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Elle's Story	By : Cozygoma-lover Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3523 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of BBC SHERLOCK. It belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's estate, the BBC, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I gain nothing from my story financially. I enjoyed writing it, hoping you will have pleasure reading it equall

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
"I think it was me" stated Elle looking quizzical. She picked up her phone.
MH:    I need to speak to you. In car outside Baker Street. Will wait as long as it takes. Say nothing to SH. Mycroft.
"It is me. I need to nip out. Sorry. Won't be long." Elle kissed Sherlock on the cheek, grabbed her jacket and keys and went downstairs without a backward glance, skipping across from the front door, climbing into the back of a large black car, sitting next to her lover's elder brother.
"Drive - anywhere" said Mycroft sliding closed the connecting window in the limousine. "I feel I need to have a talk with you Lavinia Jensen."
"Good morning Mycroft Holmes. Nice to see you too. How did you get my private mobile number?"
"Oh that is easy. It is just about the only number my brother has been contacting for weeks other than John's and his pet policeman."
"You do know Sherlock will guess I have been talking with you? I will not lie Mycroft."
"Don't get all waspish and defensive yet. You don't know why I want to talk to you. I want to know the meaning of your relationship with my brother?"
"We are two consenting adults who enjoy the other's company, have become good friends and are involved. That's all."
"You are sleeping with Sherlock."
"Are you asking or telling me?"
"I am only looking out for his interests. I fear he might have fallen in love with you."
"So? I love him too as a matter of fact."
"Really? He is not a normal man. He will not want to settle down and have children and make house you know."
"Neither do I. We are just enjoying being with one another. He is still working, for the police and for you occasionally. I am not distracting him. It just means he has a friendly pair of arms to hold him and a pair of ears to listen to him when he gets home. I do not have any picket fence illusions."
"What is your attraction to him?"
"I find your brother to be the most intelligent, erudite and witty man of my acquaintance. He fascinates me. He makes me laugh out loud more than anyone I have previously known. He is also the most beautiful man I have ever seen. I love being with him."
"He is a good lover, Elle?"
"What has that got to do with you?"
"Just I know he has had little or no experience of women in the past. You must forgive him if he is a little unorthodox or unskilled."
"Sherlock is the most exceptional lover. He can be extremely tender and loving one time and rampant the next. Our sex life is exciting, varied and exhilarating. Do you have a sex life to speak of, Mycroft?"
"I... I... I am clearly dedicated to my work and..."
"And you have just assumed I am bad for your brother?"
"On the contrary. He seems very happy, happier than I think I have ever known him in fact, and I am delighted for him, for both of you. I just do not want to see him hurt, Lavinia." Mycroft tapped the connecting window with the end of his umbrella.
"I have no intention of hurting him." Her voice dropped and she stared into Mycroft's cold grey-blue eyes; they were so very different from his brother's. "I love him Mycroft. I have told him, but probably even he does not know how much. I would do anything for him."
"Then I feel he is in good hands and I trust you to take care of him. Sherlock is an oxymoron: he is the most intelligent person I know as well. His brain power and deductive skills are second to none, which is why I call on his services frequently, although he often tries to resist or find other things to do than assist me, but I know he is the best. However, he is also like an overgrown spoiled child. He will sulk if things are not as he wants, sit around in his pyjamas all day, have tantrums... You know much of this already. He was still in his pyjamas when I turned up last Sunday."
"Yes, but it was not that long after 9 in the morning on Easter Sunday and if you had half your brother's powers of observation you would have noticed I was still in my pyjamas, as were Mary and John. We had a very late night and had not long been up, having breakfast, still deciding what to do during the somewhat wet day when you called upon him."
"Ah. Mummy said he was angry with me when I spoke to her. I told her about you. Our parents would like to meet you."
"I know, I heard Sherlock's half of a conversation with your mother, and then his schoolboy tantrum - as you mentioned - afterwards."
"He has always been like that. Do not expect too much of him. He is very new at relationships."
"I'm struggling to keep up with him Mycroft. He has a phenomenal brain, yes, but his body matches it. Even he has been surprised by that."
"Now he has been working on another case with the police and John has he still been attentive to you? I mean these last few days he has been dashing about again. I know how much he loves the thrill of his work. He has not been neglecting you now, I hope. I mean, when did he last have... I mean, are things ok when he is working?"
