The World is Spinning Backwards
A/N: Here is the new chapter, sorry about the time wait. Just a warning there is some M rated content towards the end of the chapter, so if you want to skip it, I did not include warnings in the chapter as to where it is. Also, there is a poll on my profile that I would appreciate if you answered just to help me out with this series.
Chapter 36: 5 Months is too long to be Friends
"I don't know if I can do it Julianne." Emma told her best friend, who was helping her get ready. It had been 5 months since her reconciliation with Sherlock, and tonight he was coming up to see a play with her at the school.
"Do what sweetheart?" Julianne asked as she slipped on a skirt.
"Be friends with him; every time I see him I remember what it felt like, those months to be in love with him, and him not knowing. This is so much worse because I had it. I had him and now I don't, but I do and I just don't know if I can do this anymore."
"Then tell him that; I' sure he feels the same way."
"Heh; you don't know Sherlock." Emma said. "He can be cold, and he does what's best for him. I don't think I'm the best thing for him." Emma sighed.
She loved Sherlock, but if what he needed were not her…then maybe it would be best to let her friendship with him die. Being around him killed her, and she could not tell if he was better off for being with her or not.
"Honey, you've told me everything about your relationship with him. Everything." Julianne intoned.
Emmaline blushed.
"And, from what you've told me, you were good for each other. You made each other better. So go out tonight, and tell him. I'm not letting you in this dorm otherwise."
"You're so pushy." Emma sighed, playfully pushing against Julianne.
"Because I know what's best for you." Julianne said, putting a light finishing touch on her makeup.
"Are you seeing Adriana tonight?" Emma asked, noting her friends carefully chosen outfit.
"I am; I think tonight's the night." Julianne winked.
Emma rolled her eyes, fixing her mascara. "So that's why you want me out of the dorm tonight, so you can have hot sex."
Julianne laughed raucously. "Just tell him, OK sweetie?"
Emma looked at her friend and nodded.
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Sherlock carefully leaned his head against the cool glass of the taxi window. It was a cool May night and he was heading up to Cambridge to see a play with Emmaline – Hamlet, her favorite. The closer they got to the school, the more he fidgeted. He was nervous about seeing her; he always was.
It had been a tense five months, trying to be her friend again. After everything they had done…Sherlock was unsure about this. Every time she was in the same room he had trouble keeping up their conversation. All he could look at where her lips and her eyes, her long legs; all he could think about were those legs wrapped around him as they made love in bed or the fire and passion in those eyes whenever she had approached him, like a jungle cat slinking towards prey and those lips…the places those lips had touched.
Sherlock crossed his legs and brought his sleeves down further to grip them with his palms – a nervous habit. He had no idea how to do this – be normal. Mycroft was no help at all. Of course, he had come over after Emmaline had left and told him that he knew about the nature of their relationship; Mycroft had told him that he was smart to let her go for her safety.
Sherlock had sat forlornly in his armchair, thinking how Mycroft was no help at all. And that his brother had had the worst luck in love. Married at twenty-five, his wife had died a few short years later; Mycroft still wore his wedding band on his right hand to remember her. Since then he had closed himself off, but Sherlock knew a man had recently entered the picture. He wished his brother well, and hoped that he would finally find someone to love him again, and to love someone in return. Maybe it would get him off Sherlock's case all the time.
Sherlock gave the cabbie directions to where Emmaline had told him to meet her – and there she was – radiant as always. His heart stopped as it always did when he saw her. He swallowed the lump in his throat. 5 months is too long to be only friends, he thought to himself.
Emma waited patiently as Sherlock took care of the cab and came up to greet her.
"Lovely to see you." He whispered, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
She sighed happily to feel his lips on her skin. He noticed and drew back carefully, wondering. She caught her slip however, and her face was a mask of friendliness.
"Come on, the play is starting soon." She hooked her arm through his and led him inside.
Her friend Julianne was already waiting with her girlfriend, Adriana, and had saved the two of them seats. After a round of introductions, all four of them had settled in to watch the beginning of the play.
Sherlock found himself fighting the urge to lean over and whisper to her, or take her hand. It was sitting right there on the armrest they shared, like in the old days. When they were together and they would go do things like this.
