Crutch

Mary had taken a liking to me rather quickly, not to stroke my ego but I could see why; that little spark of home that she had missed so dearly was now right in front of her in tangible form, and I enjoyed her company as well. Not that I didn't like Clarice or Addison, but having a conversation with someone that sounded as if they stepped out of King Arthurs court could be tiresome. So was having a conversation with Sherlock for that matter.

Mary had shown me how to tend to the horses, it kept me busy and calmed my mind during the day and allowed me to do my share. I felt as if something needed to be done, Addison did open up his home to us, after all. I gave Linota a few loving pats to her hind leg after I was done brushing her coat and offered a few apple slices from the pocket of my khakis. She sniffed my hand before gently taking the slices from me and quickly enjoyed them, giving me a small whinny and a gently nudge with her nose into my hand when she was done. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Sorry, that's it; all gone, all I had, and I gave it to you."

She pressed her nose into me again and I let my hand go up and scratch her behind the ears. I never looked at horses as anything but something to pull those annoying carriages around town and rob tourists of their money, I guess I should have stopped along the street and given one some of the admiration it deserved instead the horn honking they usually received. Linota let out a puff of air and put her head softly on my shoulder and I laughed again and continued down the length of her neck.

"She likes you."

I turned to see Sherlock's body propped up against the doorframe of the barn, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

"What did, how—no, never mind, I don't want to know," I shook my head and took a step closer to him.

"Wait, yes, yes I do," I continued.

Even partially shadowed I could see him smirk as he arched his eyebrows.

"I swear to god Holmes if you injure yourself further—"

"Not to worry, Samantha dear," he cut me off, leaning away from the doorway. Out of instinct I started to hurry to his side when he pulled a crutch out from behind the door.

"See, nothing to fret," he grinned and tapped it on the wooden door, before hobbling in towards me, grunting with each step he took. I sighed and went to his side, sliding under his good arm and taking some of his weight and led him to a bale of hay.

"Thanks be to thee, fair maiden," he said, looking up at me while puffing out his chest and placing his hands on his hips.

I was quick to clasp my hand over his mouth.

"Shhh, shut up," I laughed. I felt him grin against my skin. "Why couldn't you just stay put until you were better?" I probed him while rolling my eyes.

"Come now, Samantha. That room could only hold my interest for only so long, you leave throughout the day—"

"Only because—"

"I know why," he re-interrupted. "Pompous is the word you like to use I believe," he said accusingly lifting his eyebrows.

"I was going to say fidgety," I snapped.

"Oh," he furrowed his brow. "Nonetheless, look at what I have been missing, Samantha!" He waved his arms around the stables and tapped the cane on the ground. "What is this, I'd say mid fifteenth century at best, judging by the architecture and their clothes," he rambled on, "I didn't get a good look at the market, I'd quite like to go back there," he continued, rubbing the light stubble on his chin.

"Not quite half," I whispered, "but don't worry Mr. Holmes I won't hold that against you," I winked.

His chocolate eyes snapped up and locked up onto mine, frantically scanning them for some type of answer; I only stared blankly and grinned.

"How is my face going to tell you what you're looking for," I smiled sweetly bouncing on my toes.

Sherlock ran his hands through his hands and groaned and without thinking pushed himself up on his legs and with a sharp intake of air started to come back down again.

"Damnit Sherlock!" I hurried beneath him, but not fast enough and we both landed on the straw ground, him rolling over and grasping his leg and I my middle. Eventually we both turned to face one another, faces slightly pale from pain and hay weaved into our hair.

"That could have been avoided," he scolded, closing his eyes and sighing, rolling over onto his back.

I answered his sigh with one of my own and plucked a piece of straw from behind his ear. "Fourteen twenty six," I said softly. I scooted up and brought my lips close to his ear, "and I'm sorry," I whispered placing a kiss just below the gray tufts in his hair. "Come, I'll help you up." I sat up and was promptly stopped by Sherlock's hand encircling my wrist. I looked back to see warm brown eyes staring back at me. He used his other arm to push himself up, his eyes lingering on mine the entire time, offering me his own soft smile of apology.

Sherlock gently laid a hand in the center of my chest, he grinned when he felt the immediate change in my heart beat and I felt my face go pink.

"Lie down," he commanded with a low tone

"Sherlock I—" I dropped my voice to a hushed whisper. "We're in the middle of an open barn."

He flashed a full smile. "I am well aware of our surroundings, Samantha darling." He paused, waiting to do as I was told, his hand still on my chest and my little heart pounding away, he leaned in closer. "Now lie back," he said huskily when he was hardly an inch away, his eyes dark and inviting and the sweet scent of tobacco escaped from his lips. He closed the gap between us, teasing my lips slowly; his one hand remaining still while the one wrapped around my wrist was now traveling up to the middle of my back. My breath shuddered when he pulled away and began to dip me down himself.

"Sherlock, I…as much as I want…not that I don't want to… it's just,"

He leaned in again and this time pressed the kiss to my forehead. "I only want to take a look at your ribs, Samantha, that opportunity, as it were, just so happened to present itself.

I smiled and scoffed shaking my head as I finally laid back down into the straw. Sherlock Holmes: consulting detective, genius, perhaps a little insane and now dare I add tease to the list?

He rolled up the bottom of my shirt, gently, slowly, his fingertips just barely grazing my skin as he did so, sending bolts of electricity through my spine.

Yeah, he knew what he was doing.

I felt him tenderly trace the outlines of my bruises, which couldn't have been much of anything now, gently pressing the area around my middle checking for tenderness, finding little, and with each touch he was only building my arousal. His hands went to my hips and began to slide up, his thumbs gently pressing into my sides. My breath hitched and my body trembled. I pushed up onto my elbows and glared at him while biting my lower lip.

