Love Is A Laserquest - Arctic Monkeys

I don't own anything!

"What do you mean, 'the only man you'll ever love'?" His words were quick, and it was honestly the most shock she had ever seen him in.

"I don't understand the question." Sherlock huffed.

"Tell me about you two, and if you don't, I will make you jump off the balcony." Before he realised what he had said, Ramona's furious eyes snapped towards him.

"Is that supposed to be funny, Detective?" Ramona asked herself how much more anger could she take before she turned into the hulk. It wasn't a lot.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." He genuinely looked like he was sorry, so she grudgingly obliged.

"Fine, fine, I'll tell you." Her words, and tone, resembled a tired parent begrudgingly agreeing to tell their over-demanding child a bedtime story.

"Go on." He looked alert.

"When I was fifteen, he was eighteen. That was the age we started going out." She sighed, waiting for the inevitable backlash.

"Eight- fifteen?! Ramona, I'm sure you realise this, but in the eyes of the law you were still a minor, and he was taking advantage of you." He was ricidulously vexed at this, and couldn't bear the thought a pure, sweet Mona being taken and ruined by this disgusting piece of filth, and turned into the twisted, troubled Ramona that he knew today.

"Alright, PC Plod, I realise that it's what everyone thinks at first, but it was only a three year gap, and I was 'an impressionable young girl with no father figure'." She makes sarcastic air speech marks with her fingers, and get up from her seat, walking across the room to the mini fridge, and grabbing two bottles, one of coke, and one of vodka. She also got out a short glass with a deceivingly large diameter, and then turned around, whilst still crouching.

"Want anything?" He looked disapproving. "Don't worry, I'm not a minor now." He sighed, and let his head loll back to rest on the couch back, displaying his pale neck.

" 'Things couldn't get much worse, so why not add alcohol?' " He said, imitating her sarcastically. "I hate your northern way of thinking." She laughed, despite herself.

"That's the motto!" She took out another glass, and another bottle of vodka, intending to get at least a bit tipsy. "I'm taking that as a yes." If this was any other situation, he may of cracked a smile at her remark, but she was too worried about her.

Ramona set down the two identical glasses and the bottles on the glass coffee table inbetween them, and looked up at him.

"What'll it be?" She said, although she knew what he was going to say, judging from the sigh that he gave out, one of complete exasperation.

"Just vodka." She smirked, as her guess had been right on the money. She then decided to abandon the normal glasses and the bottle of coke she had gotten, and just go straight to shot glasses. She filled them, and they both took a shot.

Sherlock made a face of complete disgust, and Ramona laughed.

"Breathing makes it even worse." He remarked, and then looked to her, who was only slightly phased by it. "I've decided you drink too much."

"I decided that a long time ago." She laughed, but he still wouldn't loosen up.

"Don't change the topic. I want the story." She sighed, bring her heightening spirits back down.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I have trouble talking about it without getting-" His stare was pitiful, and it made her stop in her tracks. She neither needed nor wanted sympathy from him. In fact, what was it she wanted from him? "Two more each, and then I'll start." She knew for a fact that he was a lightweight, and she wanted to make sure he didn't remember the story.

"I know what you're trying to do, but I'm going to do it anyway, because if I don't, I think I might go mad."

"Again?" She smirked at her own muttered joke, but filled the glasses twice again. By now, she thought that they were both a little tipsy, but still serious.

"From the beginning." She nodded, and swung her legs around into her old position, legs dangling over the arm of the chair. By this time, they had ditched the glasses, and had started drinking straight from a bottle each.

"Before I met Kain, I was, and I'm not exaggerating, I was an angel." Was she saying she was now a devil? "I went to church every sunday because I wanted to, I studied for three hours everyday after school, I never swore, I never broke my curfew, I never challenged anyone, I never did anything illegal, never dressed the way I do now, and I definitely never smoked, got drunk, or did drugs."

"So basically, you were someone I had never met before."

"Ha ha, very funny, Mr Holmes." Sherlock had figured out by now that she only called him that when she was either intoxicated, or in an extremely playful mood.

"How did you meet?" He realised he was starting to sound like a nosy middle aged woman, but it was the intense curiousity she always brought him that made him so pestering.

"It was actually not romantic at all, but I suppose I thought it was right out of a fairy tale." She gave a short, harsh laugh, which was actually just anger at herself.