He closed his eyes and let his mind slip away; happier thoughts. What if she had never been hurt? He would still be here at this play with her, but they would be holding hands. Her knee would playfully bump into his and they would have to fight their giggles from the back row. During intermission, they would slip away somewhere to share a few heated kisses before coming back and enjoying the rest of the show, something different on their minds. He sighed and opened his eyes, focusing again on the stage. Hamlet had just said one of the famous lines: "The play is the thing, wherein I'll catch the conscious of the king."
The curtain closed and the house lights came up, signaling the time for intermission. The play was moving by quickly, Sherlock thought. He looked over and saw, to his amusement, that Emmaline's friend Julianne had Adriana's violet lipstick smeared across her mouth.
"You might want to tell your friend to hide the evidence of her playtime tryst." He whispered in Emmaline's ear.
She looked over at her friend and laughed. "Julie, she left it all over you!" Emma giggled, licking her thumb and trying to wipe some of it off.
Sherlock reached into his pocket and leaned across Emmaline, handing Julianne a napkin.
"Thanks." She responded, wiping away more of the evidence.
"Honestly, were you not paying attention at all?" Emma asked.
"I heard whenever they would shout – but most of it no." Julianne answered honestly.
Emmaline turned a light pink. If she and Sherlock were still together, it would be Julianne asking the question and not her.
"I better go to the bathroom while I have a chance." Emmaline said, standing.
"I should go as well." Sherlock said, also standing.
The truth was that he did not want to be left alone with Emmaline's friend. He knew that she was dying to talk to him, probably to ask questions and he wanted nothing less.
"OK." Emma said awkwardly, waiting for Sherlock to leave the aisle. She turned to look at Julianne who only winked at her. She sighed; her friend was no help at all.
As they walked down the hall to the restrooms, Emma could sense the distance between them. It wasn't just physically, though Sherlock was practically on the other side of the hallway. She felt as if the Great Wall of China had been erected between them. He was far away, too far to reach out and touch.
She felt as though she were on the brink, falling into the darkness and only touching him would bring her back – just a brush of the fingers against his arm and she would be safe, for a time. Of course she had thought that before. And she moved past him, sort of. She had been getting better, the calls fewer and far between, she had been forgetting the smell of him. With one phone call all of that had come rushing back with perfect clarity.
They separated, each going through their own door and they thought of what had happened between them. Emmaline thought it had been extremely selfish, Sherlock thought it had kept her safe. The cases he worked were dangerous and she had been put in the middle of it.
He told himself this, but all he could think about was lifting her up onto the bathroom counter and making him as close as possible with her as he could. He shook his head, ran cold water over his face. None of that was possible anymore…she was not his.
Sherlock stepped back into the hall, waiting for Emmaline. It would be rude to make her walk back by herself; he was her guest. She came out of the bathroom still massaging leftover hand lotion into her skin.
Emma smiled, happy to see him there. If she was going to tell him at all, she should do it now. They were alone and for some reason she felt her courage bolstered by the sight of him here, waiting on her. She opened her mouth and took a step forward…and was falling.
Sherlock took a step forward and caught her in his arms. Emma looked down at her shoe – the heel had cracked and she had lost her balance.
"Stupid thing." She said, gripping Sherlock's arm tighter.
He smiled softly and helped her to stand, but left his arms around her, the softest of touches. He had missed this, her warm body near his. Emma looked up and her breath caught in her throat; he was so close, she could see the yellow and green in his blue-looking eyes.
Sherlock swallowed, hard. He leaned forward and rested his cheek against hers, breathing in the orange scent her hair still held. It was his favorite, and he was glad it still lingered. She inhaled the intoxicating scent of vanilla, leather, and tobacco that she had come to associate with him. Not sure how he could smell so much like home after all these months, she inhaled deeply.
He rested a hand on the small of her back, feeling the soft contours had not changed, and his hand still fit there perfectly. She nudged his cheek with hers and made him look her in the eyes. Sherlock noted the same fire in her eyes as before.