"We had sex this morning Mycroft, if that is what you are trying to ask. Is your main role spying on what your brother is doing?" Mycroft looked suddenly small and sheepish. "He is a very caring and attentive lover."
"But a very frustrating man."
"And a wonderful one. You may or may not be aware but he adores you. He has spoken of you to me with such pride, but hides a lot of that from you. What is it about brothers that will not let them admit their feelings and respect for one another? You have told me your thoughts on him, he has done the same on you. Yet I bet you have never told each other, in so many words."
"I hope his opinion of me does not change. Sherlock knows I have a high opinion of him, that is why I ask him to be involved when I know 'normal' British Intelligence will not have a hope."
"Where are we going Mycroft?"
"Baker Street. And here we are." Elle looked out the window for the first time since alighting and there was Speedy's cafe and the black friendly door drawing into view. The car pulled up outside the cafe. "I have something for you Elle. Do not think too unkindly of me please. It was necessary. It had to be done. Until we meet again, under better circumstances hopefully. I hope you will consider coming and meeting our parents some time soon." He gave her a small brown sealed envelope.
She climbed out of the limousine, keeping her head within the shelter of the car and turned to it's occupant. "We have a very loving, very sexual and very strong relationship. If you need any further proof of where it is going..." She paused, fumbled around in her pocket, then held out her keys to 221B, "I hope it is very long-term Mycroft. Who is to say in love? Life is very unpredictable. Perhaps you should try to get to know your own brother a little better, rather than just use him when you need his help or advice, Mr Holmes."
"You may be right! Good day to you."
Elle dashed across the pavement, unlocked the door and went upstairs, shaking off the worst of the rain as she went. Walking into the room Sherlock, now sitting in the lounge with the Watsons awaiting her return, caught her eye and looked very sullen about something. "Where have you been?"
"No idea. I did not look. I was in the back of a big black car with Mycroft."
"Mycroft? What did he want?"
"He wanted to know who I am Sherlock. Who I am to you and what our long-term plans are."
"What on Earth did you say?"
"I told him we are consenting adults in an intimate relationship that we both hope will last indefinitely. I told him I love you and that I have no intention of hurting you, and I told him he ought to make an effort to know, and not just use, his younger brother because there is a very lovely person there worth knowing, if he took the time."
"I can just imagine what he said to that."
"He agreed with me."
"Now there is a surprise. You have obviously captured the hearts and minds of both the weird Holmes' brothers."
"Just so long as you don't expect me to sleep with him too..." She smirked. Sherlock chuckled at the absurdity of the idea.
"Does he know that we..."
"Yes."
"What? What did you tell him?"
"I confirmed that we are lovers. That is all he needed to know. He is actually very concerned about you. I did not give him a blow by blow account."
"Not like you not to choose your words carefully." This time Sherlock smirked. Elle's cheek flushed a very healthy shade of puce. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears, and she spoke the thing that had been on her mind since John had said he had been 'interrogated' about her by their colleagues in the Met on Friday night.
"I feel a net tightening around me Sherlock. It is suffocating me and I am getting frightened. First the Met quizzing you and John, now Mycroft quizzing me. Are you going to be a dangerous person to be in love with? You faked your own death to save John, Mrs Hudson and others. What happens when some freaky arch enemy finds out you have a girlfriend?"
"You alone have felt the full intensity, depth and power of my love. They would feel the power of my wrath. I could be a more ruthless, terrifying and dangerous enemy than anyone would want. I will not allow anyone to hurt you Elle." Sherlock spoke intensely but calmly. He then walked steadily across to her, put his arms around her, squeezed her gently and closely to him and said "Sorry you have been pummelled by Mycroft. I will have a word with him."
"No need" she sniffed, raising her gaze allowing Sherlock to gently kiss her lips. "I have put him straight. He knows who I am now, where I stand, what our relationship is and what you mean to me. The next time I am interrogated I will not be quite so courteous, if there is a next time, but I don't think there will be." Then she added "He gave me this". She held up the envelope. Ms Lavinia Jensen. STRICTLY PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL was the missive on the front.
Walking away into the kitchen for a little privacy, Elle put the filter coffee machine on to brew again, then opened the envelope. She withdrew a piece of paper and a memory stick. She read the piece of paper and her eyes flashed and filled with even more tears, then she seemed to lose balance, nearly fainting. "Oh my God." Sherlock looked at her concerned. She held out the paper for him to read. He crossed the room at speed to help her into a chair before taking the paper from her.
