Chapter 11:

NOTE: Sooo there has been a lot of badass Gemma in the last chapter but as well a lot of things that happened to her. So this one is a bit slower and I finally have decided how it´s going to end

Gemma woke up in the darkness of an unknown room another person´s breath close to her ear and a foreign arm draped over her body. She could feel the drying sweat on her skin making her shiver. Slowly her senses came back to her and she remembered where she was who was sleeping next to her. It was only a dream she tried to tell herself, only a nightmare.

Sherlock stirred next to her and she turned her gaze to look at him. They´d had sex most of the day and hadn´t left the room at all. Sherlock didn´t wake up and Gemma climbed out of the bed carefully and walked through the room putting on a robe in the process. She was searching for Sherlock´s phone it´d been buzzing a few times that day or the last one, she wasn´t exactly sure what time it was. It rested on the small table next to the couch and picked it up with a last glance back but Sherlock was still fast asleep. Ten missed calls and a few texts from John were showing on the display. She didn´t know Sherlock´s code and she knew it was no need to try he wouldn´t have used something like a birthdate. The text started with: "Sherlock! Where the hell are you? Mycroft is furious… " Gemma smiled to herself, corrupting good men was fun. Here was the great Sherlock Holmes naked in her bed sleeping tight after an exhausting day ignoring his family and friends. If they knew where he was and most of all with whom they wouldn´t exactly be thrilled. The great detective never shown any interest in another person and now fucking the one person on earth he should not. It was really ironic. Mycroft should´ve left her alone in the first place before that Gemma had never considered taking a bigger interest in Sherlock Holmes. She put the phone back and slipped back under the still warm covers of the bed.

"Anything interesting?" Sherlock mumbled incoherently.

Gemma hid her surprise. ´What a bastard´, she thought. Sherlock´s arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Your boyfriend called and texted several times." She stated resting her head on his shoulder. She nuzzled her nose in the crook of his neck liking the way he smelled. Sherlock raised his head a bit quirking on eyebrow up.

"John?" He asked after a while.

"Mmhmm." Gemma started to kiss his collarbone.

"What does he want?" Sherlock was about to raise and Gemma whined pushing him down again.

"Something like: where are you? Mycroft is angry! Blabla." There was a stretched silence before Sherlock sighed and got up to get his phone. With the device in hand he climbed over Gemma back into the warmth of the bed.

After a moment while Sherlock stared intently at his phone flickering through missed calls and texts Gemma asked: "What might be the problem?"

"My cover blew." Sherlock was half sitting his back up against the headboard. Gemma pushed herself up to get a better look at the texts Sherlock was reading but he put the phone down and sighed.

"Mycroft is trying to reach me. I have to get back to London." Gemma felt an unpleasant pit settling in her stomach she didn´t like that.

"Now?" Sherlock´s pale eyes rested on her thinking about the question but instead of getting up again he grabbed her small body and pulled her on top of him. Then he cupped her face with his long slender fingers he leaned in and his lips brushed hers gently.

"They can wait until tomorrow, I guess." His hands fell to the lapels of her robe and gripped the silky fabric to drag it over her shoulders.

London

Gemma sat in her office behind her mahogany desk.

When she´d started to make real money she´d carefully picked this antic desk for her office. Normally clients never came in here but business partners were allowed to actually see her face to face and she knew from several occasions that a desk tells a lot about its owner. So she´d chosen this desk: An antic one because she´d liked the thought of a value that remained through time, a big one to keep distance between herself and a business partner, a mahogany one because it was an elegant and timeless material and was somewhat feminine, and at least it was perfectly manufactured resembling the craft of someone who knew his business. Smart people saw all those details in the desk and in its owner. Less smart ones saw a big ass really expensive and massive table but those people rarely got the chance to talk to Gemma in person anyway.

Gemma had rested her forehead on the cool surface of the table. She was furious with herself and had a hard time to focus on work, all she could think of was Sherlock. `Mistake!´, was the one word her mind screamed at her with the occasional thought of: `Have that kind of sex again! Now!´

When they´d parted at the station on yesterday, they hadn´t agreed on nothing. And here Gemma was feeling like a teenager questioning all her life choices asking herself if she could be someone else doing something else.

"I need to get some work done or I will go crazy." She told herself. There is crime in needs to get committed!