Bringing a hand up to cup her face, he wondered how he ever could have thought that being only her friend could have been a good idea. Sherlock needed her as a fire needed oxygen. Slowly, giving her plenty of time to react angrily, to slap him, to run away, he moved his mouth closer to hers.
She waited patiently, closing her eyes, resting her hand on his back, trying to anchor herself to this moment. When his sweet lips finally touched hers, it felt like she had gone months without breathing and finally had her first breath of air. He felt like a tiny candle with a withering flame that burst into an inferno.
Lips eagerly crashed against lips as they reunited themselves to their passion in that darkened University hallway. Sherlock's hand gripped Emmaline's hip, pulling her towards him, crushing their bodies together in their sweet ecstasy.
Finally, she pulled away for air, smiling with her tingling lips. Sherlock pressed another gentle kiss to her temple, memorizing the way her skin felt against his lips.
"I have to go." He whispered against her skin.
"What? The play's only half over." She protested, pulling back to look at him.
Sherlock shook his head. "I've made a mistake." He whispered, more to himself than to her. "I pushed you away to keep you safe; I'm sorry Emmaline, I have to go."
Sherlock drew his arms from around her and turned to walk away, leaving Emmaline standing there, confused and hurt.
"So that's it?" She shouted. "You love me but that's a mistake?"
Sherlock looked down, never stopped walking; his cab was waiting for him where he had left it.
Emmaline watched him leave, tears starting to spill forth and run across her cheeks. I will show you Sherlock Holmes; you feel the same way I do.
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Emmaline shut her car door and placed her heeled foot on the pavement. It had been two weeks – it was now the beginning of June and Emma was now nineteen – since Sherlock had left her in the hall alone. She had told herself after that that she would make him see he felt the same way, or die trying. One last attempt to get him to admit his feelings. So here, she was in Westminster, at his flat. Emmaline had it on good authority from Lestrade that Sherlock was out on a case right now and would not be home for an hour at least.
She planned to ambush him with a home cooked meal so they could sit down and talk – actually talk. She locked her car and hurried inside the building and into his flat. Emmaline Johnson was not one to give up easily, and this time she would not. She had lay down and taken it last time – now she would at least fight for what she wanted.
She set about making him dinner – fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans. By the time a surprised Sherlock walked through the door forty-three minutes later the table was set, wine had been poured into glasses and candles were flickering.
He took his gloves off, standing shocked at what he saw before him.
"I saw your car…but I didn't think it was really you."
"It's me; I made dinner."
"I see that." Sherlock replied, shedding his coat and hanging it up. If it were not for the tension in the air, it would feel like when they were together.
"I thought we could talk some more; that we needed to talk." She said, pulling out her chair and sitting down.
Sherlock nodded, sitting in his own chair. "What would you like to talk about?" He asked, trying to play dumb.
She cocked a brow. "You kissed me a few weeks ago Sherlock." She fought to keep control of her voice. "You practically admitted that you still had feelings and then you left, again." She failed to keep the anguish from her trembling voice as she accused him.
Sherlock put down his fork. "Everything I have done – letting you go, and leaving last night, it was to keep you safe. It was idiocy to start seeing you again in any capacity. I investigate dangerous men Emmaline, and that puts me in danger. By default, that puts anyone close to me in danger and I cannot see you get hurt again." He licked his lips before continuing.
"There was never any issue of whether or not I loved you – not to me. It was how much I loved you; if I loved you enough to keep you safe."
Emmaline listened as he made this confession. All those months of crying and pining, and making drunk calls…and he had still loved her?
"You told me you never wanted to see me again." She said, confused.
"I said whatever I had to, to get you to go away."
"You bastard; you don't get to decide that for me, what makes me safe." Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but Emma held up a hand. "I get to decide what I want; you do not get to make that decision for me. You should have told me all this Sherlock. It would have saved us both months of heartbreak."
"Emmaline, I still stand by what I said before – you're safer away from me. I think you should leave."
Emma smiled and stood. "Not gonna happen." She said softly, coming around to his side of the table. "I'm staying, Sherlock, with you. You cannot make me leave for my safety, because I am safe with you. What happened was a freak accident and it won't happen again." She promised, trailing a hand down his arm.
