AN: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter or Sherlock. They belong to their respective authors and writers. This is written for purely entertainment and no money is being made.
This is the 4th part of the Series - Adventures of a Detective and the Noirette. In case you haven't read the first three parts, I would strongly suggest you read those before reading this one. Though it can be read as a standalone as well, it won't make much sense. It'll be posted in two parts before we move on to Season 3.
It is obvious that many things have been changed according to my story, but many things are the same as the BBC's Sherlock. I've changed some events and timeline accordingly and I'll let you know as we go forward.
I would like to apologize for any mistakes in advance. Please do not copy this story anywhere.
Warning – Contains smut (enough that it might as well be porn)
January 2012
Molly's Home
"Hello!" Molly sang in a high-pitched voice as soon as she opened the door.
Helena gave a small smile before asking, "Can I come in?"
"Oh… uh… I was just about to…" Molly blabbered, her eyes shifting away uneasily, unsure about the situation.
"Helena."
The two women turned to look at the detective, who was now standing in the living room. Molly looked between the two, making sure that this is what Sherlock wanted before inviting Helena inside and closing the door behind her.
The three stood in Molly's living room for a long time – Sherlock and Helena staring at each other, while Molly looked apprehensive when Helena cleared her throat unnecessarily and asked, "How have you been?"
Sherlock merely shrugged, so Helena waved a bag in his direction and said awkwardly, "I bought some of your clothes."
He nodded once, staring at her intensely before asking dejectedly, "Is that all?"
"Yes," Helena responded.
When the two kept staring at each other, Molly laughed uncomfortably before looking at Helena and asking, "I was just about to make some tea. Would you like some?"
Though, before Helena could refuse, Sherlock was the one to reply, "Tea would be nice. Thank you, Molly."
Molly looked between the two again before nodding and hurrying to her kitchen with a frown. Once she was gone, Sherlock took a step towards Helena and started carefully, "Helena… I'm sorry for the things I said. I know I hurt you…"
She wasn't in the mood to listen. It had been more than a month since she'd seen him and knew he would be off to take care of Moriarty's network in another day or two… and she couldn't let him go on his own. Now that Teddy was back to school, she didn't need to worry about his safety until he came back for summer hols.
In a swift move, Helena sauntered in front of him, stopping whatever he was about to say. Sherlock didn't have the time to think. He felt one hand on the back of his neck, while the other was on his cheek, pulling him almost roughly against her body. It all happened so fast, he felt like he was dreaming. His eyes closed involuntarily, hands moving to cup her face between his palms as their tongues tangled, battling madly for dominance. Their bodies were pressed together as if they were one. The warmth consumed him as his fingers carded through her hair to taste more of her soft lips.
She pulled back to breathe, but he pulled her back in a desperate attempt to never let go. Her breath was hot against his as her hands scrabble all over his body. Sherlock tilted his head to explore every inch, every corner of her mouth. He felt the flush of heat across his cheeks and the adrenaline pooled down in his stomach. He felt the warmth radiating from her body, the combined thud of their heartbeats and distantly realised that he was hard.
He wanted to do every possible thing to Helena's body, explore every inch he hadn't before and have her do the same to him. They were hardly in the right place, Molly was in the next room, but he couldn't stop.
'Sentiment, dear brother?' He heard Mycroft mocking in his head and replied, 'Piss off!'
Right now, he could care less. Sherlock didn't think she would forgive him and he would get to kiss her again when something crashed and there was a gasp, "Oh!"
Much to his dismay, Helena pulled away from him and turned to look at the brunette, who was staring back with wide brown eyes.
"Molly." He uttered casually, making no move to remove his hands from Helena's waist and the back of her head.
Helena though, had other plans as she pulled away entirely, looking guilty for some reason Sherlock couldn't comprehend and whispered to Molly, "I… sorry!"
"What for?" He asked confused.
Helena hit her elbow in Sherlock's stomach to silence him, who grunted, but otherwise stayed silent. Then suddenly, her eyes widened when she realised she'd seen Molly 'dealing' with Arthur in a similar fashion. She thought horrified – 'Oh, Merlin! She was turning into Mrs Weasley.'
Ignoring the particular thought, she rushed towards the other woman and kneeled to help her pick up the broken tea cups, despite the vehement denial on Molly's part. Helena didn't miss the way those brown eyes looked anywhere but at her or how a tear fell down the pale cheek before the woman rushed back to her kitchen.
January 2012
On the Plane
For a long moment, Helena could do nothing but sit in Sherlock's lap, gasping for breath as she clutched onto his shoulders tightly. It had been a long time since they'd had sex and it was taking longer than usual for both of them to adjust. Sherlock rubbed her back in an unconscious effort to soothe her nerves as he tried not to come on the spot. He trembled along with her when she clenched around him – tightly, possibly too tightly. He pressed soft kisses on her cheeks, nose and down her neck until he felt her relax and she shifted tentatively.
Slowly the pain ebbed and Helena felt a feverish feeling of fullness. She pulled back and their eyes met – both hooded and blown wide. Then large hands settled on her hips, urging her upwards. Her legs felt like jelly, but she lifted herself, whining in the back of her throat as Sherlock's cock slid out of her. Halfway up, she dropped on the crotch once more, making both Sherlock and Helena moan simultaneously.
He took the moment to slip his tongue inside her mouth, kissing her like a starving man. Gently, he dragged her lower lip out with his teeth before sucking it between his lips. Sherlock made sure she was comfortable before bucking up and thrusting inside her. He buried his face between her breasts, licking and sucking wherever he could reach.
"Ah…" she gasped breathlessly as her hands held onto his shoulders and she bounced up and down on his cock.
They both came with each other's names on their lips, holding onto each other, never wanting to let go.
February 2012
Berlin
Helena stared at herself in the mirror with horrified fascination. Her breasts seemed ready to pop out any second and she knew that if she bent down, her satin panties would be visible. The dress, if it could be called that… accentuated every single curve she had… all in all, she looked like a high-profile escort. Perfect for the plan. 5'7 wasn't short by any means, but the red heels made her look taller… possibly enough, so she wouldn't have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss Sherlock. She could simply lean forward and take those luscious lips between her…
'… No! She wasn't going there!' She admonished herself. 'They needed to catch the man – one of the top Moriarty had. Sherlock had a plan and she had a part to play. She couldn't get distracted because of Sherlock's lips!'
Speaking of the devil, Sherlock stepped into the room and his eyes darkened when they fell on her skimpy outfit. He was wearing a blue-coloured shirt tucked in a pair of black jeans – his idea of blending in… which Helena thought was stupid at best. He looked like a model, nothing about him could 'blend in' as he attracted attention wherever he went.
Her eyes met his in the full-length mirror and she whispered, "Well?"
His eyes stayed on hers as he closed the door behind him. Striding over to her confidently, Sherlock's finger glided down her naked back to the edge of her dress where her flesh met the black cloth.
"I didn't think it would be this revealing." He mumbled hoarsely.
Helena arched an incredulous brow because what had he thought when he bought this ridiculous piece and 'gifted' it to her? She opened her mouth to tell him just that when he leaned down, pressing small kisses on her neck and she tilted her head to give him better access. His hand skimmed lower and he rubbed her backside before moving lower and down to her naked thighs. Her breath hitched when his long fingers trailed back up, slowly, teasingly, making her skin tingle.
Moulding his back to hers, he pressed his hips forward, deliberately pressing his very prominent erection, right between her covered cheeks. She couldn't contain the gasp as his finger moved higher and moved tantalizingly over her panties where a wet patch was forming already. His teeth grazed the side of her neck and his fingertips skimmed down the front of her knickers. Helena bit her lip, stopping herself from moaning loudly. His hand moved up, thumb rubbing back and forth over her pelvic bone; while his other hand moved across her abdomen, to keep her close.
Smouldering grey eyes stayed locked on the green ones before his hand slid inside her panties and his rubbers rubbed the dampened flesh softly. Her breathing sped up just as Sherlock slipped a finger inside and she gasped. Both their eyes were still locked as he moved his finger in and out, his thumb grazing her clit and their hips moved in tedium. She couldn't keep quiet and let out another moan, her head falling back to push against her shoulder.
'She was close. Soo close… Just a bit more.'
Just as she was about to crash, he withdrew his finger abruptly, earning a whine as he left her wanting more. Wide-eyed, she watched as he licked the finger clean before dusting his clothes off as if he hadn't left her on edge. He smirked at her before he said coolly, "We don't want to be late."
With that, he was out of the door, leaving her panting and a trembling mess behind. Green eyes turned back to look herself in the mirror – glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, dress in disarray and a hickey on the side of her neck which undoubtedly would be turning dark soon.
'Oh, that bastard!' Helena seethed.
Later that Night
Helena hid the grimace as Walsh O'Connor aka Chad, rubbed his palm up and her backside before slapping it once. She was seconds away from punching the smirk off his face, but calmed herself and reminded herself that this was the 'plan' and the man would be dead soon.
