- That's a tad excessive, don't you think?

Sherlock briskly followed Aida from the dock to the center of San Marco, swarmed with people; she quickened the pace, trying to fade into the crowd and under the dim lights of the lampposts, while he followed behind, weaving through the people. They soon found themselves in a darkened and silent alley, so Sherlock seized the opportunity.

- I don't see what the problem is. Don't get me wrong, I really don't care if you're mad at me, I'm just…curious.

Aida stopped and clenched her fists, still not looking at him.

- I mean, I get it, you like me, I tricked you into kissing me, and then I-

She turned and pounced on him like a wild beast on his prey: a knee between Sherlock's thighs, her left forearm pressed against his throat and the right hand tightened around his left wrist. Sherlock could easily reverse the situation, but his curiosity overcame instinct once again.

- You don't get it. – she whispered in his ear.
- The humiliation? Oh no, I get that.

Aida shifted her arm slightly, pushing his chin up and biting his neck but – despite Sherlock's hiss - nothing in her moves was even remotely sexual.

- The fact that an eighteen year old boy just humiliated you at you most vulnerable must be upsetting for you.

She breathed out a nervous laugh and lifted her knee a bit more.

- Apparently not the first time, am I right? You're quite a case study, I give you that. Electra complex, body acceptance, I'd say slightly bipolar judging by your overreaction. Are you on antidepressants?

His eyes narrowed, her jaw tightened before smiling sardonically; she loosened the grip on him and backed off.

- Let me guess. You stand on the thin line between crime solving and crime committing.

Sherlock straightened himself against the wall and took a step towards her, smiling back.

- You grew up with serial killers stories. A little kid, especially a girl, would be frightened or disturbed, not fascinated as you were. You faked interest at first, probably because you wanted your father's attention and you figured it out it was the only way to get it but then you started to enjoy it and that scared you but didn't stop you. When you grew up you thought, well, if you can't beat them join them so you decided it'd be a good idea to become like your father, maybe this inexplicable fascination could lead you to something good. But when something like this happens this hidden side of you suddenly gains the upper hand and the shy and fearful little girl vanishes to make room for this overconfident femme fatale. But then again, what do I know? One can only hope.

The two of them were inches apart, standing right under a flickering shop sign; Sherlock's hand was wrapped around her neck while she glared at him, licking her lips.

- And you like this. Your pupils are dilated. You're enjoying yourself too. You realized there's more so everything changed.
- Attraction isn't strictly physical.
- But you still feel attracted to a potential criminal.
- No.

He pushed her gently against the wall, pinning her wrist behind her back.

- I'm attracted by the puzzle.
- I'm flattered.
- Don't be.
- Either you kiss me or you let me go.
- There's no point in kissing.
- I'm not giving you the satisfaction of solving the mystery.

When Sherlock let her go she smirked at him and hooked her finger around his belt, pulling him closer so he had to hold himself with his hands on the wall behind her.

- So why aren't you curious about sex?
- What makes you think I'm a virgin?

Aida raised her eyebrows at him and chuckled.

- You paid a prostitute.
- Technically I didn't. My grandfather did, when I was sixteen. Sex is granted but the kissing is off-limits.
- Poor thing.

For a second, Sherlock thought about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide: her voice was sarcastic but her eyes were full of sadness and compassion, the two sides of her fighting against each other.

- Don't pity me, it was a high-class prostitute and my grandfather was dead against it. He only paid for it because he feared my stubbornness.
- How was it?
- Biologically fine, mentally excruciating. Are we done?
- Sore point?
- Worthless.

He teased her by running his thumb along her lower lip.

- But you kissed me and you're useless to me now. You're right. We are done. Should I wait for your revenge?
- Are you hoping for one?
- You tell me.

She smiled and pursed her lips.

- There's no fun in telling you now. Let's just say you may have forced me to cross that thin line a bit. One can only hope, right?

Aida wrapped her hand around his wrist once again, this time slowly and gently, before turning his palm up and tracing the blue vein beneath with her nails. She smiled at him and walked away.

Whoa. Since I'm writing one chapter at a time without a plan whatsoever, nothing is carved in stone yet and I still don't know about the slash thing. I feel like I should but I don't know if I could.