"I want to believe that you'll be safe here but…"
"It isn't a matter of safe, Sherlock. I love you and I'm not leaving you because of something that stupid." She kissed his cheek. "Now shut up and kiss me."
There was a moment of hesitation before Sherlock complied. His lips fervently met hers, followed presently by his arms around her hips, dragging her into his lap. If she was going to be here, he might as well take advantage of it. His hot hands gripped her waist as his tongue traced her lips. Emma's hands grabbed roughly at his curly brown hair, her fingers gripping handfuls of it.
He moaned against her mouth before gripping her thighs and standing, bringing her with him. She swung her legs around his waist and he carried her the short distance to the couch, unable to wait. Sherlock flopped her down unceremoniously before descending, ripping the green skirt she wore in an effort to remove it.
Emma smiled at his eagerness and began unclothing him with the same fervor and ignited passion. As she worked on the buttons of his shirt she kicked her heels off, hearing the thud as they landed on the wood floor.
Sherlock kissed his way up from her ankles, to her calves and her thighs. He had missed this, missed her so much…he did not want a moment to go to waste. He never wanted her to go again. He avoided her with great skill, moving ever upwards to her stomach.
The skirt had been ripped from her dress and he quickly gripped the fabric of her blouse and pushed it up her stomach, over her breasts; she quickly aided in the effort, working the shirt off over her head.
He took a quick moment to take off his jacket and unbuttoned shirt. As Sherlock pressed his lips to her stomach, each rib, he kicked off his own shoes. Impatient, Emmaline gripped his belt with steady fingers and deftly removed it. She had become practiced in their short time lovemaking before. Emma yanked his trousers over his hips and he helped kick them off; finally unburdened he pressed himself against her and kissed her, invading her mouth with his tongue.
Emma moaned, raking her fingers up his thigh and gripping him in her hand. Sherlock sighed against her hot mouth; nothing felt like her. She pushed against his shoulder and he complied with her unspoken wishes, twisting them around so she was on top.
Emmaline gave him the same attentions he had brought to her, trailing up and down his body with sweet kisses and caresses before finally she decided enough was enough, and took him between her lips.
Sherlock whimpered at the sensation, taking a fistful of her hair in his hand, not wanting her to stop. She danced her tongue artfully across him spurred on by his moans of pleasure and the way he writhed on the couch. She loved the power she had.
Finally, Sherlock had to stop her. "If you don't stop now, I'm going to cum."
"Oh, that would be a shame." Emma replied, moving up his body to kiss his lips.
Sherlock eagerly took the opportunity to flip her back onto the couch.
"I think it's only fair I return the favor." Sherlock said, moving his hands down to her thighs before forcing them apart; playfully, he licked his lips before descending on her.
Emma squirmed and clamped her thighs together, trapping him there, making love to her with his tongue. She combed her fingers through his hair, her whole body on fire; she needed that sweet release but he was being so damn teasing that she could not.
"Sherlock, please god." She begged, her toes curling.
Her love smiled and moved towards her; his face was over hers and she saw his chin glistening in the candlelight. Tentatively she flicked her tongue out to lick his lips. Surprised by her candor, Sherlock laughed.
"Do you want to cum?" He asked, whispering in her ear.
Emma gripped his shoulder tight in her hand, her nails digging into his skin.
"Please Sherlock; I want you." She whispered back.
That was all it took for the fire to alight in his eyes. With one deft move he was inside her; she cried out at the sensation of being filled; he cried out in sweet ecstasy.
She wrapped her legs around his back, drawing him in further, closer to her. He used all the strength he could muster to piston back and forth, to leave her almost empty and then thrust back in with the force of his need.
After a few minutes, he changed pace and slowed down, drawing it out in between new bursts of speed that had her rocking against the arm of the couch. Her body lit on fire before she screamed at the explosion and rocked right back against him, urging him on to his release. It came a few short seconds later as he too entered the sweet land that his partner had just entered.
They collapsed onto the couch together, Emma wrapped in Sherlock's arms, and their legs intertwined. Sherlock kissed the side of her head, his heaving lungs trying to calm.
"Oh Sherlock…" she whispered, snuggling her form closer to him.