The heavy wooden door opened and closed with a low thud. The steps of a tall man were muffled by the rug as he walked towards the desk where Gemma didn´t bother to get her head up. She could identify nearly all of her employees by their step.

"Moran, what do you want?" She groaned and doing him the favor to raise her head and slump back in her chair instead. Moran was a tall man in his late thirties; he had brown longish hair and was wearing a perfectly tailored suit like always he looked perfect while Gemma looked like crap today. The suit covered his muscular lean body that Gemma knew all too well. He was her expert for sniping missions but he was also a cold and calculating businessman. Those abilities made him Gemma´s second in command and her advisor. He was perfectly loyal and always had her back no matter what. No matter what she did. Even if she chose to screw her number one enemy; he still booked her train ticket. No matter his own feelings.

"Moriarty could you please consider to go back to work? We have a lot to do. And could you please stop behaving like a hormone-controlled teenager?"

"Fuck yourself!" Moran sighed putting a cup of coffee on Gemma´s desk next to the coaster because he knew how much she hated it. She raised an eyebrow in response and put the mug on the coaster.

"Alright, alright I will take care of our special client right now." Gemma sighed heavily again and started to sort through the papers on her desk when she didn´t hear Moran leaving she looked up again. "Something else?"

Moran frowned opened his mouth as if to say something but instead shook his head with a small smile and turned to leave the office.

Her special client was something like an old friend from the old days when she still worked in the drug business herself. Friend was an odd term for someone who might kill you if the chances were lucky. But she owed him a favor and there was a new drug lord in the city building up a network without police notice yet. Gemma preferred to work with the wolves she knew rather than have to deal with someone new. It was easy enough: set up a murder case that will certainly attract police attention and more important media´s attention and let all the leads direct them in one direction: the new drug lord in town they didn´t even know of before. End his business before it will get too big and become a potential threat to her customers or herself. During the day Gemma sat everything up made a few calls called in some favors and bribed some policemen and managed to deal with some minor business as well.

The next morning the dead body of a junky will be found with evidence pointing in only one direction.

The next morning a fresh wind blew through the streets and Gemma pulled the beige trench coat close around her body. The sun was already out and shining cool strays through the small puffy clouds. Cheerful Gemma walked by the crime scene where a group of bystanders had already gathered shielded away from the alley by policemen and yellow tape. Gemma put on her big Chanel shades and pushed herself through to have a better look at her handy work. She stopped midmovement when she saw a familiar form kneeling next to the body. Sherlock had been called in for something trivial like that? John was standing close by with DI Lestrade.

Sherlock took in the crime scene kneeled down and got up again walking down the alley looking in the dumpster where the weapon was found. He turned around and watched the body again walked back and stopped by Lestrade and John.

"This is some kind of set-up." He stated.

"What? Sherlock are you serious? The evidence point to a new drug lord in town! We didn´t even know of before and you telling me he isn´t guilty?" Lestrade seemed honestly confused.

"Yes." Sherlock replied his gaze wandered over John and to the group of bystanders behind, he´d the feeling someone was watching him. "Someone set this up to let us think that this man is responsible, but why?" His moth still open to say some more but stopped dead when he saw the silhouette of a small woman with big shades smiling at him, she pulled her shades down a little bit that Sherlock could see her sparkling dark eyes. She winked at him before she quickly turned to leave and vanished in the crowd to the left.

"Sherlock?" John turned to follow his stare.

"I´ve got to go. I´ll talk to you later." And with that Sherlock turned into the alley already knowing the fastest way to cut Gemma´s route before she could get away. He sprinted down the alley and turned around a corner leaving John and Lestrade to stare after him.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade shouted frustration obvious in his voice.

Gemma hadn´t considered that Sherlock would be involved in this and it made her life a lot more complicated right now. She walked with long strides down the street when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her inside another alley. It happened so quickly that Gemma realized what was happening when Sherlock slammed her against the wall holding her shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed, the line of his jaw was set tight and his eyes gleamed with fury.

"Working." Gemma stated calmly and tried to push him off but he wouldn´t let her.

"You did this! You set this up!"

"I just pointed the police in the general direction of a new drug lord rising in the city." She tried to shrug but the pressure of Sherlock´s hands on her shoulder made the movement awkward. "Just doing my duty as a good citizen."

