Cater To You
I entered the living room, only to duck out of the way, when a stack of papers flew by my head.
I covered my head with my arms, expecting something heavier to go zooming above me. When nothing did, I flicked my eyes up, the sight of the cluttered living room meeting my eyes.
The area was in a complete disarray, more so than it usually was. What seemed like thousands of crumpled and discarded papers decorated the floor, along with several laptops and assorted magazines. And in the midst of the chaos, was a very frazzled and perturbed, Sherlock Holmes.
"Where is it? Where is it?" He asked in a flustered tone, as he sifted through the piles of debris.
"Where's what?" I queried, moving my arms from my head. I followed the detective's erratic movements, not certain if I wanted to intervene.
"The damned decor company's number. They got the color all wrong, the imbeciles. I specified that the tablecloths were to be champagne red, not vermillion. I didn't think it worthwhile to remember their digits, and now, it seems to have wandered off." Sherlock spouted, not ceasing in his search. I smiled fondly at the proud man, before skirting around the destruction of his devotion. The title of a magazine caught my eye, bringing forth a chuckle from my throat.
"Why are you laughing?" Sherlock asked childishly, swinging around to face me.
"Oh, Sherlock." I laughed. "Do you know what day it is?" I asked, pursing my lips in a smirk. Sherlock sighed deeply, rubbing in between his eyebrows with his fingers.
"The day I might actually off myself?" He guessed, stress evident in his voice.
I hit his arm playfully, my mouth open in shock. "No. It's your birthday silly." I answered, beaming up at the scowling man.
"No need to remind me of my impending demise." Sherlock retorted, rolling his beautiful mixed eyes.
"Stop being so dramatic." I commanded, grabbing his arm and leading him to his chair.
"Today is your day darling. Just sit down and relax." I ordered sweetly, plopping the tall man down in his seat.
"How can I relax? There's still so much more tedious work to be done." He growled, tapping his fingers on the side of the chair impatiently.
"Shh… The wedding planning can wait." I assured him, moving to the back of his seat. "Besides, you work too hard." I purred, as I began to knead his tense shoulders.
"Stop trying to distract me." Sherlock snapped, though the words were shaky. I worked my fingers into his shoulders, soothing the tight knots residing there. It wasn't long before I could feel the consulting detective go limp under me. He moaned softly at the feeling, though he tried hard to conceal his pleasure. I smiled softly, leaning down, until my lips were at his ear.
"Tonight Mr. Holmes, I'm going to treat you like a king. Whatever you desire, I'll deliver. Just tell me what to do and I'll ensure that your wishes are fulfilled." I whispered, feeling his heartbeat pound faster under my hands.
"How about a nice hot bath? Or a steamy meal for two? Or perhaps you're in the mood for something else?" I cooed seductively, running my hands down his chest. Sherlock's chest rose heavily, his eyes closed. I languidly ran my hands through his mane, biting my lip at the reaction I was getting from him.
"John's out for the evening. And Mrs. Hudson is in a deep slumber. We have the flat all to ourselves." I said, pressing my lips to his throat. I could feel his strong veins pulsing under me, the sound music to my ears.
I regretfully moved from my position, to stand in front of him, smirking in triumph at my handiwork.
"Want…." Sherlock breathed, his lids still shut.
"Want what?" I asked, leaning over his relaxed form.
His hands shot out to wrap around my waist, pulling me onto the chair, against his body. I let out a gasp, the sudden action making the air leave my lungs. I pressed my hands on the detective's shoulders, trying to balance myself.
"You." Sherlock rumbled, capturing my lips in his own. My heart rate sped up at the passion he was displaying, and before long I had to come up for air.
When he pulled back I could see his fully dilated pupils, reflected by the single lit lamp in the room. I swallowed nervously, not expecting such a strong reaction.
Sherlock didn't give me time to recover however, before he began pressing heated kisses to my exposed throat. I held on to him, feeling like I would fall if I didn't. He wrapped his arms tighter around me, preventing me from escaping, as he assaulted my skin. I could feel the room starting to spin, my mind losing all sense of balance.
My hands had unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, before there was a knock at the door.
I growled in frustration, before shoving myself off my stimulated fiancée, much to his displeasure.
"One second." I mouthed to Sherlock, laughing lightly at his not so amused, expression.
Who in God's name could be knocking at this time of night anyway? I wondered, unlatching the door. Too late I realized, that Sherlock was calling my name from his chair. I swung the door open, not expecting what came next.
A cloud of dust flew in my face, blinding me, until a strong smell reached my nostrils. My body fell to the ground, immobilized, until seconds later, when my sight went black.
Author's Note: Annnd.. CLIFFHANGER! Hate me if you want… What do you think will happen next?
Song; Cater To You, By Destiny's Child P.S… I own nothing but my Oc…