His Dom had come, just as the Mistress had said two days prior. He could barely contain his excitement, but he knew he had to. If he moved without permission he would be punished again. Mistress Irene was most kind when she was happy, but when he disobeyed, she could be very cruel indeed, as the scars on his back could attest to. When the Detective burst into the room it was all he could do to keep his head down, but he couldn't help the grin that spread across his lips. Not caring that there was a second pair of male feet standing just inside his range of vision he bowed his head farther forwards until his forehead nearly touched the floor. The greeting that Mistress Irene had made him practice fell easily from his lips. 'I am grateful that you have come for me Master. Please let me know how I might be of service.'

'John?'

Sherlock's confused voice brought his happiness to a halt. Hadn't he said it right? He was sure that he had. He tensed, waiting for some sort of punishment. 'Have I displeased you Master? Mistress made sure that I was ready for you to fetch me today.'

'God damn it Sherlock, what has she done to him?'

Oh, Lestrade, that would make sense then. He and Sherlock had known each other for years after all. 'Inspector Lestrade, Mistress Irene has trained me to be of service to my dominant, the Detective.' He sat up once more, careful to keep his eyes averted.

'Trained?' Lestrade's voice was disgusted and distressed.

Sherlock took a step back and John watched through his lashes as the other man slid down the wall, the Browning held in a slack grip, shock written across his precious features. Lestrade moved behind him and he heard the rustle of fabric as the man dug around in the closet. A few moments later, a pile of clothing was dropped in front of him.

'Here. You should… you should dress, I think.'

'Master?'

Sherlock started, 'Don't call me that.'

John flinched. 'Of course. What would you like me to call you?'

Sherlock shook his head. 'What you always used to.'

'By your name?' John was happily shocked. Mistress Irene had told him that that was the ultimate sign of approval. 'Thank you.' He looked at the clothes on the floor before him. 'Do you wish me to dress Sherlock?'

'Yes John.'

Moving slowly and keeping his eyes downcast, John picked up the clothing and carefully dressed in the cloths that he had been taken by Mistress Irene in.

'John why aren't you looking at me?'

Tipping his head to the side he carefully considered his answer. Mistress Irene had said that he might have to help Master Sherlock along a bit at first. 'You haven't given me permission to.'

'That's it?' Sherlock's voice was taken aback. 'You have to have permission for that?'

'Yes.'

'Christ Sherlock, I think she broke him. We need to get out of here.'

Sherlock pushed himself up from the floor and grabbed John's chin and forcibly raised it, releasing a displeased growl when his eyes slid shut. 'Look at me John.'

Hazel eyes opened to meet silvery green.

Sherlock's voice was soft. 'Let's go home.'

John smiled. 'As long as I'm with you.'

SH/JW

AN: Thank you to all my lovely readers. Here's another installment of Taken, AKA Damn that bitch. I do hope that you liked it. Please do stick with me, this will not be a short story I promise that. ;-)

Disclaimer: Not mine...