It was in old style memorandum format and said:
TO:   Ms Lavinia Jensen           FROM:   Mycroft Holmes Esq.
CC:   - DATE:   26 APRIL 20##
SUBJECT:   Relationship with MR SHERLOCK HOLMES, 221B BAKER STREET, LONDON W1
Due to the extraordinarily confidential and occasionally serious nature of the work your boyfriend, Mr Sherlock Holmes, and I deal with on a regular basis, it was seen as prudent to investigate you. All our findings are enclosed within this dossier, safe to say we found nothing untoward in your background.
Please find enclosed a memory stick with the files that have been created about you. I assure you this is the only copy. No paper versions were created and the main folder was double deleted once copied in full for your perusal.
Included are transcriptions of conversations between you and Mr Sherlock Holmes in his and your home bedrooms from 20-25 April inclusive. Please note the electronic listening devices - 'bugs' - that were automatically switched off 10.00pm 25 April, are concealed within the base units of the lamps on the bedside tables closest to the door in each location.
Again, please accept my sincerest apologies for this invasion into your privacy.
I look forward to meeting you in better circumstances, as my brother's girlfriend, rather than the subject of an investigation, perhaps at my parents' over the Spring Bank Holiday. Best regards to both you and my brother.
MEMO END
There was no signature, just a very formal looking stamp in the bottom right-hand corner.
Sherlock's arm holding the piece of paper dropped; he was physically shaking and looked angrier than Elle, Mary or even John had ever seen him. "The bastard!" he shrieked. "I think I am going to kill him!"
"What's the matter?" enquired John, looking intensely from Sherlock to Elle.
"Show him Sherlock" said Elle also still shaking, "and Mary". Sherlock thrust the memo into John's hand as he headed for his bedroom. Mary read over John's shoulder.
"Oh God. No wonder he's so angry" said Mary looking at Elle. "Are you all right? I will get you a coffee."
"Yes, thank you. Just a little shaken." Uncontrollable silent tears continued to cascade down Elle's cheeks.
"... and ring me back as soon as you get this Mycroft." The three in the kitchen heard the end of Sherlock's answer-phone message to his brother. Boy, was Mycroft in trouble!
Sherlock boomed through into the kitchen with his brother's bug in his hand, ready to fly off the handle again, when a sight stopped him in his tracks. His girlfriend sat shaking at the kitchen table holding the memory stick and subconsciously rolling it in her fingers of her left hand; John sat beside her holding her other hand, Mary standing, arm around Elle's shoulders, a hot mug of coffee in her hand, just putting it on the table.
"God, where are my manners. Thank you Mary." He went over and embraced Mary, kissing her cheek. "Thanks John." He held out a hand to John which John took and shook but then stood and embraced his obviously distressed friend. Sherlock bent and kissed his girlfriend softly on the cheek, wiping away tears with his thumb, then pulled her coffee closer to her, taking the seat John just vacated. "Oh baby, I am so, so sorry. It never occurred to me you might be put on 'espionage watch'."
"I am all right, Sherlock. I was just a little shocked. Thanks for the cuppa Mary." Elle dried her eyes.
"What about Mary and me? Will we have been checked out also?"
"You John, Mycroft approached personally very early, even tried to get you to spy on me for him for money, if you remember? I guess with your military record, you will have automatically been checked and passed muster. As for Mary..." he paused, their eyes met, a flash of recognition between them then he continued, "Mary, I believe, being married to you is seen as too far away from me to be of consideration for examination". He semi-smiled nearly apologetically, but something had crossed between the two of them that neither John nor Elle would ever know.
Sherlock's phone began to ring. "Mycroft" he said seeing his brother's name, answering it as he went out the room. Again, like they had when his mother had telephoned the previous weekend, the trio in the kitchen could hear Sherlock's half of the conversation, and it was more than slightly evident he was not happy.
