Rated M for sex here! I hope you like it. I know some people think this is OOC of Sherlock, but I think it's very close to IC. Thanks to the people who reviews - I love hearing from you! I've had some good reviews, and some good suggestions. I'm taking them ALL into account!

CHAPTER 6 - You Owe Me New Ones

His head was clouded, and it was all because of her. Sherlock had to get out of his system. The matching yellow lace bra and pants set had instantly made his body tightened more. Completely naked, flush against her with her under things on, he groaned and moved his head to bite her neck. There was no need for foreplay. Tabitha groaned, and Sherlock moved his hand to her nipple. He bit near her collar bone, make sure to leave a mark – revenge for toying with him, with his mind.

Tabitha yelped, and then mewed when she felt his tongue soothing the bite. Her bra was pulled off, and she vaguely noticed that he had torn it. He pulled at her nipple with his fingers, and moved his head to capture the other in his mouth. He pulled and pinched with one hand on one side, and nipped and licked with his mouth on the other. Tabitha shuttered, and Sherlock suddenly pulled back and picked her up just enough so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She gasped for air as his mouth returned to the other side of her neck and his hardness rubbed against the spot between her thighs.

"Sherlock..." Tabitha groaned, pressing against him. She wanted him inside her. She didn't even notice the bedroom door wide open anymore. Sherlock sure didn't care – he needed a release from this damn distraction, and he had time to get it done.

He kept one hand around her waist and slid the other down her stomach. He gripped her lace panties and pulled, ripping them off. He heard Tabitha gasp, and growled, leaning down to bite her neck again. Tabitha held onto him by his hair and pressed her body against his. Suddenly, his body heat was gone and her feet where on the ground. She blinked at him, her breathing crazy, and noticed that he was sliding on a condom. She opened her mouth, but he moved with lightning speed, capturing her mouth with his lips and tongue and even his teeth. Sherlock's arm was around her waist, her legs back around his, and he was pushing into her. She moaned and moved one hand to run it down his back, not paying attention as her nails scratch him. Sherlock gasped and pumped himself into her. Her back hit the wall with the force of his thrusts, and she whimpered. He thrust into her and she moved her hips to keep up with him.

"Sherlock!" she said, groaning his name again. Tabitha felt a hand slid down between them, with him still thrusting, and it found her clit. She bucked against him as he flicked it, making her body shudder in release. She cried out and he thrust a few more times, grunted as he buried his face into her neck, holding her tightly. He finished twitching after a few moments, and pulled himself away.

Tabitha's legs were weak, and she leaned back against the wall as he walked calmly, nakedly, toward the bathroom. He didn't even close the door as he threw the condom away and begun to clean up. As she heard the sink running, she moved to the bed and plopped down, laying on her back and looking up at the ceiling. Her body was hot and sweaty. Tabitha heard Sherlock dressing, and turned to watch him button and zip his pants up. As he pulled on his dress shirt, she rolled over to her side and propped her head up with her hand.

"I didn't know you had it in you." Sherlock didn't look at her as he tucked in his shirt. The sex with her late husband was incredible, sure, but it was nothing like this. With T.J., it had been romantic and sensual – with Sherlock it was all desperation and lust. She absentmindedly fingered the chain around her neck. Tabitha was sure it was just some form of stress relief for the consultant detective, and she was honestly just fine with that. She was physically attracted to him, and that was all it could be with him. Especially when she was not even from this universe.

"John will be home in a few moments," he commented, as he walked across the room to grab the jacket he had flung away earlier. He didn't even look at her as he walked out of the open door. She sighed, and laid back for a few more moments. She heard the front door open and close, and rushed to close Sherlock's bedroom door. As she heard John and Sherlock murmuring in the living area, she pulled on her running shorts and tank top – without her lace underthings.

Using Sherlock's bathroom to clean up, she washed her face and ran a clean washcloth over her body. She tossed it in the laundry pile of Sherlock's, and picked up her torn, expensive, matching set. Not really caring what John would think, she opened the bedroom door and made her way to the where her current roommates were. She held both her bra and panties in one hand as she walked in to find John and Sherlock setting in their respective chairs. Sherlock was in his usual thinking position, and John was looking through a newspaper.

"You owe me new ones," Tabitha said sternly, holding up the set. John glanced and looked away, only to whip his face around to fully look at what was in her hand.

"Hm," Sherlock grunted.

"Are those – are those….?" John stuttered, looking back and forth between Tabitha and Sherlock. Sherlock let out an irritated sigh and glanced at his best friend.

"Yes, those are pieces of lingerie. Is there a reason why I owe you new ones?" Sherlock commented glancing in Tabitha's direction and turning back to stare at the wall.

"You shredded them. I can't wear them anymore." Tabitha sat them on the side table in front of the two men. John stared at them, confusion and surprise on his face. It was almost comical if Tabitha hadn't been upset about her favorite set being ruined.

"Oh? Pity, I rather like them on you," Sherlock murmured. "Take my card and buy three sets."

