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The Thinker Challenge	By : marksandspence Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 2251 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is based solely on the television show Sherlock that airs on BBC1, written by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I borrow their universe to play in and do not claim any ownership or intend to make any money off of this fun hobby of m

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7: Coffee, shower & shirt
Sherlock sits in his chair in his flat, distractedly reading a book. He alternately glances over toward his music stand, at the clock on the wall and across the room to his bedroom door. He reaches for his mug of tea, but after bringing it to his mouth, he flinches at its coldness. Upon hearing a noise from the bedroom, he quickly puts the mug down and lifts the book back up to his face.
In bed, Sio’s eyes blink open slowly, startled by the light. She sits up quickly, scanning the room in mild panic. Taking a breath, she fishes around under the covers until she recovers her panties, which she then slips on before reaching for her bra strewn over the bedside table. Not finding other suitable clothes, she tugs at the duvet momentarily before just deciding to get up and walk out of the room as is. She gingerly walks through the hallway, picking up the dress she has been wearing the night before from the floor.
“What time is it?” She asks, her eyes still unable to focus properly enough to read the clock.
“9:30,” Sherlock responds without looking up from his book.
Sio, clearly mortified, offers, “I must have fallen asleep. Oh, God, the taxi…I always book it for 1am.” She clumsily rushes over to the window, practically falling over a chair on the way.
“Hardly plausible that a taxi would wait for 8 and a half hours,” he sneers.
She takes in another breath, “I apologize for keeping you…from…whatever it is you usually do at this hour. I did not intend…”
“It’s fine. I heard the taxi,” he responds. “I wasn’t entirely sure what the protocol was in that situation – I don’t believe we’d covered that.”
She considers this a moment, extending her preparation by taking a breath and rubbing her eyes. Crossing her arms, she leans slightly against the sofa before responding, “The truth is, when the situation is reversed and they fall asleep in my bed, I always wake them – I rarely sleep when I’m not alone. Of course it's a bit tricky if you want to see them again, as such an action can be perceived as cold. More so among women than men, in my experience.”
“You’ve had women in your bed?” He asks with a slight eyebrow raise.
“Of course – lesbians are more familiar with female erogenous zones, which was rather critical for me when this all started. In any case, the precise timing and mechanism of bed ejection is one of the more fluid areas and unfortunately the reaction of the other person needs to be evaluated in advance. I would not have been upset in the least, but I have been told I am atypical. If after me you decide to switch to warm and stupid, these decisions become quite culpatory.”
“I will keep that in mind,” he responds, eyes returning to his book.
“Right then. Uh, I need to ask for three things. A shower, coffee and… a shirt?”
“Shower, fine. Coffee, unlikely but I’ll check. Shirt?”
“The thing is, I need to go straight to the lab. The last time I showed up at work in my shagging clothes, I had to switch universities. One of the many oddities of being female; to take you seriously, they have to see you as asexual. In any case, I imagine showing up in man’s clothing would be just as bad. I will figure something out. Shower first.”
She emerges from the bathroom a while later, fully clothed and a bit brighter. She sees a steaming cup of coffee on the table and her eyes go wide.
“Borrowed from Mrs. Hudson downstairs. You owe me for that, as she will be pestering from now on.”
“Again, sorry. But thank GOD.” She picks up the mug and drinks as quickly as the temperature allows.
“I presume the parking space will soon be yours?”
“Should be. Unless David has partnered with the Japanese again. They’ve got a cluster the size of a VW bus.”
“Might be time to consider purchasing a car.”
She smiles at his cleverness and shrugs, “No one else even asked.”
“I find it odd that you elevate Dr. