Knock, knock. Sherlock's head snapped up from his phone. 5:00 pm. He smirked at her punctuality and stood up. John looked at him. "Expecting someone?" He asked. Sherlock didn't even glance at him. "She's here." His deep voice said. John raised an eyebrow and tried to rack his brain for who this woman was. "This is the woman you were texting? The one who said she was your sex toy?" He cleared his throat. Sherlock smirked again.
"Yes, she likes putting me in awkward situations. You'd better be prepared for that as well." Footsteps began approaching the room. John stood up, now not needing his crutch. "Be prepared, John. She's dangerous, flirtatious and can get what she wants with one word. And I'm not exaggerating. That's what makes her so dangerous." The door to the flat opened and Mrs Hudson bustled in. John visibly deflated. Sherlock chuckled and resumed watching the window. "You had someone knock for you at the door, Sherlock. They've taken a… unusual route up." She said, set down her tray and left.
"She can really get whatever she wants with one word?" John asked, a little unsure to believe him.
"It's not the word, Mr Watson. It's how I use it." A female voice came from a window.

Sherlock cursed under his breath. "Damn. Wrong window. Always something." He muttered. He walked past a shocked John and threw open the door, pulling a woman inside. Silver eyes met blue for a split second and then silence. "You're late." Sherlock murmured. She frowned.
"Am not. I knocked on the door at precisely 5." Her voice was monotonous and unemotional.
"You didn't see me until 3 minutes past. Therefore, you are late." Sherlock's voice the same. A few seconds passed.
"I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" The woman threw her arms around Sherlock and held him tight, wrapping her legs around his hips. He embraced just as tightly and nestled his head in her hair on her shoulder. "Still using the same perfume?" He mumbled. She smirked into his neck and nodded, revelling in his arms around her once more.
"Yup." She whispered, shaking tears away from her eyes.
"Now, I recall you saying about hugs and kisses?" She chuckled and pulled back kissing his face everywhere but his lips. "That can be saved for later, Mr Holmes." She murmured when he pouted. He raised an eyebrow and she turned away, forcing the quick blush away. They had flirted for years and never thought anything of it. Now, she was all blushes and reminiscing. She quickly looked at Sherlock to see what he had been up to.

Hair is shiny but a little darker than usual; hair washed earlier the same day. Hair also smelling of fruits; thoroughly washed it. Light bags under the eyes; still an insomniac but has yet to figure out how he has a lack of bags. Lips are full and not chapped; hasn't kissed anyone recently in the past few days. Knowing Sherlock, he hasn't had a girlfriend at all. Shirt slightly un-tucked at the side; in a small rush this morning, most likely to get to the crime scene in question when texting. Small crust of frost on his collar; been in the morgue recently. Overall conclusion: Eager to get to the crime scene and decided to make an impression for me. Still hasn't got a girlfriend. Relief is thriving in my own body. Not good.

She pushed it to the back of her mind and stepped towards John, who was still watching with his mouth wide open. She stuck her hand out. "Hello, Dr John Watson. It's lovely to meet you now. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," She glanced at Sherlock who winked at her from his seat on the sofa, "It's not the word I use. You can get what you need with nearly any word. You just have to know how to use it." He frowned at the woman before him.
"Still not quite following you…" He mumbled. Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Want a demonstration?" John looked aghast at the idea. She smirked. "Not on you, obviously. Sherlock loves to be my guinea pig."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"No, I don't. You've forgotten to mention the last time I was your guinea pig."
"You enjoyed that."
"Perhaps so, but I don't like being your guinea pig."
"Yes, you do."
"No, I don't."
"Don't listen to him, he does. Anyway, want to see?" John seemed a little torn but his curiosity was getting the best of him.
"Fine, go ahead. Just don't… hurt anyone." He sat down and watched Lydia. Lydia mock saluted him and then looked at Sherlock. Sherlock was lying on the sofa, his muscles tensed. She chuckled at his terror. She sat down at an arm chair that looked to have been moved to a new position recently, thanks to the chair marks in the carpet beneath. Lydia sat down in it and threw her legs over the side of the arm, lifting one hand up to carefully bite on her index finger. "It's not just the voice, of course. It's the body language." She said to John. He nodded as he focussed on the woman before him. Her long auburn hair fell to her elbows in soft curls. Her silver eyes were relaxed but still guarded. She was wearing a three-quarter length ivory shirt (sleeves rolled up) with black work trousers. She also seemed to be wearing boots with a small heel. He could see in the natural light streaming in from the windows that her arms and neck had scars on them. She had had many fights, that was obvious, and when she had grinned at Sherlock, he noticed that her left canine was missing. That would never come back. He wondered how painful it must have been to have an adult tooth knocked out. "Watch and learn, John." She whispered to him. He was convinced that wasn't what she had meant by how she said it but it certainly made an effect on him. She leaned forwards towards Sherlock and Sherlock's eyes flicked to hers. That was his mistake. All hope was lost now.

Lydia smirked as she stretched, keeping her eyes on his and accentuating her womanly aspects, and Sherlock's expression took on a faint tortured one. It's so fun to torment him. She breathed out a sigh and in that sigh, she murmured his name. Sherlock tensed completely and sincerely tried to tear himself away from her eyes. Good luck with that. She winked at him and he lay there, trapped.
"Shit, how did you do that?" She vaguely heard John say behind her. She hadn't done this to Sherlock in years and it felt good to torture him again. Sherlock wanted to glare, oh he did very much, but now Lydia's eyes were just beginning to smoulder and he knew there was no escape. "Oh, if only I had known you could shut him up earlier. I would have called you straight away." John mumbled. She smirked and Lydia was certain she heard a very small groan from Sherlock. Not quite a whimper. She then licked her lips slowly. Sherlock mimicked her. That's never happened before… How did he manage to do that? Is he trying to mirror the effect? He's doing a good job… Gulping internally, Lydia knew she'd have to let him out soon. Sherlock (and herself) wouldn't be able to control himself and if he did whimper then John wouldn't have as much respect for him as he does now. "And this is how you get information out of people?" John asked, curiosity getting the better of him again. She nodded. "Want to see?" She asked, not taking her eyes off of the poor detective.
"Sure." He replied, eager to see Sherlock give in to a woman involuntarily. Lydia got up from her seat and walked over, leaning in close to his ear but not taking her eyes off of him. "Sherlock… where do you keep your nicotine patches?" John cocked an eyebrow. She was going to ask such a question straight away? Sherlock wouldn't even tell Mr Hudson where they were. Sherlock gulped and opened his mouth to try and respond but he couldn't, of course. She leaned in and put her ear right by his lips. "You can tell me. I won't tell a soul." She murmured. He leaned forwards the tiniest bit.
"Under the sink inside the empty bleach bottle." And then he licked her ear. Lydia shivered. He did it again. Come on… one more time… No? "You're telling the truth, Sherlock?" She asked seductively, leaning in closer so that her jaw line was above his lips. He nodded and ran his tongue down it. I love this man… Oh, he stopped. Now I hate him again. "You're most kind, Mr Holmes." She placed a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, her tongue just poking through and then withdrew, smirking at him. "Don't you go anywhere, Mr Holmes. You better be there when I get back."
"As if I'll be going anywhere now." He said. She was shocked that he could even speak but she didn't show it. Instead, she winked at him and walked into the kitchen. A few seconds later, she returned with some nicotine patches. John watched in bewilderment and admiration as she waved them around. "You've been a wonderful help, Sherlock." She murmured and then put the nicotine patches back where they belonged. Walking back in, she noticed Sherlock was definitely holding himself down on the sofa and John was trying to hold in his laughter. "I just seduced your roommate and could easily do the same to you, John. No laughs, thank you." He stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. Lydia gazed at Sherlock who was indeed heavily seduced. She noticed the bulge in his trousers but tried not to think about it. She began blushing and she shook it away from her mind. She batted her eyelashes just once more and he groaned a fraction louder than earlier. John still didn't hear. "Okay, Sherlock… It's alright now." She looked away for a split moment and then back to his eyes, leaving the smouldering effect behind and replacing it with happiness.

"I hate you." Were the first words out of his mouth. She smirked again and nodded.
"I know, Mr Holmes. It's a love-hate relationship, isn't it?"
"You have no idea." She heard him mutter under his breath. She chuckled and then looked at John.
"And that, Mr Watson, is how you seduce a man with the highest amount of pride. Oh, and that's what I do, in answer to your question." Adding the last part as if in sudden remembrance to how the whole ordeal had begun. John spluttered for a moment and then just shook his head and went to his room. "Enjoy that, Mr Holmes?" She asked cheekily.
"Immensely." That wasn't the answer she was expecting. A deep chuckle sounded from the sofa and she glared at the chuckler.
"Screw you."
"Maybe you should." Insert blush.
"What if I did?"
"We'd both enjoy it."
"I'm sure we would. I'm absolutely certain we would."
"As am I."

"…"
"You're extremely alluring, Mr Holmes."
"I've been told. As are you."
"I should hope so otherwise my seduction isn't working anymore."
"Well, to put your mind at ease, your powers of seduction are still incredibly high, I can assure you."
"That's a relief."

"…"
"You seem tired."
"I am."
"Follow me." Lydia got out of her chair and Sherlock led her upstairs, "We don't have a guest room."
"I gathered. I'll sleep on the couch then."
"No, I don't think so. I'm still insomniac and-."
"I know."
"Very good. Can I continue?"
"… Yes."
"Thank you. I'm still insomniac and I'd like you to sleep in my room until you're-."
"I don't think so."
"Is this going to become a regular thing?"
"Yep. Anyway, I'm not kicking you out of your room. Your room was made for you to sleep in. Not anyone else. Now, either way, you're sleeping in here. But are you going to be sleeping alone or with me?"
"Well, that's a beg for sex if ever there was one."
"Get your mind out of the gutter."
"No thanks, this is much too fun."
"I see. What would you do if I pounced on you and begged you to take me, right then and there?"
"… I would."

"…"
"And that's for another night. Now, are you going to sleep here, next to me, sleeping or are you going to be sleeping here on your own? Again, sleeping."
"… I suppose so."
"That didn't answer my question."
"I would much prefer it if you were here with me. I haven't had a proper night sleep since the night you left for Japan."
"… Well, I'm here now. Remember, Sherlock. We're sleeping. No funny business."
"Can't guarantee that."
"Sherlock!" She slapped his arm.
"Ow. Fine." Lydia crawled onto the bed and pushed the microscope to the other side of the table.
"Join me, Mr Holmes."
"Beckoning me like that isn't going to make me want to sleep."
"Too bad. Now, join me." Sherlock more flopped onto the bed lengthways instead of the way one's supposed to lay on a bed, "You're an idiot."
"Am not." He looked at her, looking offended.
"Shut up, you know what I mean." He grumbled under his breath and she smiled. She pushed Sherlock up a little so that she could wriggle under his head. His head now rested on her stomach. "I'm almost frightened to look to my right." He murmured, all of his masculine instincts telling him to look right. "I honestly don't care whether you do or not." He finally gave in and looked right, meeting a view of her D cup breasts (in a shirt, obviously) and her face with a raised eyebrow. "Knew you couldn't resist." He looked at her with a smirk.
"Uncomfortable?"
"Not really. Just move your head up a little." He did so and she wriggled down a little more. His head was situated on her chest. He turned right and watched her stare at the ceiling. Lydia could feel his eyes on her face and she tried not to blush. Instead, she began running her fingers through the mass of curls on his head. He seemed to enjoy it because he sighed, as though he had been holding his breath for a while. He had changed so much since the last time she had seen him. She had missed him so bad but had never let on in case she embarrassed herself. Sherlock didn't seem to care however, and had begged her to return anyway. He just seems so different. Sure, we flirted a while ago but if I'm honest, even all that flirting had nothing do to do with feelings. Those silly innuendo's we'd sometimes say to each other were nothing compared to what I had just experienced in my first hour here. We had made jokes about having sex and stuff before and I had done that little 'seduction trick' on him before. His reaction back then had been nothing compared to now.