Ramona looked around, and kept walking. She honestly didn't know what she was doing in the city centre at a time like this, but she had lost track of everything, and she had gone on autopilot, her concentration on her own thoughts. She checked her small leather strap wristwatch, and saw that the the time was quarter past eleven, on a summers night. Needless to say, her mother wouldn't be home until at least four am on her night shift, and neither would Ciara, as it was apparently 'party season', or whatever she had said. Ramona had no desire whatsoever to go home to an empty house and realise how lonely she actually was, which she had lowkey felt since she could remember. The streets were surprisingly quiet, and there was a large full moon hung in the sky, along with a litter of small stars.

Suddenly, there are running footsteps coming towards her. Ramona stops in fear and braces herself, not sure what was about to come around the corner. She could hear a siren wailing in the distance. Was it a criminal? Should she run?

She had, however, run out of time. One of the most good looking men she had ever seen came sprinting around the corner, dressed in an outfit that definitely pinned him as a troublesome lad, to say the least. He was tall, dark, and handsome, and she thought for a second that it could be fate.

When he saw her, his eyes widened for a second, and he stopped sprinting and came to a halt besides her. He held out a wad of fifty pound notes, and she realised that there was at least three grand in that one bundle. She almost took a step back, but she wasn't afraid. She held out her hand, and he placed the money in it.

"Put this in your bag." He had a deep, slightly out of breath voice. "meet me at 1 am in the riverside trees." He winked, and set off running again. She did as he said, her mouth dry and her heart beating so fast she thought she may be having a heart attack. Ramona watched him turn and sprint up a snicket, hidden from sight, just as two police cars zoomed past her. When they were at a safe distance, Ramona started to laugh, and it was honestly the heartiest laugh she had ever heard from herself, ever.

"I was already hooked, and I didn't even realise it."

"Mm, you sound like you were an idiot." She laughed.

"I was." She pointed at him in agreement. "Definitely."

Ramona stood in her knee length floral summer dress and kitten heels in the lonely, large group of trees where no one ever came, looking around for a sign of her mystery man.

"Hello." A voice from behind her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she span around to look at him. He was taller than she had thought, definitely six foot. He was dressed in all black, but in a fashionable way. Ramona realised she was at a loss for words. The man sat down on a large wooden bench.

"Hello." She finally came out with it. He laughed.

"You look very innocent, and yet you just committed major felony." Her eyes widened. "How do you feel?" She bit her lip, unsure of whether she should tell him the truth. She decided she may as well.

"The most excited I've ever been in my life." She blushed as she heard herself say it. It was honestly one of the most embarrassing things she had ever said. The darkness would have enveloped both of them, if not for the steady, and sometimes flickering, amber glow from the lamp. The criminal threw back his head and laughed. She watched, and decided it was definitely one of the best things she had ever seen.

"That's surprising." He remarked.

"How so?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, when you saw me, and when I approached you, you didn't look the least bit scared, as if being asked to meet a shady guy like me was a menial, every day task." She frowned. Now that she thought about it, she had been more entranced than anything else. "Why weren't you scared?" She thought about this.

"Maybe because... you're not scary?" His eyes widened, and at that moment, she realised his eyes were like a tiger's, or a wolf's. They were completely amber, and extremely strange.

"You're not afraid of me?"

"Why would I be?" His mouth parted, and that was the last thing she saw, before she was slightly winded, and lying on the bench, with a man she didn't even know the name of on top of her, a knee either side of her, his left hand pinning her wrist to the wood, the right on the right side of her head.

"Because;" His voice had changed, now animalistic. Ramona realised she had not thought properly about the situation, because she saw him as such a low risk. "I'm a criminal, I'm a man who doesn't care about the law, or any rules. All I care about, is taking what I want." His voice resonated with her, as he lowered himself closer. "Can you guess what I want at this moment?"

"You wouldn't." Her voice was small, but strong.

"Wouldn't I?" His grin revealed perfectly white, straight teeth. As expected from a handsome man, but not from a criminal. "For a seemingly smart girl, you're surprisingly dim when it comes to sexual harassment." Her eyes widen. "You don't even know my name, I could easily get away with it." At this point, it becomes apparent to Ramona that he was bluffing.

"You don't scare me." Her voice was surprisingly convicting. He frowned momentarily, and then smirked.

"Then why is your heart racing?" She blushes and looks away, and decides that she would most probably never see this man again, so she may as well win the argument.

"My body's reacting like that because I'm attracted to you." She would of shrugged if she was stood up. His eyes widen.

"Well you don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"It's just a mix of primal instincts, hormones and chemicals." She looks back up at him. "It's got nothing to do with me." He laughed.

"Tell me, how old are you?" Her face went blank. If he found out, would he get grossed out and leave? She decided to tell the truth, as it would only cause her trouble later.

"Fifteen, sixteen October the twenty fifth of February." Her birthday was only two months away, and sixteen was the legal age, so how could he be shocked? He instantly got off her, but didn't walk away. He helped her sit back up with him. He looked at her with a smile she hadn't seen before.

"Scorpio and Cancer are compatible." It was Ramona's turn to laugh.

"So the fear-worthy criminal is into astrology? And not only that, is also the most sensitive zodiac sign going?" She laughed again, and he almost looked embarrassed, before putting a finger to her lips. She stopped immediately, and her cheeks flushed at the minimal contact. He smirked at this. There were a few seconds of silence.

"Can I ask you something else?" Her heart skipped a beat at this suggestive sentence.

"What is it?"

"Are you a virgin?" He said bluntly, as if asking a stranger the time of day.

"Am I a-" She went a shade of scarlet in the dark. He looked at her expectingly. "What do you think?" She said, half sarcastic, half actually curious.

"I think you're the most interesting, endearing, clever and innocent girl I've ever met, and I think someone very lucky's probably beaten me to it." Her eyes widen to the biggest they had probably ever been.

"Well, you're wrong, actually." She said hesitantly. Would he laugh? Instead, he had a smug smile on his face.

"Well then, do me a favour, and keep it that way until your birthday."

"Why?" The man got up, and so did she. She wanted him to stay more than anything.

"Because I want it." He said nonchalantly.

"You want what?" He turned around and leaned down, his big plain leather jacket hanging down, and he put a gentle hand on the side of the girl's face, and with a smirk, said a sentence that would forever change the course of her destiny.

"I want to be your first." Her mouth parted and she looked down at her side, blushing yet again, and for some reason it didn't irritate him. "Have you even kissed anyone yet?" Her heartbeat was ridiculously fast, and she knew that he must have been able to feel the heat turn up a notch on her face. She didn't have to answer. "In that case, I'll give you something to remember me by." She looked up with wide eyes, and before she could say anything, his lips softly touched hers. She closed her eyes. He put another hand on the small of her back, causing her to step closer to him, and kiss him back. Her body was a mess, limp and numb from the shock and submission, yet electric and the most alive she had ever felt. He made her open her mouth, and before she knew it, the kiss was much more heated. The hand at the small of her back made its was to her waist, and she was becoming more of a mess by the second.

Suddenly, he broke away from the kiss, and took his hands off her. She looked shocked, not at the man, but more at herself. For a starter, she didn't even know his name. She was disgusted with herself, and would definitely be going to church this Sunday.

"For a first kiss, that was..." His voice trailed off, and she looked up, to see that he was blushing ever so slightly. She let out a giggle. His stance changed. "satisfactory."

"You talk like you're the most suave man around, and yet here you are, blushing after the most innocent of kisses." She giggles again, and he raises an eyebrow.

"It's anger." She stopped laughing instantly, and looks up in shock.

"A-anger?" Had she done something wrong? Was he angry at her for being so bad at kissing?

"I'm angry at myself." He said, in the most serious of tone she had heard him speak in that night. "No matter how you act, or what you look like, you're still a minor, and how I feel right now makes me angry, because although I have too much self control for my own good, you make it look as if I'm..." He couldn't even get himself to say it, the shame on his face was apparent.

"Taking advantage?" He nods.

"I'm sorry if I did something you'll come to regret later." He says, his tone almost hollow. How many sides were there to this guy? She shakes her head.

"I don't like being bored." He frowns at her. "My whole life has been boring, up until around quarter past eleven today. If you hadn't of committed that crime, or if I hadn't of been looking for something to interest me, we would never have met." She wasn't quite sure where she going with this. "I was looking for something, and I found it. You were looking for something, and you found it. Do you believe in fate?" She had said a lot of embarrassing things tonight, or this morning, but that was definitely the most cringe-worthy. She thought he might laugh.