She leaned closer, deliberately giving him a view down her dress and whispered in his ear, "Want to get out of here?"
"My place isn't far." He informed before pulling her along.
Of course, she knew 'his place' was in the same hotel as theirs, much to her relief. Mycroft had provided all the information needed, so she went along in his car. Once they were in his room, two floors below the ones Sherlock and her were staying in. The man opened the door hastily and she made sure to distract him enough, so he would leave it unlocked.
Chad pushed her onto the bed and removed his shirt before practically jumping on top of her. His hands skimmed up and down her body and his lips were moving on top of her breasts when she had enough and fired a silent stunner. His eyes rolled back and he slumped on top of her. She pushed him off with a disgusted groan just as Sherlock burst into the room.
He blinked at her and she threw the darkest glare she could muster before pushing past him and leaving for their room.
'Never again!' She raged.
Sherlock's eyes flittered between her and the man sprawled on top of the bed, winching when the door slammed shut with a loud bang. After taking care of the man and collecting the names of the men he knew in Moriarty's network, he flew back to his room where a jinx hit him straight on the nose, making him yelp.
March 2012
Royal Gallery of Saint Hubert, Belgium
Sherlock gave an award-winning smile to Anna Müller, wife of Karl Müller, a part-time assassin hired by Sebastian Moran himself. He was here to find out whether she knew about her husband's second occupation or not. If yes, they would have to take care of both – which could be tricky seeing as the couple owned and ran the café.
"My wife." He introduced themself before looking at Helena with 'heart eyes'. Then, he pulled her closer, caressed her bum and leaned down to nuzzle her neck.
"Newlyweds?" The woman asked eagerly.
"Just been a week," Sherlock told her enthusiastically and Helena smiled, which probably came out as a grimace.
Anna's eyes flickered down to look at her finger and she asked with a frown, "Oh, I don't see a ring."
"Poor dear was tired and forgot where she kept her ring. It's the first time we've stepped out of our room since we checked in five days ago!" He told the woman offhandedly before adding with a wink, "We lost track of time, you see."
Helena's mouth fell open as she stared at 'her husband' wide-eyed, colour steadily rising in her cheeks. Anna, on the other hand, melted right in front of their eyes and cooed, "Aww… you're so much like my Karl."
Sherlock widened his eyes and asked innocently, "Karl?"
"Oh, my husband." The woman brightened and blabbered, "We married six years ago. Eloped. My father didn't like him."
Sherlock's face fell, looking truly heartbroken as he gasped out, "Really? Why?"
May 2012
USA
They were on a cruise, having dinner when suddenly Sherlock murmured, "Dance with me."
She stared at him wide-eyed, looking like a deer caught in headlights and stammered, "D-dance? Me?"
"Yes." He didn't give her a chance, pulling her up swiftly.
"The last time I tried to dance turned out to be a disaster!" She told him hurriedly as he pulled her to the dance floor.
He didn't stop until they were facing each other on the dance floor and asked, "Fourth-year?"
"Yes." She nodded.
His hand went to the middle of her back and he stated cockily, "You didn't have the world's best dancer for a partner then."
Helena couldn't help herself as she smiled and asked curiously, "World's best dancer?"
"Obviously." He sniffed, pulling her hard against his body.
When she heard the first note, her eyes widened further and she squeaked out, "Salsa?"
"Yes." He stated before leading her around the dance floor.
"Everyone's watching. What if I fall?" She asked just as he tilted her entire body.
He dipped her before lifting her back to stand. Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, "I won't let you."
She didn't get time to react as he turned her around, his hand moving to her belly and he pulled her hips against his own. The intensity of this magnified as he took her hand in his and pressed them together against her stomach once again before moving them to the side of his hips. Then, he spun her around, so they were facing each other once again and his hand slid up her bare arm, sending goose bumps all over her body. Grey eyes were locked on the green ones as he pinned her firmly against his own body. Aggressively walking her backwards before pulling her forward in a way that their hips stayed firmly pressed together.
"Wrap your right leg around me."
He instructed and she obeyed instinctively, but he leaned back and took hold of her knee with his long fingers, holding it at his hips. Helena clutched the front of his shirt with one hand as he pinned her other hand behind her before dipping her down. Pulling back to stand straight once again, they found that both their eyes were dilated. Dipping her to the side, Sherlock pulled her back and spun her around before drawing her back against his body again. His leg inserted itself between hers and he spun them around a few times as if they'd been doing it for years. Once they stopped, he pressed her back to himself more and in turn, she wrapped her arm around his neck.
Helena heard applause, but she was solely focused on the man in front of him. Moving her fingers to caress his nose and down to his lips, she whispered, "Thank you for not letting me fall."
