Repens

She walked in and he was fidgeting with his violin, not playing a single note but nervously tampering with it. He sat by the window with his back towards her. It looked as if he was in a silk house robe but she couldn’t quite tell. John was still out on his date and would be back in a few hours but there was still plenty of time to visit with Sherlock. Just being in the room alone with him gave her an adrenaline rush even greater than being kidnapped. Stephanie took a silent deep breath as she closed the door after entering the room. She didn’t know what to expect from this little meeting.

“What name did you give that comical lot?” he asked, not bothering to turn around.

“I called them the comical lot,” she replied, wondering if she could make him laugh, smile, or show some sort of new emotion she hadn’t seen him express yet.

“You know what I meant,” he hissed, the light playing in his brown curls.

“You know what name I gave them. I believe they wrote you a letter.”

“Yes they did, not a very professional one at that.”

“Not surprised,” she sighed, amused at the very thought of the ridiculous band of idiots.

“I don’t suppose you were scared were you?” he asked, finally turning to face her.

He was in a navy house robe and matching silk pajama pants but he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His pale skin and muscular chest caught her off guard and made it difficult not to react or stare- he would notice anything. The violin and bow were placed in their usual spot by the window as he waited for her answer.

Doing her best to stay unreadable and appear emotionless, the woman finally replied. “No. I was nervous a few times when he got in my face but I knew they were merely doing the dirty work of someone much higher on the food chain. It seemed as if they were just doing the job to prove their worth, which was nothing in the end. They were a bunch of overgrown children showing off for someone.”

“I was hoping you would catch all of that,” he almost smiled. “What name did you give them?”

“We’ve already been over this,” she reminded him, trying not to sound flirty or ignorant.

“They only gave me a first name. Cassidy- that was quite clever of you. But what about the last name? I need to know if you gave them the name of someone who actually exists; if so, they need to be protected until the one behind all of this is found.”

She didn’t want to tell him and she knew she didn’t have to. It should have been so obvious to him- such a fan-girl thing to do but it had been done anyways.

“You already know what I told them.”

“I want to hear you say it,” he tested, putting her in a vulnerable situation.

“If you already know what I told them then you don’t need to hear me say it. You should already have your satisfaction. Or are you ever pleased? Do people have to be utterly exposed before you are content?”

She had called him out on it, making her all the more irresistible. Her nearly naked chest and tight pants were giving him ideas he hadn’t had since his college days. He had only come this close to acting on his emotions one other time and that was nothing compared to the effects she had on him. This young woman made Irene Adler seem like a little girl despite their age difference.

Slowly walking towards her, letting himself be pulled to her, he soothingly ordered, “Tell me.”

“No.”

Their eyes locked for a second time, much more intense than the first. He was only feet away from her, both hearts beginning to race. Her soft shining skin was driving him mad and she was feeling weaker at the knees with every step he took closer to her. Though he tried, he could not resist much longer and it was only a matter of time until he did something against his own steel will. The sensation was maddening, making him higher than cocaine and more focused than cigarettes. What was she doing to him? He was… feeling.

When they were toe to toe, he tilted his head down towards her without actually looking at her and repeated himself for the last time in her ear. “What last name did you give them, Steph?”

Steph. He had just called her Steph. Not only was that her correct name but the pet version, what her closest friends and family called her. If he was trying to hide his true thoughts of her, he was doing an incredibly poor job. She rose onto her tiptoes and leaned into him until her lips were at his ear.

“Jones,” she whispered as sensual as possible- just to see if he would do as she hoped.

“Liar,” he whispered in a low similar tone.

As soon as he said the word he put his large hands around her slender neck and suddenly claimed her mouth. The gesture was so unlike him but this was the way she made him feel. He wanted to play the role of the crazy lover with her. He wanted to show her a side of him no one else had ever seen. He wanted to be human just for her, with her. Keeping one hand at her neck, he moved the other down her lower back to pull her as close to him as possible.

Their bodies collided together as she grabbed his long brown curls and let out a soft moan. The kisses grew longer and more intense and neither expected the other to kiss so well, numbingly well. He couldn’t resist her gently sucking on his bottom lip and she loved the way his tongue danced in her mouth. Minutes flew by until she pulled away to stare into his pale blue eyes, making sure that this was real. They shared a brief moment, simply staring at eachother with wonder and urgency filling both sets of glossy eyes. Sherlock quickly started to remove his robe as Stephanie caressed his neck with long kisses that went from just beneath his ear to his collar bone.

“Colersh,” she whispered.

“What?” he asked, not catching what she said from the many new emotions and sensations flooding through his mind and body.

“Colersh,” she giggled into his neck. “Your name backwards without the K and the S and H switched.”

