Girl is on my mind

They woke up tangled together, legs intertwined and wrapped in an embrace. Sherlock aroused from his sleep blinking at the brightness of the sunlight, sitting up against the headboard; removing his arms from around Irene's body, he watched her curl closer to the covers, feeling his heat leave her. He was scared for her and her future, he didn't know where she would go all this, in a way he felt that he wanted to care for her. He dismissed the idea immediately.

She cared for him, so much, it was obvious for all to see. Now that their original game was over he gathered that she felt that there was no point in hiding it. He couldn't even begin to understand how much the nightmare had affected her, it frightened her out of her wits. It seemed that the thing she was most afraid of was losing him, a weakness that could possibly leave her in great danger. Her vulnerability didn't last for long of course, switching back to her mask as soon as was possible. She didn't want to be a open book.

One thing that annoyed him the most was how she dared to kiss him, even if it was brief; the idea of intimacy made him squirm and especially with the reaction she had caused, even if she didn't notice his confusion and deductions throughout the night.

She turned to face him as she awoke, a small smile plastered on her face, 'Good morning Sherlock.' she sat up moving closer to him, she used his first name, she was clearly a lot more comfortable with him than previously. He was uncomfortable, especially as he planned to ask the question he had been contemplating since last night. 'Why, did you kiss me?'

She smirked; making eye contact, 'Because I couldn't help myself.' she replied playfully winking at him. Sherlock grimaced, 'It must never happen again.' he said overly seriously. 'Says the man who held me in his arms all night.' she propped herself up on her elbow, her tone teasing.

A sudden feeling of anger washed through him as he spontaneously pinned her down, leaning over her; proving his dominance. She let out a sigh of surprise as she hit the bed, she admired his cheekbones and pale porcelain skin as he talked huskily to her, almost whispering into her ear. 'As much as you would like to think it Miss Adler, I do not have...feelings for you.' he said through gritted teeth.

She let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, 'And yet you've just pinned me down on your bed. Sherlock, your actions are not matching your words.' she whispered in his ear then moving to kiss him on the cheek, he remained silent, 'Mr. Holmes. Lets have dinner.' she continued lustfully, leaning in to kiss him on the lips with the hope that maybe this time he would accept, her eyes fluttered close.

He rolled off of the bed and took large strides into the bathroom, firmly locking the door behind him. Leaving Irene alone in bed. He put his head in his hands taking a deep breath before turning on the tap to splash his face with water. She was right, he couldn't explain his actions and he lied to her. He was certain that he had feelings for her, slightly romantic ones, he admired her, but nothing more, he convinced himself, nothing...sexual.

He had said once that sex didn't alarm him, but that was simply not true. He was a virgin, so obviously hadn't had the experience before but even the idea of it felt so foreign to him. Irene was comfortable in those kinds of situations, clearly.

This was ridiculous, she was getting into his mind, before confronting her again he took a deep breath attempting to unwind from these tangled thoughts of his. He needed to ignore any...urges, their game was becoming dangerous; for both parties alike.

When he re entered he found her searching through the wardrobe to find something to wear, but she was only wearing minimal amounts of underwear (purposely.) causing him to almost stumble when he saw her. He blushed, not wanting to look her in the eye.

'Something the matter Mr. Holmes?' she asked him watching his expression turn to one or rare shyness. 'Not at all.' He huffed. Her efforts to catch his attention were not at all aiding his pledge to keep clear of any emotional situations with the woman involved.

Sherlock cleared his throat before making his statement, 'Irene, I highly recommend that you cease your attempts at a relationship with me.' The words felt like a stab in the heart. She held back any signs of sadness, 'Who says I want a relationship with you?' She asked, craving a satisfying reply or maybe none at all, she didn't want what he was saying to be true or even him to have that opinion of their partnership. She received his deductions instead.

'From the first day we met you've been flirting with me, I have knowledge and proof of what I incite in you; a quickened pulse and dilated pupils. When we destroyed the crime web you tended to leave your emotions on your sleeve, letting them get the better of you. Your attempts at seducing me continued until the very end when we went our separate ways.' He moved closer to her, seeming to dominate with his towering height. She seemed so small and innocent, as her emotions changed significantly in those few seconds from her trademark boldness to a normally hidden timidness.

'You turn up in my flat, revive your endeavours once again, try to make me jealous several times, then wake up crying from a nightmare in which I died. You are clearly in love with me.' He watched her shocked and bemused expression, finishing his point, 'I think that that is enough to be going on don't you?'

She came closer; staring at him with dagger eyes. How dare he insinuate something like that, she didn't love him! In fact in that moment she loathed him and every word that fell from his mouth. All those things were meaningless, if she really did love him he would be hers by now, which was most defiantly not the case. Sherlock began to slightly regret what he had just said, but it didn't show. His expression remained as solid as stone, his eyes daring to keep contact with hers.

Unexpectedly he felt Irene's hand meet his cheek, hard. Since their first meeting she had never been violent towards him, any little squabbles they had would be carried out with words not with brute force. Sherlock bit his lip fighting back the pain, Irene turned around and immediately finished off getting dressed.

It was only when she grabbed her room key did the jarred Sherlock make any attempt to stop her in a very unlike himself way; trying to hug her in an apologetical fashion, not knowing what else he should do. Though he didn't see what he had done wrong; he felt guilty now watching her reaction, but he saw no wrong in the truth.

'Irene, don't, please.' he said desperately. Still furious and embarrassed she wrenched his arms from around her, leaving the room uncomfortably silent for the detective.

She stormed down the stairway too hastily for Sherlock to follow. Did he just think that she would come running back to him after he implied something like that? Either that or he was completely clueless, she suspected the latter. She slowed her pace as she walked through the last of the hallways to reach the continental breakfast buffet which was bustling with a mass of people. She sat down at a table for two alone before getting her own breakfast.

Sherlock had really thrown himself into this one, he needed her partnership and he didn't want to hurt her in anyway but his ways had gotten the better of him, he needed to make it up to her somehow.

He steepled his fingers as he thought, he slouched on one of the twin armchairs allowing himself to think those sentimental thoughts that he hadn't permitted to himself in a long time. It was a few minutes later when staring into the distance of the Italian summer scenery did an idea struck him, so demonstrative that it shocked him.

He immediately stood up to go to the bathroom, taking a shower before dressing himself in a navy blue shirt and a dark grey suit. He hastily collected his phone and wallet then exited their room, locking the door behind him.

Downstairs he was careful to avoid the hotel's dining room in order to keep out of Irene's way, he didn't want to make her suspicious of what he was doing, it would only end badly. Sherlock managed to slip out of the entrance without being noticed, squinting at the bright sunlight which he was greeted with. Walking down the streets knowing just where to go.

Viareggio.