"We're not done," Sherlock growled out, his hands holding her tightly, insistent and primal to show what he wanted later…
Helena shuddered and leaned into him, nipping his ear lobe between her teeth – making him hiss with pleasure.
'Yes, they weren't done.'
July – August 2012
"If you burn the tent…"
"We won't, mum!" Teddy cried from where he was sitting beside Sherlock, experimenting Merlin knew what!
Sherlock nodded wordlessly and Helena sighed before turning to look at Caesar and deadpanned, "You're the smartest one in the house. Keep an eye on them while I'm gone, would you?"
Caesar lifted his head to look at her before setting down for what seemed like a nap. Helena rolled her eyes but apparated to meet Mrs Hudson. The sooner she'd leave, the sooner she would be back.
Once she was gone, both Sherlock and Teddy jumped from their respective seats and the detective rubbed his hands gleefully.
"Now, Teddy, let's go." He walked over to their dog, rubbed his ears and said, "Caesar, make sure to distract Helena if she returns before us."
September 2012
Santiago, Chile
The old woman eyed the two through her glasses as if they were being ridiculous. One of her eyebrows is raised in silent judgement, but she smiled mockingly and said, "I don't see a ring."
Helena hated her instantly but knew they needed to find a room in the motel, no matter how dingy it seemed. How people stayed in these unsanitary places, she would never understand and these were scattered all over America! According to Mycroft's Intel, a woman named Rachel Miller would be staying here for two days before leaving. She was related to Moran and had all the information about Moriarty's network all over the country.
Sherlock downright glared and opened his mouth to retort something scathing, but Helena cut in and whispered conspiratorially, "He's extremely poor. My family didn't approve, so we eloped."
Sherlock blinked at her, while the receptionist gave her a condescending look before asking again, "And you came here from… England? To Chile? To this motel?"
"As I said, he's poor and my family cut me off. This is the only thing we could afford." Helena told her sadly.
Suddenly, Sherlock's eyes shined mischievously and Helena just knew she was about to regret her spontaneous decision to tease him. Much to her confusion, he procured a paper from his pocket and showed it to the woman with a flourish. She smiled faded as she looked at it, but he had just begun and stated, "My darling wife and I've been travelling all day. It wasn't easy. Extremely dramatic. I'm sure you would be bored by the details. Pardon me if I seem disrespectful, but you see, Mrs and I haven't had the time to consummate our marriage yet… and I'm quite eager."
Comprehension and horror dawned and Helena's eyes widened when she realised that the piece of paper was a marriage licence.
Their marriage certificate to be precise.
She wasn't even going to bother how he had managed to get it without informing her, but she was going to kill both the Holmes brothers.
The rude woman had lost all her righteous attitude and was typing something on the computer, undoubtedly flustered by her nosiness. Though Sherlock wasn't done and he very deliberately moved his hand to rub it up and down her ass before pinching it for good measure. Helena squeaked and even the woman flushed, hurrying to hand them the key.
"We'll be in our room soon, honey." Helena hastily stated, avoiding looking at the lobby where five people were staring right at her and 'her husband'.
Just when she'd thought Sherlock was done with the show, he pulled her face towards him and attacked her lips. One of his hands held the back of her neck, while the other caressed her bum and pressed her closer, rolling his hips against hers. Helena would later be ashamed to say, but she let out a loud moan, forgetting all about their audience and sank right into him.
When he pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk, he gave the old woman a charming smile, while Helena was still resting her forehead against his chest, trying to get her breathing under control.
She didn't dare to face the receptionist again and hurried towards the room, following Sherlock on shaky legs.
Oh, yes, she was going to murder him… but not before finishing what he started.
November 2012
Oregon
"Ginny is getting married to Dean." She informed, slumping down on the couch beside him, resting her head against his shoulder.
Uninterested, he replied, "Wonderful."
Helena, who by now was habitual about his disinterested replies when it came to topics that bored him, ignored his tone and added, "George also proposed to Angelina."
"Congratulations to the happy couple." He mumbled offhandedly.
She huffed, resting even more firmly against him and said, "Ron and Hermione are pregnant again."
"That's physically impossible." He muttered, typing something furiously on his phone.
"Ughh!" She groaned out before stating aggressively, "You know what I mean!"
Now, he looked up from his phone to stare at her. She seemed to be sulking, so he asked with a frown, "What happened?"
She didn't look at him and responded sulkily, "I miss home."