Sherlock moved so that his head was no longer on Lydia's chest and was now laying the proper way. He propped his head up with his left hand and let the right hand hang loosely off of his hip. He was still watching her.

Holy shit… His hair, so dark and curly… His face is so masculine and sharp… His hands are so long and slender… He had really shot up as well. He had to have grown another few inches easily. His eyes… They were still that same icy blue. They were bordering grey now and held near to no emotion. Of course, I had easily noticed the happiness in his eyes, his annoyance at John for starting the seduction and his obvious lust afterwards. I regret not kissing his lips earlier. They look so soft and pink… Untouched… I don't think Sherlock has ever kissed anyone. I find myself yearning to be the first. Hmm… I wonder… Does he still have a six pack? Not a noticeable one, of course, like those men on steroids or something. Just one that showed he was strong and could easily take someone on. I couldn't wait to find out if he still had one…

"You do know that you're staring at me." She was jerked out of her thoughts by his deep irresistible voice. She blushed profusely and looked away.
"No, I didn't know." Sherlock frowned and leaned closer, just a fraction.
"You never blush. What's wrong?"
"I can't blush now? I'm embarrassed at being caught looking at you. I didn't even realize I was looking at you which is embarrassing in itself! Y-."
Sherlock had crawled on top of her. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit… "There's something wrong with you. I'm going to find out what." He mumbled, looking into her eyes. She couldn't tear her eyes away.
"You're trying to use my own skill against me? Bully." She murmured. He smirked and rolled off, allowing her to breathe properly again.
"I will learn how to use that against you. Mark me."
"Oh, I will."
"Thank you for making my trousers uncomfortable. I'm going downstairs now." She burst into laughter.
"See you in the morning, my love!"
"You just made it worse. Thank you. See you tomorrow. We'll be heading to the crime scene tomorrow. Get a good night sleep."
"I'll be dreaming of you."
"I swear, I'm going to pounce on you and you won't be able to do anything to stop me."
"Will you be dreaming of me?
"I have no doubt."
"Will it be a wet dream?"
"… I have no doubt. Now go to sleep."
"Good night, sex toy number 2!"

"…"
"Number two?"
"Yes, number two. Have a problem?"
"Yes, yes I do. Who is this new number 1?"
"Oh, you wouldn't know him. He's in Japan. I met him the fourth day I was there. He was my sex toy a few weeks later. We were inseparable."
"… I see. You two actually had sex?"
"Yup."
"How can I be sex toy number 2 when we haven't had sex yet?"
"Oh, you said yet."
"Yes, let's face it, it's inevitable. It's just fun to put it off."
"True. Anyway, yes, we had sex. A lot."

"Jealous yet?"
"Very much so."
"Aww, poor Sherlock. You can make up for it if you come back here now."
"What do I have to make up for?"
"If you come back up, you'll be sex toy number 1."
"One more condition."
"Go on."
"This man from Japan is out of the equation."
"He already is."
"Good."
"Now come back here." Sherlock walked back into the room and lay on the bed once more, surprising Lydia fully when he yanked her by her belt loops on top of him.
"Now try and go to sleep."
"I hate you, Sherlock."

"Oh, and by the way, there never was a man in Japan."
"… You're joking."
"Nope. I love the fact that you can't tell if I'm lying or not."
"Be quiet and go to sleep."

How'd you like that? I realize that Sherlock is a bit OOC in the story but he hasn't seen this woman in 5 years, 9 months and 12 days. I hadn't initially wanted this chapter to go like this but it seems okay. Anywho, apologies for the constant dialogue without any narration. I did this because as I imagined it, they were just lying there or one of them was standing while the other was sitting or both were doing whatever. It seemed to come out alright and I sincerely hope it looks cool for you guys too. I have the crime sorted out and what actually happened when it's solved and etc. It's going to be fluffy (of course) and this'll be rated M for all of these sexual references. Enjoy. Cheers folks.
Luna