“Oh,” he slightly chuckled with a full smile as he threw the house robe onto the floor- prediction correct. A smug grin crossed over his lips.

“Mr. Holmes, are you actually smiling?” Steph teased, her hands moving to his naked chest.

“Me? Smile? Never!” he grinned, still staring down at her. His hips and torso began to sway against her.

Under her hand, she could feel his heart beating as fast as her own. Could he really be feeling all the same things she was? Was Sherlock Holmes truly capable of caring for someone, of falling in love? The thought of this being a cruel prank of some sort made her stomach ache. Her sudden stillness let him know something was going on in that pretty little head of hers. Instead of prying or saying something rude, he leaned in to kiss her neck while she thought- just as she had done too him. But she grabbed his face just before his lips found her skin and she forced his eyes to hers.

As if he was reading her thoughts, which he could by using her body language and facial expression, he asked, “Steph, how long has it been since you’ve really cared about someone?”

Not wanting to give him her brief dating history she simply answered, “It’s been a few years.” She paused. “How about you?”

“I was drawn to someone quite a while ago but it was never like this.” He paused fighting with himself about being overly honest with her. She made him want to be different, more… personal. “I’ve never been in love, Stephanie. And you are the first girl that has ever made me have to worry about falling.”

With a blush and a smile, she found it hard to look at him. He had just confessed something that she thought to mean a great deal. Sherlock Holmes had just told her that she was the first girl he ever thought about loving. With a new pulsing sensation that filled her entire body she pulled his face to hers and began kissing him again. She ran her hands up and down his pale chest- the girl was not making it easy for him to be a gentleman. Thoughts were filling his head that had never been there before. This was only their second night of knowing eachother. It was all happening so fast and he genuinely didn’t want to hurt her, he couldn’t hurt her without hating himself- another feeling he had never encountered. She was giving him all of these new emotions and urges that no one else had ever been able to make him feel before and that made him want her all the more.

Without thinking about it, he picked her up and carried her to his room without breaking a single kiss. Her small arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled at his hair the whole way down the hall. He closed the door behind him with his foot and gently put her on his bed. Those intent green eyes never left him for a moment. He knew that most men wanted to take an article of clothing off of the woman as soon as their own shirt was removed but he didn’t want to be like everyone else that wasted their first time on a whirlwind night of temporary emotions.

He crawled onto the bed and gently kissed Stephanie, the most gentle kisses yet. They sat on his bed sharing light tender kisses until he slowly grabbed her hands. He had never held hands with anyone before, except for John when they were handcuffed together running around London but that was a bit different. All of a sudden, he realized why men and women held hands in the romantic way he had always ostracized. Feeling her small fingers entwine with his, he took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. I don’t want you to do this because of who I am or because of the way you feel this precise moment,” he spoke softly.

“This isn’t my first shag,” she whispered confidently.

“But it’s mine,” he confessed.

Stephanie kept the volcanic gasp from coming out but her expression was more challenging to hide. She was completely surprised and took note not to tease or say anything cruel to him. Though she couldn’t believe it, she understood some of it in its simplest form. He had never let anyone in his heart in a romantic way; that was completely obvious. She wondered if some foolish girl had broken his heart or if he had always been too busy with other things to occupy his thoughts. He was a complex creature and no one could deny that. But there was so much she wanted to ask and knew she couldn’t.

After a few silent moments of deep thought and wrestling with her conscience, Steph kissed him softly once more. Their eyes met and she began, “I don’t want to take that from you. At least not tonight. We’ve only just met and I really think we might have something here. I’m rarely drawn to anyone and I’m sure you are the same way. We are both terribly picky and extremely difficult in every way. But we are dreamers hidden underneath the most believable performances the world has ever seen. We each act so strong when in reality we are just as lonely as the next person, if not more so. The only difference between them and us is that we’ve almost tricked ourselves into not wanting anyone- entirely false contentment. We’re good liars, Sherlock.”

He stared at her and let her words soak in before he spoke. “Stephanie Thomas, you are the most extraordinary thing I have ever crossed paths with. You’re only going to sleep in my bed tonight but our little journey is not over, not by a longshot. I want to see this through- be it a horrible mistake or the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

They kissed and caressed for a while longer before she reminded him of his next big case. The sun would be peeking over the horizon soon and they both needed rest. Sherlock pulled her nearly naked body close to his and gently traced the outline of her torso and hips. She sleepily kissed his neck once more and dozed off in his embrace.

“I didn’t believe genuine attraction between two people was still possible. Thank you, my angel. Thank you for proving me wrong.”

He grinned, gave her the slightest of squeezes, and then fell into the most pleasant sleep he had ever known. It was the first time he had ever held a woman much less in his bed. It was his first time sleeping with a woman in his arms. And he never wanted to let go.