With a sigh, Sherlock kept his phone on the table and pulled her close, hugging her to him. In the time he'd been on the 'run', he had figured out that physical contact helped a great deal. He still couldn't stand when anyone other than Helena touched him, but he had come to love when she showed affection to him in any form… he would even go as far as saying that he craved it. And he'd figured out that she craved it even more. He didn't tell her that he missed home too - John, Mrs Hudson and even the idiots of Scotland Yard. He missed the weather, no matter how horridly wet it got at times. He missed the food and he missed Caesar, who was at the Weasley's home for the time being. But, he was thankful and glad that she had decided to stay with him and he wasn't going to try his luck by asking her to leave. Helena's presence was the only saving grace he had and he was going to make sure she stayed by his side. So, he let her 'sulk' on top of him, closed his eyes and decided to visit his mind palace.
Christmas 2012
Québec City
"We were having such a nice day and you just had to ruin it," Sherlock complained, following her around as she reheated the food.
"Now, let's not be overly dramatic." She muttered, making sure everything was perfect. "It's just a few hours."
"A few hours with Mycroft." He mumbled furiously before turning to Teddy and saying, "Remember, Mycroft is terrible and you shouldn't listen to him at any cost."
"Sherlock…" Helena sighed, ignoring the way her kid hung onto his every word and nodded obediently.
He looked at their dog and continued, "Caesar, make sure you take a bite, once he's here."
Teddy giggled; Helena hung her head just as the alarm in her tent rang aloud, announcing their guest's arrival.
Sherlock perused his lips, jumping onto the only armchair in the room.
Helena looked at him pointedly and said, "Behave."
Sherlock shrugged, having no intention of 'behaving' with Mycroft in any way.
"Mycroft!" Helena greeted enthusiastically, as the older Holmes entered, looking around disdainfully and muttered, "It's… nice. Very… Christmassy."
She rolled her eyes, reminding herself she'd invited him because he was Sherlock's family and because she knew he would be alone on Christmas. Teddy stared at him suspiciously, while Caesar looked ready to bite their guest.
"Come on in." She invited and foolishly decided to make small talk. "So, how have you been?"
"Busy." Was the clipped response.
"Would you like something to drink?" she tried again.
Looking uncomfortable, Mycroft took a seat in front of the fireplace and nodded, "Yes, please."
"Bourbon, whiskey or mulled wine?" She asked again.
"Mulled wine. Thanks." He replied, looking at his surroundings with something akin to wonder.
"Mum! Can we open the presents now?" Teddy whined impatiently.
"Sure." She told him with a smile.
Teddy beamed at the number of gifts he'd gotten, eagerly tearing the wrapping papers apart. Sherlock did the same and went silent when he looked at his gift. She'd seen him looking sadly at the man playing the violin on a street a few months back, so she'd bought a violin for him. It wasn't as good as the one he had, but she supposed it would do the job when he would need it the most. Mycroft looked confused at the watch, so she explained that it had a tracker and protection charm and would protect him from all kinds of danger. After that, he seemed oddly touched.
She opened her gift from Mycroft and asked, "You bought me a laptop?"
"Yes. The number of times Sherlock whines about you 'frying' his… cannot be healthy." He stated nonchalantly.
Sherlock first glared at his brother, then at her.
The dining room, if it could be called that - was tiny and they all sat clustered around a large table with candles burning in a candelabra in the middle of them. The food Mrs Weasley had packed for her this morning floated from the kitchen and settled itself on the table. Teddy dug in enthusiastically. Mycroft seemed wary at first but nodded his appreciation once he tasted the goose. Sherlock pushed the food around on his plate disinterestedly.
All in all, no one was murdered at the end of the day, so Helena called it a win and congratulated herself.
January 6th, 2013
New York
The colour was high on his cheeks, eyes bright with excitement as he blabbered continuously, words spilling out as he talked and talked – carrying the high after catching and ending all of Moriarty's network in America. They hadn't eaten properly since Teddy left on the 2nd, nearly 4 days now and Helena was starving and despite whatever the detective in front of him said, she knew he was too.
She'd booked a restaurant with a private booth with a view of the street. They could see people passing through from the huge one-way mirror – it cost her a fortune, but it was Sherlock's birthday, so she'd decided to splurge. It was her first time in America and she wanted to try the famous cheeseburgers and pizza. The waitress had taken their order and left after closing the gate to their private booth.
One thing she'd learned about him was that after solving a case, Sherlock loved having sex. He got extremely vocal and enthusiastic and she wasn't going to let such a chance go in vain. She leaned forward and kissed Sherlock, swallowing his sentence into her mouth.
