his lips, showing his amusement at their game.
"Depends on how nicely you act it out."
He chuckled at her words and pressed his lips to hers in a close mouthed chaste kiss which lasted for a couple of moments longer than necessary.
"I'm afraid that will have to wait for next time. We are out of time, as sad as that may be." He said.
She could only notice a couple of notes of disappointment in his voice. However, she reasoned, the fact that she could even note the dismay meant that he was not averse to what had just transpired.
And besides, he did not seem reluctant to repeat what had just happened.
'Not reluctant at all.' She thought as he helped her up, her cheeks hurting from trying to hide her smile.
She turned round and picked up her discarded clothes, which she quickly put back on. Giselle turned back to the detective silently on the ball of her foot, who, in her opinion, was observing the dying embers in the fireplace too casually.
She walked up behind him and placed the piece of paper she had stolen from his pocket in his palm before she leaned up to his ear.
"You were right, it was long overdue. We shouldn't let that happen again." She whispered, her lips brushing purposely against his ear, before she turned back and walked out to put on a pair of shoes.
So...that was long...thoughts? They finally did something...all that tiptoeing round each other...itwas both sweet and annoying at the same time. What do you think? Let me know in the reviews!
Oh, and please read the note before the chapter. There's a very important notice. I could copy and paste it down here, just to make sure you read it. But that is very childish, so I'm simply telling you that it is very very important.
Thanks again!