Author's note: This story contains an adult male spanking an adult female, so if that is not your thing, please pass this one by.
Eleanor was annoyed. No, she was more than annoyed, she was positively aggravated. It was not the first time she had seen Sherlock get lost in a case. It came with the territory being married to a world famous detective, but it was the first time Eleanor had felt like Sherlock had almost completely forgotten about her. Even when he would kiss her in the morning, Eleanor felt like his mind was somewhere else.
What had really worked Eleanor into a lather, however, is when she came home late one day from shopping. She had told Sherlock she would be home by 4 o'clock, but had gotten so caught up in looking at all the items in the market that before she realized it, it was thirty minutes past four. Eleanor had rushed home, expecting Sherlock to be furious. Eleanor certainly expected Sherlock to punish her for her unexcused tardiness. When Eleanor arrived at 221B Baker Street, she expected to see Sherlock pacing back and forth outside, and when he was not there, Eleanor thought he may be just inside the door, with a look on his face that could turn Eleanor's insides to pudding. However, Sherlock was not there either. Instead Eleanor found Sherlock exactly where she had left him: in his study, engrossed in his latest case, with bits of paper with writing on them lying around that clearly meant something to Sherlock, but meant nothing to Eleanor.
"I'm home, Sherlock," Eleanor said tentatively, wondering if it would be now that her brilliant detective does-not-miss-a-single-detail husband would realize how late she was.
However, all Sherlock said was, "Hello, Ellie", before returning to studying the bits of paper.
Eleanor's heart sank a bit. Sherlock had called her "Ellie", and when she was in trouble he always used her full first name (and usually her middle and last name as well), so clearly he had not realized how late she was. Eleanor realized she should be grateful that she was not getting punished, but it made her feel sad that Sherlock no longer seemed to care for her the way he used to. Eleanor still clearly remembered the firm punishment she had received on their honeymoon for being late and causing Sherlock to worry. They were staying at a cottage in a small English seaside town. Eleanor had wanted to walk along the beach and collect seashells, but Sherlock wanted to stay inside and read. Eleanor said she would go walk along the beach on her own, but Sherlock was concerned because Eleanor did not know how to swim. Eleanor promised she would be careful and stay away from the water. Eleanor had told Sherlock that she would return at 12 o' clock so they could have lunch, and Sherlock had reluctantly agreed.
However, Eleanor had become so fascinated by all the beautiful shells she was finding that she lost track of the time, and had wandered much closer to the water than she had meant to. It was not until she saw her new husband striding towards her with his jaw set that Eleanor realized she must have lost track of the time. "Eleanor Cora Holmes, it is ten past twelve!"
"I'm sorry," Eleanor said, "I forgot about the time!"
"You also quite clearly forgot to stay away from the water," Sherlock added in a deadly tone.
Sherlock took Eleanor's arm and led her back to the cottage. Eleanor practically had to run to keep up with her husband's long strides.
When they got into the cottage, Sherlock sat down on the edge of the bed, and without preamble, turned Eleanor over his lap. He then flipped up her skirts and pulled down her undergarments.
"You broke your promise, Eleanor: you did not come back when you said you would, and you went dangerously close to the water. I thought you may have fallen into the sea."
The concern in Sherlock's voice made Eleanor feel horrendously guilty, but also happy at the same time because Eleanor knew how much her husband loved her.
"I really am very sorry, Sherlock, I won't do it again," Eleanor said, as she stared at the cottage floor and felt tears start to form.
"I am going to make sure of it," Sherlock replied tersely.
Sherlock then proceeded to apply his hard right hand harshly to Eleanor's backside and thighs. After Eleanor had been spanked to tears, Sherlock had sat Eleanor up on his lap and held her until her tears had stopped. He then placed her in the corner with her hands on her head, with a stern admonishment to think about the rules she had agreed to before marrying him, and what he had told her the consequences would be if she broke them. Sherlock also warned Eleanor that if she rubbed her bottom or fidgeted while she was in the corner, he would put her back over his knee that night at bedtime.
Once Sherlock had summoned Eleanor out of the corner, Eleanor saw that Sherlock had stacked the bed pillows at the edge of the bed, and Sherlock instructed Eleanor to bend over them. Eleanor had felt a bit dizzy as she realized she was about to get her first dose of Sherlock's cane. In hindsight Eleanor knew that the thrashing she received that day was not nearly as unpleasant as it could have been: Eleanor would receive more severe thrashings from Sherlock's cane later on. However, that day, receiving the first ever stroke from Sherlock's cane made Eleanor wail like the world itself was coming to an end.