"Mmmphh…" He finished eloquently, his hands pulling her closer instinctively to deepen the kiss.
Helena didn't wait anymore as she straddled his lap and rubbed herself up and down, creating friction where she could feel his rapidly hardening cock against her.
"This – this is a – bad idea," Sherlock mumbled, pulling his mouth away, even though his hands moved down to hold her hips and he rocked against her.
"Not from where I'm sitting." She whispered, leaning her head down to suck a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.
The effect was instant as he gasped aloud, but said, "Terrible – terrible idea."
"We'll see…" She muttered under her breath before clambering off his lap and settling on the floor under the table which thankfully was covered with a cloth hiding her from view.
Sherlock's eyes widened comically when her fingers undid the button of his jeans and fly swiftly and she asked, "Do you think your brother's watching?"
They both knew the answer – Mycroft always kept his eyes on Sherlock. Always.
She didn't wait for his response, instead spat in her hand before rubbing it up and down his already hard cock.
"You've lost your mind." Sherlock panted down at her, eyes wide.
"Really? Because some parts of your body seem to love the terrible decision-making." She remarked, placing small kisses all around his cock.
He bucked against her, his hands finding purchase in her hair as he urged, "You have to hurry up! She'll be back."
Helena took his balls in her mouth and sucked, earning a whine as he tried to keep his voice down. Then, she pulled back and asked, "I thought I'd lost my mind?"
He looked into her eyes and stated urgently, "I've learned not to stop when you get an idea in your head. You can be quite stubborn."
She smiled before licking a drop of pre-come from his slit, solely to torture him. Sherlock squirmed, making an impatient sound as his fingers tightened and he tried to push more of his cock into her mouth. Deciding not to tease him further, Helena latched onto his cock – licking, sucking and doing everything in her power to make this an unforgettable experience. Shocked at the sudden attack, Sherlock gasped and his head fell back, colliding with the wall behind with a thud. Helena's eyes snapped to him, alarmed, but his eyes were closed and his mouth was open as he lost himself to pleasure.
Helena adored it when Sherlock got impatient in bed. Everyone knew Sherlock Holmes was impatient about life, but only she knew that he was even more so while having sex. It thrilled her to no end that she was the only person to know him so intimately… the only person Sherlock lowered his inhibitions for, so she could turn him into a moaning mess.
Helena bobbed her head up and down in steady motion, her lips which were now chapped, slid over the shaft, tongue swirling around the head when the door opened and she felt Sherlock freeze.
The waitress kept the food on the table before looking at Sherlock and asked, "Sir, your companion…?"
"Bathroom." He replied before she could finish, hoping she would leave.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" The waitress asked again, while Helena focused on rubbing Sherlock's balls, taking perverse pleasure in the way he forgot to respond.
The waitress looked worried as she stared at the man sitting in front of him and queried, "Sir, are you alright?"
"Yes! Why wouldn't I be?" Sherlock hissed through clenched teeth.
"You look red… and you're sweating." The blonde woman stated uncertainly. "Are you sure you'd be alright? Should I call a doctor?"
He downright glared at her and stated, "Not needed. Why don't you run back to the kitchen? Your boyfriend is here to surprise you with the ring he has been hiding in his pocket for months now."
The waitress looked stunned as she asked, "How do you…?"
"Not important." He snapped.
"Yes." The blonde woman nodded, looking awed before she left, closing the door behind her.
Helena narrowed her eyes because if he could still deduce, she certainly wasn't doing a good job. An idea occurred to her and she smirked before pulling away altogether. Rubbing her thumb over the white pearly liquid which was oozing from his cock, she looked at him and asked in a whisper, "How much do you want me right now?"
Sherlock made a desperate noise and tried to arch up into her hand or her mouth, but Helena licked his shaft before cruelly pulling back and asked again, "Tell me."
"Helena…" Sherlock moaned, his voice trembled with uncertainty and desire.
Sherlock was extremely manipulative when he wanted something, but at the moment, Helena was aware that he was desperate by the way he clung to her like a lifeline. His fingers clenched tight in her hair and his eyes looked down at her feverishly.
"Tell me what you want." She questioned.
Breathing hard, he stated clearly, "I want you to suck me."
Helena kept her eyes on him and instructed, "And I want you to keep your eyes out the window while I suck your cock."
Sherlock made a noise, indecipherable, but nodded.
With that, she took him in her mouth and he arched to meet her. She put a hand on his thighs to keep him from choking her and looked at her through her lashes. Sherlock's pink mouth was parted and his eyes were fixed on her.
She sucked once before pulling back and whispered, "Eyes out the window, Sherlock."
