Fixated

8.

This time I hadn’t passed out straight after Sherlock had his way with me. It was an achievement after the amount of energy I’d just exerted, the endorphins and sheer adrenaline kept me awake though. Almost half an hour had passed and we weren’t showing any signs of moving from the bed. I would never have thought Sherlock had an affectionate bone in his body. The closest thing to affection I’d ever seen him display was towards John; no wonder all of John’s girlfriends always had a complex.

After a period of comfortable silence I broke it by nonchalantly saying, "You're not inexperienced at all, are you?"
"No, quite the opposite it would seem." He flashed me a cheeky half-smirk that could make any woman weak at the knees.
"Mr Sherlock Holmes, I’ve always thought you were a lot of things but a womanizer was definitely not one of them." We both laughed; he continued running his fingertips up and down the length of my bare midriff.
"I personally wouldn't go as far as 'womanizer' but I do know a thing or two about how to please one of these 'woman' creatures that are apparently so foreign to me."
"I can vouch for that." I said. He gently kissed me on the mouth.

Suddenly there was a sombre vibe radiating from him. "Can I ask something...maybe a little personal?" Sherlock asked; lying on his side next to me, his pale yet toned arm lightly resting across my chest. I nodded intrigued to find out the question.
"Do you remember anything about the 8th of November 2008?" I opened my eyes fully and glanced at him disconcertedly. "Huh? I can barely remember what Id eaten for dinner last night, let alone a random date six years ago."
"I thought as much." He said with a sniff. A few minutes passed in silence again before I asked out of curiosity, "Aren’t you going to tell me why you asked?" Sherlock let out a sigh of clear discontentment.
"I suppose I should... Do you recall Roxy's off Edgware Road?" A thousand memories sprang to mind after he spoke those words.
"Yes, I used to sing at that piano bar..." Some of the best and worst times of my life were had at that particular dive bar. I was growing ever more curious to know where this was leading.
"I know. I saw you there all those years ago." I looked at him with wide eyes, there was no way.

"November 8th. I ended up stopping there for a drink late that night on the way home from being on the case." He let out an unconvincing laugh, where was he going with this exactly? "I walked in and you were just standing there on stage in that...black dress, that was barely long enough to cover your arse, might I add. The one with the laced bodice." I could remember that exact dress, I was slowly starting to recall it all yet all I could do was sit there speechless. "You looked melancholic standing up there, even though you were signing beautifully; it was haunting all the same. The way you looked and sang compelled me to stay. I'm glad I did. I congratulated you after your show as you came off stage, you smiled and thanked me then disappeared outside. I followed you hoping to maybe get another look at you, I was fascinated; I just wanted to know your life story." I was in a state of stunned silence. He couldn't have been...He simply couldn't have. "I was held up inside by some drunks making fun of my hair but I shook them off as quickly as possible and went looking for you outside. You weren't there so I looked around the side alleys, maybe you'd have gone for a cigarette who knows, but I looked. And there you were..." He trailed off, appearing somewhat disturbed. "...slumped against the wall, your skin colourless and you were just zoning in and out of consciousness."
He was telling the whole truth; I’d recalled everything now. "It was you." I whispered.
"Yes." I wasn't sure how to react; I knew I was so inexplicably magnetized to Sherlock for a particular reason. And this was it. Sherlock Holmes had saved my life.
♠ ♠ ♠
Sorry this one's so short. Just had to cut it off there! (next part asap though)