"You bastard! What the hell were you thinking?... I understand that, but a bug in my bedroom?... And one at Kew as well? Well I hope you got off on it Mycroft... I don't care you have not listened to it personally, someone has!!... Oh, and that is all right with you is it? Some faceless wonder from MI6 or wherever has been listening to your brother and his girlfriend at their most intimate moments... She had better be discreet... Are there any more of your blasted bugs here? Do I need to check out the rest of Baker Street for listening devices, or cameras even? Does Mrs Hudson need to check her apartment? Anything there, or how about more hidden at Kew, or is there anything at John and Mary's home?"
There was a long pause for Mycroft's reply in detailed dissent and Sherlock finally stopped shouting, the anger having welled up inside him. His voice suddenly softened. "Elle has been extremely upset by this whole episode Mycroft. Why didn't you tell me you would look into her back story? I could have at least warned her of the possibility and explained why... I know there are protocols but... She is my girlfriend... OK then, lover, we are not sixteen year olds... you know that now by the transcripts. Have you read them?... Oh Christ... Thank you at least for that. Are you sure?... Oh, I see... Of course she let me read it... OK, ok I understand... Yes, I will tell her. Thanks Mycroft."
Looking exasperated Sherlock sighed, threw the bug onto the lit fire then re-took the seat next to Elle, thanking Mary with a nod as she pushed forward another mug of coffee, this time towards him.
"Are you sure burning alone is going to disable that thing? I guess that was the bug?" asked John.
"Probably not, which is why I crushed it under a hard shoe heel before I came in here. It's supposed to be turned off by now anyway. I thought it was strange when he dropped the dossier off himself last weekend then had to 'use my bathroom' before leaving again. He planted the bloody thing, I'm sure of it. Argh."
"Then there is a second bug in my bedroom at Kew too?" Elle enquired as she put the memory stick down on the table.
"Yes, by the sound of things."
"Oh my God, the electrician." A flashing moment of realisation hit Elle. Sherlock looked perplexed. "Em left me a post-it note about some electrician visitor. I dismissed it out of hand."
"Shit. I cannot believe the arrogance of the man. If he was here right now I would... [Sherlock balled his hands into fists.] How did he feel he would get away with this? I am not privy to information that sensitive very often myself. And I would definitely never discuss in detail anything I do for him. Why was he so compelled to see if we were revealing classified secrets to one another in bed? We are not in a cold war situation anymore. He just probably wanted to get his rocks off, or find out if I was any good in the sack. Damn him!"

"Don't get riled again Sherlock." Elle was almost pleading with him, placing her hand in his. "It's over now. Don't think of it."
Sherlock picked up her hand with his and kissed it. "What will you do with that?", his eyes looking at the memory stick now sitting in the middle of the table.
"I don't know. I was tempted to let it join the bug in your fire, but I will keep it in the short term. I'm not sure I will ever look at it. It is not even compatible with my iPad." All around the table laughed and the tension, which had been extremely high ever since Elle had opened the envelope, dissipated. Sherlock put the memo and memory stick back into the envelope, rose, walked over and put it on the mantelpiece to either put in his safe later, or for Elle to take home and put somewhere out of mind.
"Are you feeling ok now Elle?" enquired John. She nodded.
"Fine thanks John, just a little distracted... Oh my God! Those transcripts. Do those dates cover when the four of us were here together?"
"Probably. Thank goodness we are not that talkative!" Sherlock tried to sound positive.
"Oh this is just unbearable. Sherlock. Mycroft would not say anything to anyone would he? I don't care for me, but for Mary and John, and you..."
"Don't let it worry you. He wouldn't say anything." Sherlock tried to reassure her. "Try and let it escape your thoughts, and if you can't, we will have a look at the transcripts together, if you want to. We will only need to see where they start and finish to remember what happened in between. Mycroft is discretion to the extreme, believe me." Then all of a sudden his face burst into an unexpected and uncontrollable smile. "Let's count ourselves lucky he did not plant bugs in the whole of your bloody house!"
"Why, were you playing around in places other than the bedroom?" John was now very interested. Mary glowered at John feeling as though he had asked the most personal and inappropriate question, especially bearing in mind what had just happened.
"One or two places" answered Sherlock, a glimmer in his eye that reflected the naughty schoolboy within him yet again.
"Em and Kaye were away. Save their personal spaces we managed to 'experiment' around the place." Elle looked sheepish now, but colour had returned to her face and she too was smiling, properly smiling, for the first time in what felt like a couple of hours.