"How did you… oh. Oh!" John sat back in stunned silence as it finally clicked. "I... I didn't know you… you did that…"

"Sex? Only when it's too much of a distraction, which is very rare. My physical attraction to Tabitha has proven to be a distraction, therefore the only way to get rid of it is to satisfy my physical needs," Sherlock mumbled, already seeming bored with the conversation. John looked to Tabitha and she shrugged at him.

"Hey, I get laid, it works," she quipped with a chuckle. Sherlock smirked.

"Wow. Okay. Wow. I'm… I'm going to make some tea," John said. It seemed he was still in shock. Tabitha picked up the yellow lace and stood in front of Sherlock with her hands on her hips.

"I suppose I should expect to be on call with my body every now and then," she commented sarcastically, although the thrill of that kind of rough and desperate sex with Sherlock seemed completely fine with her.

"Unfortunately, your body arouses me more often than I would like it to. Yes, 'on call' is a good phrase to use."

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The Doctor had spent the last hour fumbling with everything on the console. The information that he had gathered was all over the place – one said this woman was in a different dimension, the other said a different time, the other one said a different planet, and still another said that she had been erased from history. He mumbled under his breath as he turned a knob and spun around to smack the screen with his hand.

"What really happened?!" he cried out to the TARDIS. The screen flashed, showing white noise for a moment, and then a picture came up. It was a cluttered flat, and a woman was waving a set of yellow undergarments at two men. One was tall, pale, and dark-haired, while the other was short, a bit tan, and light-haired. The Doctor blinked a moment – he knew who they were. He huffed and fell into the chair near the console.

"You sent her inside a television show?" he asked. The TARDIS whirred an answer, sounding almost gleeful.

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Sherlock was in a better mood than he'd been in for the last week. Now that those unimportant urges were out of his way, his mind was clear and he was ready to work. Unfortunately, this was one of the few times that there were no cases for him. Lestrade didn't have anything for him, and the investigation on Tabitha was stone cold. There was nothing on her, though he supposed that he could take that particular case to keep him occupied. Where was she from and why was she here? It had been a little over a week since she stumbled into their laps.

"Tabitha!" he called out, keeping his eyes on the wall in front of him.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up from her spot on the couch. She was lounging with a book in her hand. Sherlock took a moment to study her – she liked the book, and there was a hint of irritation at him interrupting her. He didn't care, though.

"Do you still think you're in another 'universe'?" he asked, his brow furrowed. Maybe something in her mind had changed.

"Yep," she answered, putting her nose back in her book. "John left about two hours ago, by the way."

"Why haven't you gone back, then?" He hadn't realized John was gone, but that was not unusual.

"Maybe I've been sent here to drive you mad with my body," she quipped. Sherlock grunted, taking note of her sarcasm and rolling his eyes. "I have no idea. Do you believe in fate?"

"Obviously not," he answered. "There is no such thing."

"And we all thought it was impossible to be sucked into a television show, hm?"

"I still am not convinced that's what happened."

"Maybe. What clues do you have against it?" Sherlock was silent for a moment, going through the facts in his mind quickly. She laughed at him, going back to her book. "See?"

"There are better answers to our problems than you magically popping into a television series," Sherlock huffed, standing up and pacing. His dressing gown flew around as he stomped back and forth. Tabitha didn't seem to be bothered by it. Sherlock sighed and headed over to his office to look into some experiments that were in progress.

"Let me know when you have those answers!" she teased from the living room. He ignored her.

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Tabitha decided to head out to explore after annoying Sherlock for a bit. She had thrown on some jeans, trainers, and a white button-up t-shirt. Making sure she had the wedding wing on a necklace, she headed toward the door. She threw on her new black leather jacket and stuck her wallet in her pants. John was just coming in as she was going out.

"No case," she warned as she started to walk down the sidewalk.

"Bloody hell," John murmured, not seeming to look forward to his friend in their apartment. John cursed under his breath as he went up the stairs. Tabitha couldn't help but grin – she was still in owe of the odd couple. They were just as they were on television – which was rather creepy if you think about. Tabitha started to walk aimlessly – she would just hail a taxi to get back to the apartment. What if she was on the next season of Sherlock?

She made a face and shuddered at the thought. She was definitely not 'television series' type of girl. She was rather plain and boring. She thought about earlier that morning when Sherlock had jumped her, and grinned. That was pretty damn awesome. He was definitely not asexual OR into men as some fans may think, at least only men. He knew what he was doing when it came to sex.

Tabitha kept a smile on her face as she strolled along. She noticed a black limo trailing behind her, and sighed. Mycroft was finally taking the time out to have a face to face conversation. She stopped without being told, and crossed her arms over her chest. Leaning against the wall of the building next to her, she waited for the limo to slow to a stop. As soon as a woman opened the door, though, she realized it was not Mycroft that was contacting her. She raised an eyebrow as the woman pulled herself out and gestured for her to get in. It was not Mycroft's secretary, but rather another certain person's secretary…. Of sorts. Tabitha nodded and slid in, followed by the woman. The door shut and the car took off.

"Miss Adler is keeping an eye on Sherlock it seems," Tabitha stated, looking out of the window.