Now Sherlock did not even seem to notice that Eleanor was late. That night, while lying in bed alone because Sherlock had still not left his study, Eleanor concocted a plan. She and Sherlock had been married several years now, and she knew exactly how to get a rise out of him. While Eleanor did not want to do something that would earn her strokes from Sherlock's cane, or licks from his equally awful razor strop, Eleanor missed the feeling of being bent over her husband's knee while he applied his large, firm hand to her bare bottom.
Eleanor started off small: bothering Sherlock while he worked. Eleanor thought of a million silly, unimportant questions to ask him while was trying to focus on solving the case. However, Eleanor did not so much as get a raised eyebrow from Sherlock. Instead, Sherlock would just quickly murmur some answer before returning to his work. It did not take Eleanor long to realize she was annoying herself more than she was annoying Sherlock, so she decided to up the ante.
The next day at tea time, Eleanor walked into Sherlock's study with her arms purposefully over filled with plates of food and two overly full cups of tea. Eleanor momentarily had a sense of hope when Sherlock looked at her and cautioned her to "be careful", but that hope was quickly dashed when Eleanor not quite intentionally but mostly on purpose spilled one of the cups of tea on Sherlock's coat. However, Sherlock just took his handkerchief and blotted at the spill, and made a comment about how it would wash out. Eleanor wanted to scream.
Eleanor's next course of action was decidedly more risky. Eleanor knew it could very likely earn her a dose of the cane, or even the strop. However, given that actions that would have previously earned her a trip over Sherlock's knee did not earn her so much as a raised eyebrow, Eleanor thought that perhaps actions that would have previously earned her a dose of the cane or the strop would only earn her a trip over Sherlock's knee. Therefore, Eleanor decided to leave a lit candle out and unattended, teetering dangerously close to the edge of the table Eleanor had placed it on. Eleanor hid for what felt like ages, but she felt giddy when she watched from her hiding place as Sherlock finally walked by and noticed the lit candle. However, all he said was, "Hmm, odd", before putting the candle out and pushing it further back on the table.
Lying in bed that night, Eleanor realized her plan was not working, so she formulated a new one: she would help Sherlock solve this case, and then maybe things would go back to normal. Eleanor wished she could enlist Enola, Sherlock's sister, to help her with this, but Eleanor knew Enola was preoccupied with her own case. Eleanor also knew that Sherlock would not let Eleanor help with his cases, in fact he had expressly forbidden it, as it could cause her to be in danger. (Eleanor's argument that she should get to work on cases just like Enola did was not an argument Eleanor had won, and Eleanor had been forced to admit that perhaps Enola had skills Eleanor did not). Eleanor knew if she was going to help Sherlock, it had to be without him knowing, but if she helped him solve the case, surely once he found out he would be too grateful to be cross with Eleanor, and perhaps he would even let her help with his cases in the future! This line of reasoning seemed perfectly sensible to Eleanor.
Therefore, as soon as Sherlock had finally collapsed into bed that night, Eleanor had snuck into Sherlock's study to see what she could find. Most of the writings on the bits of paper were indecipherable to Eleanor, but she found one paper that had the name of a store on it, Alfred's Dress Shop. The address was also written down on the same paper. Eleanor quickly decided that she needed to go to the shop right away and look around.
Eleanor had never picked a lock before, but she had eavesdropped often enough on Sherlock and Enola discussing it that Eleanor felt fairly confident that she could do it. If you asked Sherlock, he would probably say that Eleanor feeling "fairly confident" about something is what often got her into the most trouble.
Eleanor got dressed as quietly as possible so as not to waken Sherlock, grabbed the needed tools, and headed for the shop. Eleanor was able to pick the lock, just as she thought she could. However, what she had not accounted for was the shopkeeper, who lived right above his shop, and had woken up in the night for a glass of water, only to look down from his window and see a young woman, illuminated by the dim streetlights, breaking into his shop. The police were promptly summoned, and as soon as they realized who they had apprehended, Inspector Lestrade was quickly beckoned.
This is how Eleanor came to be at the police station with Lestrade, who was currently making it clear to Eleanor this was not his first choice of how to spend the evening, "I was having quite a pleasant dream until I was woken up with a constable pounding on my door and telling me about your thieving. I'll be exhausted tomorrow! Why do you Holmes's do this to me? It's bad enough that your husband and sister-in-law seem intent on making my life more difficult, and I don't need another one of you doing the same!"
However, Eleanor was barely listening to Lestrade's complaints, and she did not take them that seriously anyway. She had seen Lestrade look at Enola with admiration, and the way he looked at Sherlock, well it was more than admiration, but Eleanor could not quite put her finger on it.
