NOTE: I hope you will like the new addition! It took me forever to write, new job kept me busy… But next chapter is nearly ready!

Chapter 8: Just a nice dinner

After their little adventure Gemma decided that she needed something to eat and convinced Sherlock to go to a fancy restaurant in town, in fact the only fancy one in town.

Gemma changed into a sleek black silk dress and Sherlock stayed with his purple shirt. Gemma liked that one anyway. The restaurant was small and placed in the old part of town in an old art nouveau house with a beautiful shop front. The street was plastered with cobblestone. It was that kind of restaurant that looked so fancy from the outside that you probably would not dare to go in.

Sherlock and Gemma got a small table near one of the big windows, Sherlock took Gemma´s coat and she couldn´t help but be surprised by his manners.

While their main course Sherlock started a discussion that let to quite an argument.

Gemma was already more than annoyed and she was so proud to have pulled it together so well until now.

"Oh please! Don´t make me reconsider my commitment, Sherlock. Don´t make me think you are as dull as everyone else."

Sherlock just rolled his eyes.

"You seriously believe that?! Planning a crime in its details is much more complicated than rewinding it step by step. You must see that, right!?"

She threw her arms up to emphasize her words and fell back in her chair.

"It is obvious that this way requires a lot more of effort and skill." Sherlock stated completely calm despite the fact that he was quite agitated.

Gemma leaned forward over the small table diner long finished by now and whispered:

"You should try the other way around. I promise you, you would be brilliant." She winked and Sherlock actually laughed.

"No thank you very much."

That was a point the conversation shifted and Sherlock was positive that Gemma was upset but he didn´t know for sure why. Yet another thing he would´ve to ask John about.

Shortly after they left the restaurant and from that point it went nuts.

Sherlock looked down at the small woman beneath him. It was easy to tell that she was slightly drunk; she nearly drank the whole bottle of red wine by herself when Sherlock refused to have more than a glass for dinner. They stepped out of the fancy restaurant in the cool damp air and started to walk back to their hotel. Gemma was vivid, Sherlock could easily deduce that. An argument about her line of work was a no good dinner talk, he noted for later occasions.

Both stayed silent for a long time and it started to drizzle. Sherlock surly did not see the point of apologizing. Why should he, he was right obviously.

"Fuck you Sherlock Holmes!" She stated after a few more minutes of heavy silence.

"Beg you pardon?!" He turned to look at her, why would she start to insult him?
"What the hell is wrong with you?! Why can´t you have a normal conversation without being such a moron?" "There is nothing wrong with me." He spat out through his gritted teeth. "Oh, I don´t think that´s quite true! There is a lot wrong with you! And making the only person in the whole wide world, who understands you upset, is surly, not very smart!" Gemma increased her speed. "Hey! There is nothing wrong with me! I am not responsible for your dullness!" "Oh you miss the point here, honey." Her voice was sharp not even trying to hide her anger. "I don´t even know why I am here with you. You are just pushing me over the edge!" Gemma stopped, turned on her expensive heels and slapped him hard across his cheekbones. Irene was wrong, she didn´t cut her hand, she mused. Startled he stumbled a few steps back. Now he was furious too and he stepped forward to grab her shoulders and slammed her against the closest wall in a dark alley. The bricks hit her back pretty hard and she exhaled sharply. Their eyes locked with furrowed eyebrows they glared at each other. The only sound audible was the slight rain and the light sound of their heavy breaths. The rain increased and both were soaking wet in minutes but they didn´t move; both did not want to give the other one the satisfaction to give in. Sherlock´s damp curls glued to his face. His eyes gone cold, no trace of blue left in them just a stormy grey. How would this one end? Are they going to kill each other in that dark alley? While Sherlock tried to figure out what his next move should be, he was hit hard in his groins. Gemma had pulled her knee up forcefully to free herself from his tight grip. The tall man bent over groaning in pain as she decided that it was about time someone taught him a lesson. Her hand reached in his wet hair pulling his face up. A smirk was the last thing he remembered as he gained his consciousness again, lying on the pavement. A heel kicked him hard and he rolled over to lie on his back now heavily panting. He had always thought hitting a woman was a foolish and cowardly thing to do, but Gemma was certainly not any woman and he could struggle with this later. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her off her feet. Gemma hit her head and remained still for a few seconds before someone; Sherlock apparently, grabbed her by the collar of her coat and pulled her up only to push her against the bricks again. Her head throbbed and a painful moan escaped her lips as his hand slapped her hard across her face. Her lip started to bleed and she could taste her own blood. She struggled to kick him away but he would not fall for it again. He watched her carefully and recognized clear signs of arousal, her pupils almost covered her whole iris, her flushed cheeks and the darker red of her lips, despite of the blood; gave her away, she enjoyed fighting, she always did, and Sherlock couldn´t say he did not. But he preferred to be in control, he liked her struggling under his firm grip. He fixed both of her hands with one of his slender ones over her head and leaned down so he was close to her face. His lips twitched just a little bit but the smirk was apparent.

"Don´t you dare!" She threatened in vain. His pale bleeding lips came closer; she could feel his quickened breath on her own lips. For a moment he hesitated and Gemma could do nothing but stare with wide eyes, a shiver went down her spine and she was too aware of the gravity of the situation and the fact she could not handle it. Sherlock's blue eyes scanned her face, his grip tightened around the collar of her coat, the smile had faded and his brows furrowed. Only a heartbeat, a rush of blood through the body and he´d made his decision. He pushed his lips against her red and bleeding ones. The kiss was intense more violent than caressing, Gemma flinched, helplessly trying to pull free but he was stronger than she had imagined, holding her in place. When she tried to pull her small face away his free hand grabbed her chin and put her back in position. Her horrified look pushed him finally over the edge and he kissed her again roughly. The taste of their blood mixing in their mouths as Sherlock forced her to part her lips. His free hand now trailed down her small posture to get a firm hold on her waist, pushing her against him and Gemma gave in. Her eyes fluttered shut and a sigh aspirated in their kiss. It was the most delicate, the most needed kiss, but Gemma felt a hint of panic rising in her chest. The loss of control changed the kiss in something different.

Excitement flooded Sherlock's body and he loosened the grip around her wrists to pull of her exquisite coat. And like it was her cue Gemma with her hands free pushed him away as hard as she could. Her heart bumped against her chest and she thought her rips might not be able to hold it. Heavy breaths made it hard for her to articulate and so did Sherlock´s puzzled face. "Don´t," was the only thing she managed to exclaim. She straightened up whipping away the blood on her lips with the back of her hand. "You wanted this in the first place, I don´t understand, I finally give in and now you don´t want me to!" Sherlock´s confusion was almost touchable between them. "I never – I -" Her head dropped a little bit and she stormed out of the alley.

Sherlock didn´t entertain himself as an expert in things concerning sex, but he knew that this was odd. Something was off about her. So what? Why was he even wondering? She was a pretty insane criminal mastermind, her behavior was always odd and off. He tried to clean himself up a bit and walked slowly back to the hotel. Pain ran through his body with every step and the rain didn´t make it any more comfortable to be outside. When he reached the hotel there were no signs of Gemma and he couldn´t help but feel concern. The small hotel she had picked for their vacations had just a small desk and no one was there. Sherlock didn´t mind he was in no mood to explain the bruises in his face that had started to form. Easily he lent over the desk to look for his key, oddly it was already gone.