"Emmaline, stay; stay here with me."
"I want to." She answered. "Oh, I want to."
"Transfer to a school here Emmaline; marry me."
"What?" She propped herself up on an elbow and turned to face her lover.
"Marry me; right now. I mean, we'll go down to the courthouse tomorrow and get a license…and wait however many days until we can legally be married."
"How romantic." Emma replied; inside her heart was bursting. She wanted to throw herself at him and make love to him again; of course she wanted to marry him; Sherlock was the love of her life!
"No, I mean it. I love you Emmaline and I want to be yours forever, and I want you to be mine. I never want to be separated from you; you mean everything to me, more than my work."
Emma smiled. "That was pretty romantic for Sherlock Holmes." She conceded. She held his chin in her hand and leaned in for a sweet kiss. "I'll marry you, yes." She said against his mouth.
Sherlock smiled and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in for a deeper kiss, trying to convey the happiness he felt. The happiness that, as a cold logician, he could not describe. His heart felt like it was about to burst.
"I love you Sherlock." Emma said sleepily as she settled in against him.
"I love you too." Sherlock replied, closing his eyes and pulling a blanket over them.
"I'm glad we had this talk then." She said with a smile before she fell asleep.
Sherlock smiled and settled down, her warm body in his arms; everything seemed right.
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"Do you, Emmaline Lillian Johnson, take Sherlock Holmes to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
Emma smiled at Sherlock out of the corner of her eye. They stood in the courthouse a week later, Sherlock dressed smartly in a suit and tie and Emmaline wearing a little white dress and skinny black belt and heels.
"I do." She replied.
They were doing exactly what Sherlock had suggested: eloping. When they had entered the courthouse for their appointment, she had thought she had seen Mycroft sitting in the back.
"Do you, Sherlock Holmes, take Emmaline Lillian Johnson to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
Sherlock stood straighter and lifted his chin. "I do."
"By the power vested in me I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Sherlock Holmes. You may now kiss the bride."
Sherlock turned to Emma and ran a loving hand down her cheek; he leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his warm lips against hers pouring all his love into this one physical gesture, trying to tell her how happy he was to be her husband.
Emma flung her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, a happiness coursing through her veins. There seemed to be a glow of joy surrounding the happy couple that shined bright for all too clearly see.
Sherlock drew back to look into his wife's brown eyes and saw unmistakably the love she held for him there.
"So what do you say Mrs. Holmes, how about we get out of here?" Sherlock asked.
Emma smiled; she knew Lestrade had called with a case for him a few minutes before the ceremony.
"I couldn't think of a better honeymoon." She replied.
They walked hand-in-hand outside, past Mycroft who gave Emmaline a nod of approval, and stopped outside. Sherlock threw his hand up and hailed a cab, helping his new wife into the backseat.
Neither of them had rings, there would be no reception. They were not even planning to tell their few friends that they had gotten married. They wanted to keep it a secret for as long as they could, just theirs. They were each other's one and only.
Sherlock leaned in for a chaste kiss before they got the crime scene; he knew it was not her ideal after wedding trip but both of them were poor, and busy. They had no time for time away but that did not bother either of them. Emmaline was happy if Sherlock was happy, and double homicides interested him.
"After you Mr. Holmes." She said when the cab stepped at the scene.
"Always after you Mrs. Holmes." Sherlock replied, giving her a quick kiss. "I will never tire of saying that."
Emma smiled and got out after Sherlock, both of them going back to the usually friendly demeanor they held around Lestrade. Sherlock immediately ignored everyone on the scene and snapped the latex gloves against his wrists, stooping down to investigate.
"So I see you two are OK again." Lestrade commented. "Anything interesting happen?" He asked.
Emma smiled and tilted her head, gazing at her best friend and husband. "No not really." She replied with a grin.
A/N: Thanks so much for putting up with me and my slow posting recently! It's been more than a month guys and I'm so sorry! I hope to have the rest up by Christmas but no promises between work and school Oh, and just as a note, those of you who know there will be a third book to the trilogy that takes place during Season 2 called The Final Game. I have decided that there will be another untitled book after that but I can't say a lot about it right now