"Let's go out and have a walk somewhere - blow some steam." Mary was full of good ideas. Refreshed after their breakfast and wrapped warmly, with Sherlock walking with Mycroft's old umbrella 'just in case' the four of them found themselves back in Regent's Park, taking a shorter walk than the first wander they had shared there together. Even with the correct outerwear it was still very cold, to say it was late April.
Back at Baker Street the coffee machine, kettle and fire were all put back into action. John mashed a pot of tea for him and Sherlock, whereas Elle made the coffee - not being a tea drinker - and Mary joined her in that. It had been a good afternoon considering the upset of the morning. Sherlock was calm now and no longer occasionally muttering 'Mycroft!' under his breath, as he had continued to do so during the walk. Elle too had finally de-stressed about the whole thing and the envelope and its contents were duly forgotten about, short-term at least.
Dinner was quite literally what the doctor ordered. John mentioned he thought they would have had bacon butties, as they had previously when the four of them were all at Baker Street. When Elle suggested they could have them for evening instead, John's description of and longing for a 'good old fry up' set them all salivating and, with fresh tomatoes, bacon, mushrooms and eggs in the house a foreshortened version of that came about.
As the evening closed in and curtains were drawn and the lights put on low a round of drinks - single malt whiskies for John and Sherlock, and Gins for the girls (Bitter Lemon for Elle, Tonic for Mary - some of the provisions Mrs Hudson had supplied earlier on Sherlock's request) general conversation drifted into talk of bed time.
Elle seemed a little fractious about the subject to start, but nothing was going to stop her feeling the way she did and wanting Sherlock, so she joined in the discourse. Unknown to the others she had been thinking about the sessions she and Sherlock had had together recently and what might be within those transcripts. The thought of someone having to go through and write down every word they said - could you even spell some of the noises they expelled during their most intimate moments?
Elle realised she was not going to be able to get beyond this and asked if she could borrow Sherlock's laptop and excuse herself. Sherlock followed her into his bedroom and helped her set it up - no-one on Earth would ever guess his password protection system that was for sure! After explaining that the first letter or number - all of which were case sensitive - on each line on the left of the memo was the password Mycroft had protected the memory stick with - he left her to have a look at what was there. Sherlock offered again to go through the transcripts with her, but she said there was no need, and that she would call him if she needed moral support. After a long deep breath Elle attached the USB and the laptop found the new hardware immediately coming up with a password prompt.
'Clever Mycroft' she thought as she entered each character, though annoyed she felt anything even vaguely positive about him. The memory stick opened and two folders were on the drive: DOSSIER and TRANSCRIPTS. The dossier could wait. It might be interesting to visit one day, to find out just how much of her life was 'out there' for the people who can find what is to be found, but her eyes and thoughts were drawn to the other file. More deep breathing required as she clicked the icon TRANSCRIPTS to find two more folders beneath: BS and KW. Baker Street and Kew she thought. Which was more important for her to view? Unsure but knowing they had moved from Baker Street to Kew, she decided she would look at the files in that order.
Clicking on BS she held her breath this time. There were six entries marked 2004, 2104 through to 2504. "The dates" she whispered to herself. 2004 was clicked on. The layout was very simple; no heading, no names, just coded and straight into whatever had been spoken.
KW:   Time.
KM:   Where do you think you are going?
KW:   I was going to get up and rustle up some drinks, then think about what we could have for dinner.
KM:   Oh no you don't. You cannot do that to a man and not let him reap some sort of revenge.
UM:   Good idea.
KW:   You bastard. Just you wait.
KM:   It is you who will have to wait. A month probably the way I am feeling at the moment.
KW:   It won't be that long I assure you.
"Oh my God" Elle said to herself, more tears running down her cheeks. It all seemed so raw, and yet at the time it had been wonderful. She could read no more in that file. But she knew she would not rest until she understood the extent of what had been written. She clicked on 2504 to see where conversations at Baker Street had stopped, scrolling quickly to near the end of the entries.
UM:   I haven't texted J yet. I texted you first but when I received no reply and as I was already in this vicinity I thought I would come and enquire from MH where you were. She said you were in here. This is huge S. The sooner you and J can look at the crime scene the more I think you will be able to understand from it.
KM:   Text J now, give him the address and say to meet us directly there.
KW:   Oops!
KM:   Shit! God, now the whole damn force will know I am sleeping with someone. Sorry.