Eleanor could not be bothered with Lestrade at the moment anyhow. If Eleanor had found herself in this circumstance at any other time, she would have felt dread knowing how much trouble she would be in with Sherlock, and she likely would have pleaded with Lestrade to put her in a cell rather than hand her over to her husband. However, Eleanor was currently too aggravated with Sherlock to be concerned about how he would react. Eleanor even doubted he would care at all, as she had convinced herself that all Sherlock cared about was his case. Eleanor was quite certain that Sherlock could not even be bothered to come and fetch her, and she was just about to tell Lestrade that he may as well put her in a cell when Sherlock came striding into the police station, cane in hand.
"It's about time," Lestrade said in an annoyed tone of voice, but Sherlock silenced him with a look.
The look on Sherlock's face was one Eleanor knew well, and typically it would have meant Eleanor was much more careful with her words and tone, but the last few weeks had been anything but typical.
"Explain yourself, Eleanor," Sherlock said in a deadly tone.
"Me?!" Eleanor said incredulously, "You explain yourself, Sherlock! You've been completely lost in your case! You have almost completely ignored me these past few weeks, and it did not seem like you cared about me at all anymore! Nothing I've tried has gotten a rise out of you!"
At Eleanor's last sentence, Sherlock's eyes darkened, and his jaw became even more taut.
Eleanor realized she had said too much, and the sense of dread that had been missing from Eleanor's conscience before now suddenly washed over her like a tidal wave.
"So that's what you were trying to do, Eleanor, get a rise out of me?" Sherlock asked grimly, "Is that what this ill advised adventure was about tonight?"
Eleanor shook her head "no" forcefully. "No Sherlock, I promise it was not! When I realized I was going about things the wrong way, I thought instead I could help you solve the case, so we could get back to how things were before. I saw the name of the shop and the address on a piece of paper in your study."
"And you decided to play detective," Sherlock said through gritted teeth.
Eleanor was not sure how to respond to that, and thought a response might get her in even more trouble, so she kept quiet.
Sherlock sighed deeply and unclenched his jaw. "I knew you had been trying to get a rise out of me, Eleanor, and you're right that I have been consumed with this case, but that is why I did not want to spend what limited time I had with you punishing you."
"Oh no," Eleanor thought to herself; she had not thought of that, and now she felt rather guilty.
"I am sorry that I neglected you these last few weeks," Sherlock continued, "But you need to know that I care about you, and I always will. I love you. You and Enola are the two most important people in the world to me."
Eleanor was relieved to hear this, and realized she may have let her mind run a bit (well, a lot) amuck.
"Why didn't you tell me you were feeling like this, Eleanor? We agreed before we got married you would tell me if you felt I was too lost in a case and not giving you the attention you needed."
"I don't know," Eleanor admitted, "It's just that you are such a brilliant detective, I guess sometimes I think you should just be able to figure out what I need without me having to tell you."
"Well sometimes I can, but as brilliant a detective as I am, Eleanor, I am not a mind reader," Sherlock said.
"I know. I am sorry." Eleanor conceded.
"I am sorry too," Sherlock said, but then his tone darkened once more and his jaw once again became taut, "but back to the subject of what happened tonight…"
"I was just trying to help!" Eleanor protested.
"You know you are not allowed to get involved in my cases," Sherlock said in a stern tone, "You left the house in the middle of the night, which was dangerous enough, but then you broke into a shop and caused the police to be summoned! You're fortunate they informed Lestrade!"
Eleanor was not sure how "fortunate" she felt as she was being lectured by her very angry husband, but she felt it best to keep this opinion to herself.
Eleanor had already explained that she had just been trying to help Sherlock, which was an explanation he did not seem too impressed with, and because Eleanor was all out of explanations, all she could think to do was try distraction.
"Do you know how the shopkeeper is involved in the case?" Eleanor asked.
"He was being set up," Sherlock replied impatiently, "The evidence pointing to him was a red herring. It was all concocted by Francesca Dubois. She runs a competing dress shop, and it seems she was trying to put him out of business by framing him for murder."
"Francesca's Dress Shop?" Eleanor exclaimed, "That is where I buy all my dresses!"
"Well, you will need to find another store, as I highly doubt Francesca's will remain open when Francesca goes to prison, and I very much doubt you will be welcomed back at Alfred Gregorio's shop after what occurred tonight."
"Well, it's wonderful that you solved the case!" Eleanor said in an attempt to make the night appear somehow fortunate, but the look Sherlock gave her told her he found nothing fortunate about the events of this evening.
"I knew I had almost solved it when I went to bed last night," Sherlock said to Lestrade, "but as I was on my way here the final pieces finally came together in my mind."
Eleanor fought the overwhelming urge to point out that, in a way, it seemed she had helped Sherlock solve his case after all, because the answer finally came to him when he was on his way to the police station to get Eleanor. If Eleanor had not broken into the dress shop, Sherlock would have still been asleep in bed, and his case would still be unsolved.