"Don´t make me think you did this out of the generosity of your heart!" Sherlock spat the words leaning closer.

"No. I need him gone, Sherlock. And that is the easiest way to do so. I didn´t consider you to get involved." They stared at each other for several seconds the question obvious between them in the tension of their bodies. Instead of talking Sherlock started to work the buttons on Gemma´s trench coat open.

"Really you gonna fuck me in a dirty alley like some cheap whore?" Sherlock gave her a strange smile. She was so angry but he pushed his lips on hers to shut her up kissing her harshly channeling his anger in the kiss. His mouth forced her lips apart and their teeths collided nonetheless the kiss made her head spin and her arms hung useless at her sides. Why did he must have this effect on her? She felt like the nerdy girl being kissed by the coolest guy of the whole school behind the lockers. The brush of his fingers over the side of her thigh made her lift her leg to fit it around him. His whole length was pressed against her body while her back protested from being pushed against the uneven brick wall. He was always efficient no matter what he did even if it was taking her apart. She moaned into the kiss helplessly pushing her hips against him where she could feel him already hard. Now he slowly moved his hand up her thigh with firm pressure under the seam of her skirt up to her hip until he found the material of her lace panty. Slime fingers curled around the fabric on the side and with one strong movement he ripped them apart letting the rest of the expensive underwear drop to the concrete. Gemma whimpered squeezing her eyes shut while his other hand pulled her crisp white blouse from her skirt and slid underneath to feel the warm skin. He broke the kiss leaning close to her ear his voice so deep it stirred in her guts:

"Quite a bad whore I got there letting me do all the work!"

A shiver ran down her spine but still she felt unable to move. Oh how she hated him and his too sexy voice and the way he could make her into a whimpering mess in a dirty alley behind some dumpsters.

"Now be an obedient little whore and open my belt so I can finally fuck you and get out of here!" He growled and Gemma made a strange sound that startled herself but she raised her trembling fingers between them and tried to open his belt but failed miserably because she couldn´t really see what she was doing. Sherlock´s lips traveled over the soft skin of her neck and bit down hard. Gemma had to bite her bottom lip but tried again to open the damn belt and this time she was successful. She opened his pants and her hand slid inside but Sherlock grabbed her wrist pinning it over her head and his voice hit every nerve-ending in her body setting her on fire:

"I don´t want a filthy whore to touch me!" So instead he pulled his cock out of his pants himself grabbing her thigh again and pushing in her. She cried out but her voice was muffled by Sherlock´s hand. There was nothing gentle about the sex it was more about anger and control but Gemma didn´t found it in her to mind right now. Sherlock fucked her effective and ruthless against the wall. The whole time he covered her mouth with his hand to muffle the sound she made but more because he could until he changed his mind and picked her up. Gemma obliged and wrapped her legs around his hips her arms holding onto his shoulders. Sherlock changed the position of his arms wrapping one around her lower back and one around her shoulder blades like he tried to protect her back from being hit against the wall repeatedly. He kissed her again and let his tongue lick her lips in a gentle way. Gemma opened her mouse willingly. It was a deep and passionate kiss and Gemma moaned into his mouth.

She came hard without warning making her whole body convulse, clenching tight around Sherlock´s hardness inside of her. It was enough to kick Sherlock over the edge too. They were both panting still holding onto each other.

A few minutes passed before Sherlock set Gemma down gently kissing her again all soft lips and caresses. Then he pulled some tissues from his coat pocket and startled Gemma by cleaning both of them up.

"Do you pay me now?" She asked cocky raising an eyebrow.

Sherlock chuckled.

"Sorry but I think you should pay me." He raised an eyebrow and smirked before he leant down and kissed her again.

"Do you care for some breakfast?"

"I´m not hungry."

"Oh come on, don´t give me that, let´s have breakfast."

Sherlock sighed but offered her his arm which she took and they walked back on the now crowded street.

Mycroft sat in his office starring on pictures on his desk shaking his head. One of his agents had just dropped some surveillance footage. He sighed heavily putting his head in his hand: "Oh Sherlock what have you done now?"

The pictures showed Sherlock holding a girl on his arm and the particular girl was Gemma Moriarty.