KW:   Well, think positively. At least now the whole damn force will know it is not JW.
KM:   Hah! See you later. Why don't you text M? She and J are coming over later to stay this weekend as we planned anyway so, if she is free, she might be able to join you earlier. No idea how long we will be today.
Closing the BS folder there she opened KW. Again the same dates were listed there too.
2004 was totally blank. They were at Baker Street all day, she knew that.
2104 had a much more detailed entry:
KW:   I want to tie you up S.
KM:   You are teasing me E.
KW:   You think? You don't need to be a great detective to come to that conclusion.
KM:   Take me.
KW:   I am not done ??? Don't start without me.
She scrolled a little way down, noticing some of the intimacies she and Sherlock had shared, especially with the accompaniment of ice. Suddenly four words stood out from the page. There in black and white: "I love you Sherlock."
'Thank goodness we are not very talkative when love making generally' she thought. 2204 and 2304 were blank. As Sherlock had said it was a good job they had not bugged other rooms in the house as that was where they had been 'playing' during those times, including the lounge, kitchen, a very impromptu visit to her darkroom and more than a touch of naughtiness in the shower yet again. Although quite conversational at times, there did not seem too much from Kew after all...
Then she opened the file marked 2404
KW:   Now S, now.
KM:   You want me?
KW:   Yes.
KM:   Now?
KW:   Yes, now.
KM:   Tell me what you want E.
KW:   God, why are you teasing me? I want you, S, yes, now, yes, inside me, hard, fast, deep, everything. I want all of you. Just ...
KM:   I just wanted to make sure.
KW:   You wanted me to beg.
KM:   I wanted you to beg.
KW:   Hit me S.
KM:   No.
KW:   Hurt me.
KM:   I... I can't.
KW"   I want more of you.
KM:   God, what planet are you on at this minute?
KW:   I don't know but you are coming with me...
Elle read this with very mixed feelings. The thought someone had listened to that, including all the 'live' creaks, groans and sighs which thankfully were not transcribed to the file, was frankly horrifying but reading it back stimulated her, remembering the moment, not knowing then that their every word and breath was being witnessed.
Now came a feeling of overwhelming shame. After all she had been through this morning, all Sherlock's ranting at Mycroft about how much she had been upset, she now realised she has been turned on when reading it back. She went to the bedroom door and called Sherlock's name. He came into the room and, looking at her face, wondered what was wrong. She got him to glance over the open file. His face stayed passive whilst he read then, judging her reaction said "Well, one thing you can say is we do have some fun."
Elle laughed. Tears poured down her face again, but she continued to laugh, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging and kissing him, feeling relieved at his response.
After removing the memory stick and closing down the laptop Elle returned to the lounge where John, Mary and now Sherlock again were sitting. She gave the envelope to Sherlock, who put it in his safe, locked away for another day...
"Everything ok? asked Mary having noticed the tear stains on Elle's cheeks.
"Yes. It was not as bad as I had envisioned it might be. There is some graphic detail but without being there and knowing what the majority of it refers to, Joe Average would not be much the wiser. You are both mentioned on there, but they have not included any names, they have been redacted to just initials, even Sherlock and I are listed as KM and KW; I am guessing they stand for Known Man and Known Woman because Greg Lestrade and you John are both listed as UM - Unknown Man - and you are obviously generally very quiet in the bedroom Mary. I am sure you are there somewhere but not in the pieces I read."
"Thank goodness none of us give running commentary as we are doing things to one another" John added. "Does it include the noises off or just dialogue?" Mary stared knowingly at her husband.
"Just the dialogue thank goodness. I really feared it saying 'grunt', 'groan' and 'sigh' everywhere but it was not that detailed. Most of the intimate things it did pick up were words, said by me..." She trailed off.
"What did you say?" was Sherlock's enquiry.
"It noted that I said 'I love you Sherlock' and the other, though not so sweet was a little more graphic."
"What was it?" chorused John and Sherlock together. Sherlock gave her a reassuring nod that implied they were among friends and that he did not mind them knowing the details.
"When I said I wanted to tie you up." She blushed slightly. John and Sherlock exchanged raised eyebrows.
"Did you tie him up?"
"Yes John, she did." Sherlock's smile was obviously a reflection of his thoughts of that night. "I got to tie her up later, so I did not mind in the slightest."
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