"Not until tonight." She was shocked that he said something like that. "I also didn't fully believe in astrology until tonight." He looks around the trees. "Did you know that Scorpios are considered 'old souls', too wise for their own good?" Was he complimenting her? She wasn't quite sure how to respond. He looked up into the sky and sighed. "Meet me here tomorrow night, at eleven pm." She nodded, and he started to walk away. She watched him go, and then realised something.

"Wait!" She cried out, in spite of herself. His broad shoulders stopped, and his head turned to the side. She ran over to him. "You said that you didn't want me to do something I regret later, and I said I wouldn't regret it, but..." He frowned in horror. "I'll regret it hugely, if I have to tell my children that my first kiss was with a complete stranger." He smiled, seemingly relieved.

"Kain, with a K." He said, in a tone that made it not even sound like a name. She paused, and met his eyes.

"Kain, with a K." She said, seeing how the new word felt in her mouth. His eyes widened at the sound of his name coming from her, and then walked away,his hands in his jeans pockets, an indescribable confidence powering his slightly swaggering walk.

"That sounds literally nothing like you." Sherlock stated, legs spread wide, his arms spread along the back of the sofa back. He was just about half undressed, his shirt undone three extra button, with no suit jacket. He looked strangely powerful in this position.

"I told you, I was literally a different person." He laughed at nothing in particular.

"But, I must admit, that story has me quite angry."

"Angry?"

"Because I..." He meets her eyes with quite a hard intensity for someone who was drunk. "Wanted to be the one to take you." Her big blue eyes got even bigger, and he began guffawing. She looked flustered, especially now that she realised it had been to poke fun at her.

"Shut up, at least I had someone to take me." His laughing stopped, and she knew she had crossed the line.

"I could have had a number of women, all extremely beautiful, by western standards of beauty."

"I can count them on one hand."

"Go on then." She raised an eyebrow.

"Molly, Irene." She looked up at him, and they both begin laughing.

"There were lots at university."

"That's probably because you were the closest thing resembling a man that actually knew what he was doing."

"Or maybe they were just attracted to me." She laughed harshly.

"Did your immediate rejection turn them on? Were they all masochists?" He chuckled.

"No, it's just a fact that I'm attractive." He shrugs. "It's a gift." She stifles a laugh.

"State at least seven things that are attractive about you." He smiles, and then his eyes narrow.

"Or, you could."

"What?!"

"List at least seven things that are attractive about me. If you don't, then you have to sleep in my bed with me tonight." Ramona was greatly taken aback by the drunk detective, that was much more upfront about what he supposedly wanted.

"And what if I refuse?"

"Then I don't let you out of this room for twenty four hours." There was a moment of silence.

"Why are all these penalties so sexual, may I ask?" He laughed.

"I'm just joking. No offence, but if I wanted, I could easily go and steal the much more submissive Miss Hooper away from her apparent fiancee, and get her to do my bidding for the rest of my life, giving her fictional love, just because I could." Her mouth parted in shock.

"I've never heard you say something so evil." She said with a laugh that she knew shouldn't be there. "And by the way, you've already done all that, so check it off your bucket list."

"Come on, seven things." She sighed.

"Fine." His eyes lit up in excitement. She studied him, and there was a long silence.

"If you were in love with me, what would you find most appealing? It's quite simple really." This time, his voice sounded more sad than anything else. More silence. "Can you really not think of anything?" The man said, and although in that confident position, arms spread across the back of the couch, she heard the first thing that could ever be regarded as insecurity in Sherlock's baritone.

"No, I-" If she were in love with him. If. "Say hypothetically," She looked into his eyes. "I love you," His eyes widen and he looks away,his face flushes, with a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow. "Then, I suppose that reaction would have made my heart skip a beat." Was that the most embarrassing thing she had ever said? It definitely deserved a spot in the top ten.

"What do you mean?"

"Number one, of the list, would be your surprising innocence, that clashes heavily with your cockiness."

"That's just harsh. Do you really think that just because I've never done that, that I'm innocent?"

"It's not a bad thing."

"Yes it is. I don't want you to look at me as if... I'm innocent and not really on the level of other men, just because..."