Sherlock obeyed immediately and Helena rewarded him by taking all his length down her throat. He screamed, enough that she was worried someone might burst into their private booth anytime now, but not enough for her to stop. She glanced up and found that his eyes were closed.
She pulled back again before commanding, "Tell me about the people who're passing by."
Sherlock managed to open his eyes and blinked down at her blearily and asked belatedly, "What?"
"Deductions… about the people passing by," Helena said pointedly.
His fingers tightened in her hair as he tried to push the tip of his cock back in her mouth, but Helena just licked the oozing precum and sat back. Sherlock blinked down at her a few times, slowly and heavily and she knew that his thought processes had slowed down to a crawl… if it hadn't shut down momentarily. Helena wasn't sure. It was his birthday and she was going to make sure he wouldn't forget it all his life.
"You've gone mad." Sherlock finally said, feeling overwhelmed.
Helena didn't stop her fingers as they moved over his shaft softly – enough to keep him on edge, but not enough to make him come. She sat back and arched an eyebrow.
Sherlock's head snapped towards the window and he said clearly, "Mid 30's. About to get married to a younger man, possibly 10 years younger. A teacher. They met in college. She's jealous of his female friends. Is trying too hard to look better than them because she… she… she spent half her savings on… on – a!"
Helena hummed encouragingly around his cock, rubbing his balls with her hands – something which made Sherlock stop and he threw his head back with a loud moan. She pulled off again and prompted, "Spent half her savings on what?"
"On – on…" Sherlock shook his head from side to side as she kept the perfect amount of pressure with her hands. Then, he shouted, "Christ! Please! Please!"
"Tell me more," Helena demanded before latching back onto his cock.
"I don't know! I don't know anymore!" Sherlock babbled desperately. "I don't care!"
"Come on… I know you can." Helena coaxed.
"I CAN'T! I can't, I can't! Helena please, please…" Sherlock flailed, hands clutching at her hair and finally, she gave him what he needed and he came down her throat with a shout before falling back bonelessly.
Helena cleaned him with a quick spell before buttoning the button of his jeans. Her knees were sore and in pain, but it was worth it after seeing Sherlock sprawled sluggishly on the chair. When she kissed him, he returned it in a haze.
It was safe to say that he wasn't going to forget his birthday for many years to come because the manager along with a few other waiters burst in after hearing his scream.
March 2013
Cairo
Her vision blurred as she tried to focus on the blonde man or the words he was saying, but couldn't. They'd taken care of Moriarty's men here and she had adamantly decided to enjoy at least a day before they were off to another country, on another mission.
The music was too loud, the place too crowded and all she felt was a splitting headache. She just had one drink, so why was everything whirling? Helena felt someone grab her shoulders before she was being pulled… somewhere. She pulled her hand back or at least tried when the man standing in front of her leaned closer and whispered something in her ear. Helena didn't know what, but all she wanted was Sherlock… She told the man so.
The brown-haired man nodded and said, "Yes, we'll take you to him. Come."
He and his friend pulled her along, unbothered that she was stumbling. Despite her protest, one of them held her waist and took her in an elevator – touching her all the while. Helena, meanwhile felt like puking, even as she held onto them for support. The men stepped out of the elevator, dragging her along, but stopped short when their eyes fell on something.
Helena lifted her head and brightened as soon as her eyes fell on the man she wanted.
"My honeybun!" She shouted happily.
"Yes." He muttered with a long-suffering sigh.
She attempted to go to Sherlock, but the men held her tight, enough to make her wince and she mumbled, "Ow…"
Helena couldn't remember what happened next, just that words were exchanged between the two men and Sherlock before she was unceremoniously thrown forward. It was a good thing he caught her or she would've fallen. She peeked at the two men, who were now being dragged by men in black.
'Good.' She thought sagely before focusing her attention back on her detective, who had now picked her up and carried her… somewhere. Helena rested her head on his shoulder and breathed in his calming scent.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Back to the room." He told her quietly.
"Nice! We can have sex!" She stated loudly before giggling to herself.
Sherlock grimaced but chose not to say anything seeing as she was high as a kite. Also, because he was seething. She'd been roofied by two rapists who had killed three women before. It was a good thing he had been there along with Mycroft's men or else…
Shaking his head, he entered their room and swiftly deposited his cargo on the bed. Helena was incoherent, mumbling something or the other before giggling to herself. He removed her shoes and dress, knowing she would be uncomfortable in the tight dress. But as he pulled up to cover her with the duvet, she grabbed his shirt with a startling force that made him nearly fall on top of her. He steadied himself with a hand on the bed and looked into her eyes – nearly black with no green visible and sudden anger hit him once again.
