A/N: Sorry for the hiatus everyone; hopefully I can make up for it with this chapter, which I was really pleased with. As always I appreciate feedback; good or bad regardless. For interest: the case Sherlock speaks of was based on an entry in the book "Brain Fuel: 199 Mind-Expanding Inquiries into the Science of Everyday Life" by Joe Schwarcz.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from the Sherlock universe.

Chapter 12: Raised Eyebrows

For Cecilia the next few weeks were a blurred cycle of missing Sherlock for days as he worked cases and the stolen hours of rapture in between. During the time he was absent she pretended she wasn't worried about him, fulfilling her duties as landlord and John and Sherlock's housekeeper. She visited with Sarah who, thankfully, hadn't tried to set her up again. She cooked and cleaned and took rent. She spoke with her aunt everyday on the phone. No one knew of her scandalous secret. As always, however, secrets have a way of making themselves known.

One night Cecilia was indifferently tidying John and Sherlock's apartment; she hadn't seen them for three days and she didn't really need to dust she just wanted to be connected. She made John's bed and gathered up the few items of clothing; she would run a load tomorrow. She thought it was just wishful thinking when she heard the door open. She poked her head out of John's room and squinted into the dark apartment. She saw a tall, dark figure stride into the darkened living room and her heart began to race.

"Hi, I'm just grabbing the laundry." She called out lightly.

"Oh! You're here." His voice was a little flatter than it should have been; it sounded like he didn't want to see her. Her heart fell a little.

"It everything okay?" Cecilia moved to turn on the lights.

"Don't!" Sherlock had caught her movement.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" Cecilia was struck with a sudden fear. She flicked on the light-switch.

Sherlock sighed and hung his head as the lights came on. Cecilia thought something looked a bit 'off' as she walked down the hall towards him. She slowly saw that there was soot on his face, and his eyebrows had been singed.

"What happened?" she tried to keep the laugh out of her voice, but failed.

" I solved the case, but I…got too close in showing Lestrade what happened."

"Go sit down." She rolled her eyes and closed the apartment door behind him. She quickly returned from the kitchen with a damp cloth. "Is John with you?"

"No. Sarah's." His pinched the bridge of his nose and rested his long fingers across his eyes.

Cecilia crossed the room towards him and worked her way onto his lap; straddling him, her knees held tight to him by the sides of the comfy chair; her loose peasant skirt flaring out and covering his legs. She gently wiped the soot marks from his cheeks and forehead.

"So tell me how you managed to do this to your eyebrows."

Sherlock breathed in deeply, letting out the breath in a low vibrating growl. He slipped his hands underneath her skirt and pulled her hips closer towards him. "The case was of three tennis players who reportedly spontaneously combusted."

" I thought that was just an urban legend." She couldn't help her voice getting breathy. She leaned a little more on him to continue to wipe his face, gently removing the bits of singed hair from his eyebrows and hairline.

"It is. There's always an underlying reason. This one was very tricky, though." He pulled at her hips again. "All three were non-smokers, all were in top physical condition. All three actually burst into flames while on the court."

"What was it?"

"You don't want to guess?"

She put the damp cloth down on the table beside the chair and began very slowly undoing the buttons of Sherlock's shirt. "I don't have the slightest idea." Nor did she have the motivation to figure out at that particular moment.

Sherlock grinned up at her, though his disheveled eyebrows somewhat marred his smug look. "The break in the case was when I found out they all had used the services of the same lawn care company."

Cecilia gave him a questioning look and proceeded to the second button.

Sherlock began to breath a little faster. "They were using sodium chloride as a weed killer, which is also a powerful oxidizing agent. Heat causes it to decompose and if it breaks down in the presence of something flammable it can burst into flames."

She moved to the third button and bent her head to kiss him gently below his ear. Sherlock didn't continue with his explanation, suddenly all thought of the case was pushed from his mind. Cecilia sat up; pleased with the expression she had put on Sherlock's face. "And what does that have to do with tennis players? Or your eyebrows for that matter?" She started in on the fourth button.

Sherlock sighed, his voice now husky. "It was their tennis shoes on the clay court. The friction of the rubber on the hard surface generates enough heat to set off the reaction and coincidentally provides a fuel for the fire."

Fifth button.

"Lestrade wouldn't believe my theory unless I demonstrated it for him, and the reaction was a little more…robust…than I expected it to be."

Cecilia paused in her steadfast undressing of Sherlock and laughed in disbelief.

He rolled his eyes. "The only upside is that I did the demonstration on Anderson's desk, with Anderson's shoe." A mischievous smile turned the corners of his mouth.

Cecilia couldn't resist him with that look on his face; she swung her leg off of him and pulled him up from the chair. He engulfed her in a passionate kiss, pulling up the cotton tank top she was wearing. As they kissed Sherlock was stealthily moving her towards his bedroom door, items of clothing being shed as they went.

This time Sherlock was mindful to not let himself be overcome by animalistic ferocity. He took his time. He was as patient and methodical as when he worked cases. Finally, in the early hours of the morning they both collapsed onto the cool pillows completely spent.

Sherlock woke to the sound of the front door opening and the voices of John and Sarah. He looked at Cecilia sleeping next to him and he swore silently. He hurriedly got out of bed, slipped on his pajama bottoms and stole through the door with as much nonchalance as possible. He spotted the discarded clothes on the floor in a clear trail towards his bedroom and hoped John wouldn't notice.

"Sherlock? You're sleeping in your room now?" Asked John as he and Sarah bustled into the living room.

Sherlock nodded and cleared his throat.

"Have you seen Cecilia?" Sarah asked. "We were supposed to have breakfast this morning and we just tried her flat and she's not there."

"No. I don't know where she could be." He put on his best innocent expression. But he could see that their eyes fell on the clothes littering the floor.

"I'm just going to ring her cell." John had pulled out his phone and dialed. He gave Sherlock a suspicious look.

Sherlock shut his eyes as the inevitable happened.

-dingle-dingle-dingle-

Cecilia had left her phone on the kitchen counter. All three of them looked at it as it rang and vibrated against the hard surface. None of them spoke; the sound of Cecilia's phone ballooned seemed to fill the room. John hung up his phone and put it back in his jacket slowly. He stared at Sherlock expectantly but the detective avoided John's gaze. Cecilia stepped meekly out of Sherlock's room finally breaking the long, awkward, silence. She had put on his pajama shirt, as hers had been thrown down beside the fireplace. She didn't look at any of the three people in the room; her feet had suddenly become the most interesting things she had ever seen.

"I…uh….forgot about breakfast…sorry." She quickly picked up her clothes, grabbed her phone from the counter and made for the apartment door. "I'll just go…change….sorry." She slammed the door behind her.

John and Sarah turned to each other, mouths agape, matching bewildered looks on their faces. John turned back to Sherlock who stared daggers back at him, daring him to say something.

"I fucking KNEW it!" he laughed. "Come on, Sarah, let's leave this den of filth." John said in mock-disgusted tones.

John and Sarah were laughing as they walked out under the awning of 221 Baker Street.

"Sherlock and Cecilia. Can you believe it?" Sarah shook her head.

"I know. But to be honest I think it's been going on for a while."

They laughed again but they failed to notice the all too familiar light-haired man leaning against the wall near them with his face hidden behind a newspaper. They failed to notice that he followed them with his eyes as soon as they had left the building. And they failed to notice the malevolent smile that spread across his face at the mention of Cecilia and Sherlock's names.