"Sorry, I didn't realise-"

"So you think that?" He looked more inquisitive than angry, although he was definitely a strange cocktail of both. "You think I'm not on par with the other men in your life?" Other men? There was a pause. "Would you rather- rather be with Kain, purely because of that?" Rather? Why was he talking like we're a couple?

"You really are a lightweight, aren't you-"

"Answer my question."

"Which one? You've asked quite a lot tonight." She joked. His eyes showed he wouldn't laugh it off. "Well, I suppose... Us two are quite..." She decided to admit something she hadn't even to herself. "Don't let this get to your head, but I look up to you." His face showed complete shock. "You're an amazing detective, and honestly, if I tried it on with you, wouldn't that be completely disrespectful? I'm nowhere near on your level, and moreover-" She began to get flustered. Why did she feel she was reasoning with herself? And then, she looked back at Sherlock, and realised he was stood up, next to the coffee table, trying to unbutton his shirt.

Shocked, she flew up to him, and grabbed his hands.

"What are you doing?!"

"This settles it. From that answer, it's obvious you think he's better than me because of that small detail."

"It settles what exactly?" He looked her straight in the eye, deadly serious.

"The matter of us." He said, as if obvious. "Get on the bed, we're going to have sex." She takes a minute, steps back, and then begins laughing.

"Sherlock, remind me never to ply you with drink again, you get sexual, and it weirds me out." He looks shocked, and even a little hurt.

"I'm being serious." She starts to laugh even harder.

"Yeah okay, and in other news today, you hate smoking, and John is six foot three." She stifled another laugh by pinching her nose, not wanting to anger the already affronted detective. Taking another look, he did look genuinely embarrassed.

"The first time I show a sexual appetite, and I'm rejected." He grabs her arm, and pulls her onto the couch with him, in such a way that she's straddling him, as if doing an Irene Adler impression. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment and she tries to move off him, but he has her wrists in an iron grip. Oh what Irene Adler would have given to switch places with her.

"Sherlock..." She says, with a warning tone. The situation could spiral out of control at any second.

"Tell me." He pulls her wrists closer to him. She looked down at the bottle he had been drinking out of, to see it had been barely touched after the first three shots. Was this really the alcohol talking? "Tell me that you're not attracted to me in any way at all, and I'll let go." Her heart started to pound faster, as she fought with everything she had to not give in.

There was a metaphorical cage around Ramona's metaphorical heart that she had imagined long ago, when she had had her heart broken in the most brutal ways possible. It was made out of the thickest, most un-penetrable metal there was. She had imagined thousands, if not millions of huge padlocks that kept it secure, kept it from beating to the sound of another's heartbeat, kept it from being naive, trusting, and everything that should make a woman susceptible to love. She remembered how she had cried for days on end, not eating or sleeping, because of two men that had broke her heart, and they were both in this city. She was sitting on ones lap. She remembered how she had vowed to never marry for love, to never let her view on life become twisted because of something so bittersweet it drove people to kill. But then, she realised something. The padlocks, those huge, iron padlocks, that had been guarding her, keeping her safe, had been being subtlety unlocked every day, and now there were only a couple of hundred left. If she kept going like this... If he kept saying things, doing things that made her look twice, or listen too hard to be normal, what would she do? What would she do if or when she fell for him again, and what would he do? Would he laugh in her face? Tell her that love was an illusion for the weak-willed and stupid? If she well in love with either of them, her life right now, which she decided she liked, despite the petty arguments, the dusty flat, the miserable weather and the disgusting crimes, would that all be ruined? If she let herself, she knew she would. But her will was so strong, and so proud that it wouldn't let her be open with herself. Is it even what she wants? Does she want a home that'd be called a love nest, a stable relationship, and... Sherlock? It all came down to him. Did she really want him, did she really want to love him? More importantly, did she want to be loved by him? Was it possible? Could someone who had spent most of their life telling themselves they didn't need love, ever really love someone? Or did it just make the love that he could feel even stronger.

"Ramona,"He snaps her out of her internal monologue. His face was completely serious, his voice completely sober, and she suddenly believed that she had been tricked into thinking he was under the influence. "Tell me you're not in love with me." Her mouth opened in complete shock, and she realised that she didn't know how to answer.

Sorry for the massive flashback :/

Also sorry for the sort of cliffhanger lol

Thank you so much for reading! Review to make a little author's day!