A/N: I am always ALWAYS always astonished by the feedback and how many people add this story to their lists. I'm so happy that you all like this! :D And I couldn't help but laugh at SparkRevolutions's review. Tumblr user? What is air? Just uuuugh. I love you guys! And I'm happy that so many musicians are enjoying this! I was worried I wouldn't portray what I wanted in the right way and give the musicality the justice it deserves.
I really hope you like this one! I'm not entirely sure on parts of it but i wanted to get the thoughts out.
No music on this one. But I want to try something new. Instead of telling me how you like it, tell me what you would've wanted differently about it. Plot, grammar, word choice, or anything. How can I improve it for you all?
Just a few days later, Anna was back at the corner café, resuming her waitressing job. The day had been fairly busy thus far and a moderate clump of bills and change wadded in her apron hit her leg when she walked. Oh, the small perks of being a waitress; carrying cash was rather nice, at times.
Darlene brought a bus tub full of dishes from the front and to the dish rom. "I suppose you didn't listen to me did you?" She asked in passing. "I bet your still seeing that Holmes fellow, aren't you?"
"I'm not seeing anyone." Anna's demeanor darkened a little, though she didn't explain why.
"Just worried about you is all. He's a risky character."
The mobile in her apron vibrated.
Come over now.
I'm at work.
It's an emergency.
Please.
Anna rubbed her face a little as weariness began to set in.
"That's him isn't it?" Darlene placed a hand on her wide hip.
"Yeah, it is. And I'm sorry. There's an emergency. Can you handle it here on your own?"
"Yes. Get out of here." She playfully swatted at Anna's arm. "Hope everything is okay!" Darlene yelled as Anna rushed out the front door.
With a quick cab ride, Anna made it to 221B in less than ten minutes. She'd even tipped the cabby for driving over the limit.
Anna pushed her way through the front door and up the two sets of stairs. Their flat door was pushed open and she ran through. She looked around; there was no sight of struggle, no damage, nothing out of place (more than usual).
"Finally."
Anna spun around to see Sherlock lying on the couch on his stomach. His left cheek was squished into the cushion.
"Sherlock, what's wrong? What's the emergency?" She huffed out, short of breath.
"I need your help." He muffled from the couch cushion.
"Okay. With what?"
"My back." He grumbled and huffed.
"Sherlock, I was at work! You called me from work for an emergency. This is an emergency?" Her hands flopped at her side.
"Yet you came anyways." His tone was exasperated.
Anna let out a sigh. He was right. Of course.
"You didn't play again, did you?" Sherlock closed his eyes and Anna took that as a confirmation. "Why didn't you talk to John about this?"
"He's gone." Sherlock grumbled again.
John Watson had spent the night over at Lisa's flat. It was a lovely night. They'd had a few drinks, spent the night in, and fell asleep in each others' arms. It was really quite sweet. In circumstances such as this, one would think he would be in a fabulous mood!
He wasn't.
Since he'd arrived at Lisa's place, Mycroft had been texting him.
We need to talk.
No. I'm busy.
A few hours would pass.
It's important.
Then find Sherlock.
A few more hours passed until he'd receive another.
It's about Sherlock.
No.
The next morning, John had a late breakfast with Lisa and, after a long shared kiss, John was on his way. Then, his mobile vibrated in his pocket and his mood turned even more fowl.
"What do you want, Mycroft?"
"Get in the car, would you?" Mycroft hung up.
As John exited Lisa's building, he spotted Mycroft's typical sleek black car. He let out a groan and rubbed the bridge of his nose before walking over to the vehicle and got in.
Once John settled, Mycroft motioned for the driver to move forward. Then the two of them sat in silence, buildings sliding past them.
"Mycroft, what do you want." John was becoming frustrated. He just wanted one bloody night with his girlfriend.
"My brother has altered his normal habits, quite drastically."
"Is someone watching our flat? Do you have someone watching my flat?" John felt the muscles in his back tense up.
"No. We're not interested in you."