"Ah yes, I will make sure we arrest Francesca Dubois right away," Lestade said as he looked between Sherlock and Eleanor, not sure what to make of the events transpiring in front of him.
"I also persuaded Mr. Gregorio not to press charges," Lestrade added.
"Thank you, Lestrade," Sherlock said.
"Yes, thank you very much," Eleanor said, though by the look on Sherlock's face, Eleanor thought she would rather face criminal charges than whatever Sherlock had in mind for her.
"I did assure Mr. Gregorio that the matter would be addressed…" Lestrade said tentatively.
"Oh it most certainly will be," Sherlock said assertively, "Come along, Eleanor, we have some matters to attend to at home."
Eleanor knew exactly what Sherlock was implying, and while she had been hoping to be bent over Sherlock's knee while he applied his firm hand to her bottom, she knew her punishment would be much more harsh than that, and she wanted no part of it.
"I should not be punished, Sherlock! I was just trying to help!" Eleanor protested.
"You have a very peculiar way of trying to help, Eleanor. You are most definitely owed some punishment. Now go get in the carriage." Sherlock said calmly, but sternly.
Eleanor was not sure where her bravery/stupidity came from: maybe it was because it had been awhile since Sherlock had punished her, or maybe it was because they were standing in the police station with Lestrade, and surely Sherlock would not punish her right here, or maybe it was a combination of both, but Eleanor looked Sherlock in the eye and said firmly, "I will not!"
"Fine then, have it your way." Sherlock replied.
Before Eleanor could comprehend what was happening, Sherlock was standing next to her and had bent her over, pinning her to his side with his left arm.
Eleanor tried to struggle, but she was no match for her husband's strength, and Sherlock proceeded to toss up her skirts and pull down her undergarments before delivering three hard strokes of his cane to her backside.
As quickly as Sherlock had bent her over and exposed her, Sherlock stood Eleanor up and put her clothing back in place.
Eleanor's bottom burned, but her face burned even more. Eleanor could not believe that her husband had just punished her in the middle of the police station, in front of Lestrade no less! At least there was no one else about.
Eleanor wanted to call Sherlock all manner of awful names, but instead she burst into tears.
"Now, are you going to get in the carriage, or do I need to ask Lestrade if we can borrow his office so I can continue your chastisement here?" Sherlock asked Eleanor.
Eleanor's face burned even hotter than before, but even through the sound of her own crying she heard the odd choking sound that Lestrade had made when Sherlock had asked this question.
Eleanor could barely bring herself to look at Lestrade, but curiosity got the better of her. She was not sure what look she was expecting to see on Lestrade's face. Lechery perhaps? After all, Lestrade had just witnessed Sherlock bare Eleanor's behind and punish her with his cane. Or maybe pity? However, the look on Lestrade's face was not one that Eleanor could have predicted at all: it looked incredibly like jealousy. That did not make any sense to Eleanor though.
"Eleanor, if you do not answer me I am going to decide for you, and I can guarantee you will not like it."
Sherlock's words snapped Eleanor out of her confusion about Lestrade. "I will get in the carriage," Eleanor said quietly.
"That's the first good choice you've made this evening," Sherlock replied.
As Sherlock walked outside to summon the carriage, Lestrade turned to Eleanor and whispered, "You are a very lucky lady, Mrs. Holmes."
This made Eleanor even more certain that the look on Lestrade's face had been jealousy, but it did not help her make any better sense of it.
Sitting on the seat of the carriage was not a pleasant experience for Eleanor, but Sherlock seemed indifferent to her plight.
In an attempt to take her mind off her already painful backside and her impending punishment, Eleanor decided to ask Sherlock about Lestrade. She was completely baffled by his behavior.
When Eleanor told Sherlock what she had seen, Sherlock told her he had observed the same thing. When Eleanor told Sherlock what Lestrade had said to her about her being lucky, Sherlock nodded understandingly. Sherlock then looked at Eleanor with a glint in his eye, "Well now I know how to handle him the next time he tries to interfere with one of my investigations," he said in a joking tone.
Eleanor looked at Sherlock, still confused, "But Sherlock, he is a man."
"Yes," Sherlock said, "And some men feel the same way about men that women feel about men, and some women feel the same way about women that men feel about women."
"Oh," Eleanor said. She had not realized that was a possibility.
"I think it's best to let adults handle their relationships with other adults the way they want, assuming everyone involved is in agreement, and it is not harming anyone else," Sherlock said.
"Yes." Eleanor agreed.
Soon (too soon for Eleanor), the carriage pulled up to 221B Baker Street, and Eleanor forgot all about her confusion regarding Lestrade. All Eleanor could think about now was her impending punishment.
Author's Note: The next (and likely last) chapter will be Eleanor's punishment. Lestrade's feelings will also be explored a bit further.