A/N: A short one, but nonetheless wanted to update for the awesome people who've asked for more. :)
I'm bumping this up to mature due to sexual content, though I'm not a very explicit writer. Still, if such things bother you leave now! It's Irene Adler we're talking about after all.
Enjoy, read and review!

Irene closed her eyes in bliss as she allowed yet another wave of pleasure to sweep over her. There were reasons she'd kept Kate around. She tended to forget them sometimes.

Rolling over she glanced back towards the computer just in time to see movement on the screen. Kate groaned when she pushed her aside, but Irene had to get closer, had to see. She pressed the volume button, turning it up so she could hear as well.

"Jaaaaaaawwwwn," Sherlock pleaded as he thrashed on the bed.

Irene began to laugh as the consulting detective rose up to his knees before tumbling forward face first. Too good. She hadn't expected this little joy; she'd get to the good part in a few seconds.

She watched the door open and Dr. Watson come in to be surprised by the sight of Sherlock on the floor. He was mumbling things about her, until at last John pushed Sherlock back into bed and left him there.

He squirmed beneath the sheets, groaning. Her eyes widened as she watched his hand move beneath the sheet. Oh yes. Yes! Her breathing sped up, warmth growing in her belly as she watched the detective begin to touch himself.

"I should have done something like this months ago," Irene moaned, head falling back as she let arousal and desire overwhelm her. She turned back towards Kate. It seemed a bit unfair to require so much of her in such a short time, but the other woman appeared equally aroused an interested by the activities on screen.

"And to think this is only the beginning," Irene said, pulling Kate closer and sealing their mouths together in a passion filled kiss.

Sherlock awoke disoriented, mind flitting through the experiences of earlier with a great amount of frustration. How had the woman managed it? She had bested him, drugged him, taken the phone. He'd had it in his hand! Blast. He tried to sit up, wondering suddenly where he was. Did the woman keep him? He vaguely remembered her leaning over him and whispering something…something on a show…something on…

"John!" he realized that was what she'd said. Something about John.

His words came out garbled. His body felt strange, heavy, his limbs suddenly unwieldy. He sat up, but jolted forward, toppling to the floor just in time for John to enter and find him lying there. His heart was racing, breath coming fast as he managed to stand, frantically looking for signs of her. She'd been here. He was certain of it. She'd been—what had she been doing? Leaning over him…something bad. Something very bad.

John suddenly was grabbing him, pulling him back onto the bed. Those firm hands on his chest felt undeniably good. And it was then that Sherlock began to be aware of the steadily growing heat within him, the warmth curling in his belly, body reacting to unknown stimuli.

"Back to bed! You'll be fine in the morning. Just sleep," John said, sliding the covers over him.

Sherlock groaned and twisted, trying to make sense of what was happening. He hadn't felt like this since he was a teenager, since hormones he couldn't control had run rampant through his body. But now, as an adult, it had been years since he'd felt anything like this.

"I'll be next door if you need me," John said.

He was glad he was lying on his stomach, hiding any signs of arousal from John. No, John couldn't know he was feeling this way. No one could. This was—strange. He needed to figure out what was going on.

"Why would I need your help?" he managed to mutter. He could feel his face heating to match the rest of his body, well aware of the growing warmth inside, the potential consequences of that as well. He shifted against the mattress, relieved as John seemed to get the picture that he didn't need help.

"No reason at all," John said as he went out the door.

The door shut, and Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. He rolled over, a hand reaching down to push his pants aside. It had been a long time since he'd done something like this, but nonetheless, the soft touches made some of the heat dissipate, allowed a small amount of respite. He breathed deeply, trying to quiet any sighs or moans, knowing John was just outside listening in to make sure there wasn't anything wrong. Mmm John…

For some odd reason the thought of the doctor brought further interest to his arousal. He wasn't quite sure why. Years ago he'd had a partner or two, only brief physical intimacies, but since that time he hadn't considered anyone else. But John's hands had been on him only a minute before. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps that was why he suddenly couldn't stop thinking of John, John reaching down to tug the sheets aside. John touching him. John…kissing him?

The kiss he'd shared in front of Irene Adler seemed ages ago, but still the memory was there, lingering in perfect detail in his mind. John's frozen lips against his. John's body stiffening a bit and then relaxing as they leaned closer. John's taste, John's scent, John's breathy sighs.

He couldn't resist. Sherlock gave into the building pressure, allowed the desire within to build and at last crescendo. As the final moments came, he just barely dared to call out the name most on his mind.

"John!"

He gasped as pleasure overwhelmed him. As his body went lax, he heard footsteps again. Groaning he shifted to clean himself some, closing his eyes and trying to steady his breath as the door opened again. John stood there a moment. Sherlock did his best to imitate sleep. To ease himself back into something of a relaxed state.

The doctor gave a small curse, something about his imagination. Then the door closed, and he was left in peace once more. He opened his eyes and glanced towards it to make sure, noticing the coat hanging there. To his surprise a soft noise echoed from the coat pocket, but whatever it was he didn't have the energy to get up.

He felt boneless. His body had completely given up trying to move or making more of an effort to clean. Sherlock sighed and let his eyes flutter shut again. Hopefully in the morning this would all be over. John was right. All he needed was a little bit of sleep.

Irene could hardly restrain herself. Oh that was even better than expected. She'd thought a little more prodding would be needed, but she had been right in thinking interest was already there. Her little aphrodisiac mixture had merely accelerated the process. All you really needed was the right catalyst in a chemical reaction and the rest would take care of itself. And what these two men had was as chemical as reactions went.

Unable to restrain a smile, she leaned a bit closer, admiring the lines of the detective's body on the bed, his slim chest rising and falling with the deeper breaths of sleep.

"Wow, they're really going to go for it then," Kate commented with a giggle. "You were right."

"I'm always right," Irene corrected. "And if Dr. Watson feels anything remotely similar, it's only a matter of time before both of them will be rolling around on the bed together. Can you imagine, Kate? It will be so lovely."

"Yes," Kate agreed. "And what was that with the phone?"

"Oh just a little surprise. I think the both of them will find it quite interesting." Irene smirked and pressed the button on her own phone, playing the orgasmic sigh for Kate to hear.

"Ooh, was that from last night?" Kate asked.

"Of course," Irene said with a chuckle. "Sadly, not all my noises will be reserved for your listening pleasure. But no worries, darling. I'll let him get used to it for a time. But I think I might change it after a bit."

She tapped out a message on her own phone. Hope you're thinking of me, handsome. ;) xxx

"Now, we just sit and wait," she told Kate. "And in time, they'll both do exactly as I want."