But Helena was in her own world because she pulled him closer until their noses were touching and mumbled, "We're not having sex?"
She blinked at him a couple of times, looking adorably confused and he couldn't help himself from rubbing his nose with hers. She giggled again drunkenly and he pulled back before muttering softly, "Maybe tomorrow. Now, why don't you take a nap?"
"Yes." She nodded seriously before mumbling, "That sounds like a good idea."
It didn't even take seconds before she was out like a light and Sherlock pushed her hair out of her face before moving to stand up.
"No. Stay." She whispered, hand moving in a vain attempt to grab him.
Sherlock sighed and couldn't do anything but do as she commanded. Removing his jeans and shirt, he got in bed beside her and she curled on top of him instinctively.
May 2013
Paris
'She should've known better.' Helena thought as she grimaced at the man. He was drunkenly trying to get her pants off, all the while grinning at her. They were in a back alley behind a pub, so using magic when the cameras were scattered all over the place wouldn't go well. The blonde leaned forward and bit her neck and she yelped at the sudden pain.
"Yeah, baby… Just liked that." François mumbled against her neck.
But before he could do anything, he fell on top of her and Helena sighed with relief. He was pulled suddenly and there was Sherlock along with two men – Mycroft's, who carried the soon-to-be body and dumped him into a black car.
Once they were gone, Sherlock asked unnecessarily, "Alright?"
Rubbing her neck, Helena scowled at him, only to find him staring darkly where her fingers were covering the bite mark. She huffed a breath before muttering, "Fine. Let's go back."
He caught her wrist and pulled her back. She was tired and felt filthy and wanted nothing more than to take a relaxing bath, so she opened her mouth to ask, "Sherlock. What…?"
But was cut off as his lips collided with hers. She gasped at the suddenness, which he took as an invitation to invade her mouth. Before she knew what was happening, Sherlock crouched down and picked her up, so she could do nothing but wrap her legs around his waist as securely as she could manage. He pushed her against the wall before his hands made quick work of both their buttons. He pulled his cock out enough before pushing her panties aside… and sank into her just like that.
Helena knocked her head on the brick wall, hoping the momentary pain would bring her back to her senses. Sherlock didn't waste the opportunity and licked the 'bite mark' François had left behind. She whimpered as she sank onto his thick cock and felt his balls pressing against her bum – hot, tight and perfect. It wasn't comfortable, but she didn't care. She sucked in lungfuls of air and her fingers clutched onto Sherlock tightly as he hammered inside her.
She could feel her orgasm building when the door ten feet to her left slammed open, loud music spilling out into the alley as two people burst outside for a quick smoke. Sherlock didn't stop and his cock kept thrusting in and out of her.
"Mmmm…. No. Sher – no… we have to stop." She gasped with some difficulty.
"Idiots, all of them," he told her simply and just to prove his point further, moved his hand where he was pushing inside her.
"There are people – Sherlock!" His name came out with a loud cry when he gave a particularly hard thrust, hitting just the right spot.
"My coat!" He hissed.
And yes, how could she forget the stupid trench coat he'd bought a few days ago. Ignoring her musings which he could practically hear, he kept his pace, rubbing her clit… and just as he'd known her orgasm crawled closer and she chanted in his ear, "Don't stop. Don't – yes, Sherlock. Don't. Don't."
He had no intention of stopping. Not until he made sure that the world knew she belonged to him as much as he did to her. Mycroft's plan was stupid and he hadn't considered how hard it would be to watch men pawing all over her. He could see it in her eyes every time – she absolutely hated it. He would find another way and Mycroft could go fuck himself.
Then her fingers were in his hair, pulling him down into a messy kiss to muffle her cries against his mouth. His wrist was bent uncomfortably, but his thumb kept circling and circling until she clamped down on his cock and her orgasm crashed onto her. He kept thrusting into her, the motion of his hips becoming frantic before finally, he pushed all the way in and spilled inside her. When he hid his face into her neck, she stroked her fingers through his sweaty curls as she felt his hot semen filling her. Helena was nothing more than a trembling mass of sweat, but when his tongue slid messily against hers, she responded rather happily.
By the time Sherlock hailed a cab, she'd forgotten all about the two men watching the show with matching smirks on their faces.
EN: So, this is the first half. I'll be posting the other half, sometime this week. Do let me know what you think and if you've any ideas about what Sherlock and Helena could do before finally heading back to London?
Positive Criticism is always appreciated unless it is rude. Have a nice day everyone.