"Oh right, my mistake." John shifted in his seat and crossed his ankles. "If you're so interested in Sherlock, why don't you just talk to him?"
"We both know how that would end, don't we?" Mycroft rolled off his tongue.
"Now, tell me. What is the relationship between my brother and one Miss Anna Carlson?" Mycroft shifted his gaze from out the side window and directly to John's face now.
"Alright, get on the floor. Can you do that?"
Sherlock groaned as he pushed himself up onto his knees and managed to roll onto the floor. He lay in the same position: face up to one side, palms up, and utterly motionless.
"Okay, well…let's see what helps."
Anna let her purse fall to the ground and she stripped herself of her jacket and apron.
Without any warning, Anna braced herself near the wall and put her full weight on Sherlock's body as she stepped on his back.
"Ugggghhm." He sounded into the floorboards.
Anna gingerly moved from his lower back up to between his shoulder blades. With every few movements, different vertebrae would pop and crack.* She walked her way slowly down to his lower back again and stepped off.
"How's that?" She bent down. Sherlock tried to push off from the ground. As his back arched downward, he groaned again. He fell back flat to the ground.
"Okay. Here, stay there." Anna rolled up her sleeves to her elbows and stood over his still frame. With a quick gulp of courage, Anna straddled her legs on each side, came down to her knees and sat on his very low back.
What do you mean?" John shook his head, not quite understanding.
"They've been spending an awful lot of time together. Can you explain that?"
"Oh. She plays the cello. They make music together."
Mycroft smirked from the corner of his mouth. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
The meaning of Mycroft's comment took a moment to sink it and John was taken back at the implication. His head quickly shook back and forth again. "No." His hands waved in front of his body. "No, Sherlock doesn't date! He told me that right off."
Mycroft studied John a quick moment and asked, "Am I sensing resentment and jealousy, Dr. Watson?"
"What? What! No!" John's arms waved in front of him faster. "Why does everyone assume I'm gay!"
"It's not my business, I suppose." Mycroft shrugged his shoulders.
"No, it's not." He looked out the window. "And I'm not gay." He quickly added.
Their vehicle pulled up in front of 221B and came to a halt.
"It was a pleasure talking with you, as always."
"Afternoon, Mycroft." John rose from the car and was never happier to be outside of 221B.
It was turning out to be a hell of a day.
John pushed open the front door and started the ascent to his shared flat.
She could feel Sherlock's muscles contract with her added weight on his own body. Once she began kneading her fingers into them delicately, they loosened up. Like she had before, Anna worked into the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck. Her fingers ran at the base of his hairline and Anna could feel small tremors go through his body.
Anna continued to work at the tight, sore muscles of his shoulders. Many violinists carry pains in their left shoulder. After all, the position of these musicians is not particularly normal.
She could tell when her ministrations began to take clear effect when Sherlock's breathing became deep and small, almost inaudible moans started to come out. It was clear at this point that this was now for enjoyment rather than help. Obviously, she'd already helped through the pain.
Unlike before, Anna was able to reach lower down his back. She began to trail lower and lower. When her fingers fanned out to the side, Anna noticed his muscles tighten up and twitch a little.
Unsure of the reaction, Anna tried the movement again.
"No." Sherlock grunted and a broad grin spread across her cheeks.
"Is someone ticklish right there?"
Sherlock didn't bother answering but grunted again and waited for Anna to beginning kneading at his skin again.
Slowly, at first, Anna worked at the muscles at his mid back. But really, who could resist this? Sherlock Holmes being ticklish!
Anna tested the waters and started to ghost her fingers against his side.
Rapidly, Anna found herself twisted onto her back and Sherlock's weight pressed down on her.
Anna gaped up to him, wide-eyed and speechless.
"I said no."
Then a creak in the floor from behind them sounded.
*I have my roommate do this to me all the time. It feels so good!
Sorry for all of the breaks but I wasn't entirely sure how to fit it all within the right timeline. Anyways, I hope it at least made you smile. :)