"Am I causing you discomfort?" he asked, making eye contact with me but his hands kept moving against my skin.

"Something of the sort," I uttered with a coy smile, clearing my throat and sitting up all the way.

"Well I must say Ms. Parker; your wounds do seem to be healing quite nicely." His hands had come to rest on my back now as he sad directly in front of me, his fingers making small intimate circles on my flesh.

"Is that so Mr. Holmes?"

"Mmm," he hummed, removing one of his hands to untangle bits of hay from my hair before tucking it behind my ear.

"And what of your own wounds?" I asked with mock curiosity, "I have it on good authority that the doctor here is not as good as your usual doctor," I teased running my hands up his chest and locking my hands behind his neck.

"Well then, I just might need someone to tend to me as well," he replied, pulling me to him to claim my lips with his own.

"You, or your wounds?" I giggled against his mouth.

Sherlock pulled away slightly and I swear I saw him roll his eyes. "Honestly, my dear Samantha, at this point is there any difference?" He stared at me with a raised eyebrow, actually waiting for an answer.

I chuckled and shook my head.

"Right then." He pulled me back into him and groaned when I raked my fingers through his hair. He slid his tongue along my lower lip and I eagerly welcomed him in, situating myself more on his lap. Sherlock let out a muffled yelp when my leg slid over his injured one. I stopped and pulled away.

"Oh god, Sherlock, I'm sorry, we probably shouldn't do this now anyway." I smiled sadly running my hand down the length of his cheek.

"Perhaps you're right, we shall go back to the house and—"

"Are you serious?" I examined his face like he had examined mine so many times before, those big brown eyes still full of hunger and desire, barely a hint of my detectives mind to be found.

"Always," he stated, cocking his head to the left yet the look in his ever changing face remained the same. I leaned in closer to him.

"Are you on something, Holmes? What's with all the oncoming affection?" I asked accusingly, not being able to help my eyes from drifting down to his fore arms.

"Absolutely not!" He cradled my head in his hands. "You are the only drug that runs through my veins, Samantha."

"No, no, then they gave you something," I laughed.

"Nonsense, I am perfectly capable of showing affection—"

"This is different, this is…this is…I don't know what this is," I gathered his hands in mine, "Not that it's not nice, we have bigger things to attend to." I sighed and pressed kiss to his cheek and let my head rest on his shoulder. "Whatever it was, it must have been good stuff."

Sherlock secured an arm around my shoulder, "I assure you darling, there was nothing. I woke, Addison's father fashioned me the cane, we shared some wine," he paused. "Oh."

"What, oh?"

Sherlock passed a hand over his face.

"Sherlock, I've seen you drink wine, and you can handle more than your share."

He shook his head, "No, it must have been the wine, that man is not far from mad, I wouldn't doubt if his wine was spiked with something." He was slowly coming back now.

"What was in the wine, Sherlock?"

"Help me up, Samantha," he groaned putting pressure on his good leg as I pulled him up by his other arm, leaving to teeter while I got his crutch. I slid under his good side so we could move faster and we exited the barn.

"That way," he nodded behind the main house and led me to a little work shed. He left my side and wandered into the door way, shifting items aside until he found the bottle. It was empty, but still corked, which Sherlock quickly removed and gave the bottle a sniff before licking the stopper. He put the cork back in place and left the bottle behind with a smirk and a shake of the head. Once he was outside he limped over to the large field of surrounding pink and white flowers, bent over and plucked one, before returning to me.

Sherlock cleared his throat and twirled the flower in front of me by the stem.

"Pretty, is that for me as an effect of the wine, or is that the effect of the wine," I said with a wise grin.

"This, my dear Samantha, is valerian, what you call your basic cure all. Headache, nausea, insomnia, aches and pains, and if someone just so happens to mix it up with a little bit of neat wine it can make a very nice aphrodisiac." He stared back at the work shed. "Davidson, son of David and now most defiantly mad."

"Davidson, son of David? That's really how he introduces himself?"

"His exact words," Sherlock grinned.

"Wow, he's almost as prideful as you," I said, giving his shoulder a nudge.

He chuckled, "What happened to pompous?"

"Nah, you're the most pompous person I know, and I'll have you know, I just so happen to adore that."

"I see," he murmured, staring out at the never-ending land that lay before us.

"So I guess it was the wine after all," I sighed, bowing my head and toeing up some dirt with my shoe. I felt his arm slip around my middle and I was pulled into his side, his breath hot in my ear.

"If the world was coated in valerian, it would still not be enough for what I feel for you."

I lifted my head and was greeted by beautiful dark soulful eyes and a hand caressing an unknown tear from my cheek.

"And that, Samantha darling, is not from the wine."

A/N:

ER MAH GAWD YOU GUYS! Holy Moses right? Could it be that I'm really here, back from the land of...I don't know...wherever. I can't promise I'm back, we all know how I like to disappear, but I had way too much fun with this chapter. I really had a crabby Holmes scene plan plotted out, and Mary and Sam had a scene but then both of those got tossed in the trash an Holmes was all in my head saying just let me make out with her please, it's been so damned long woman! So happily I obliged. I see I have some new folks that have jumped on board. Hello and welome! Don't be afraid to drop me a line, I love to talk to you guys! I hope that last bit from Holmes wasn't too much cheese, I just adore tapping into that soft side...seriously, we all know it is there...somewhere. ANYWAY thanks for reading. I've truly missed you and my sweet Samlock. Don't forget to hit that fantastic blue button on your way out the barn!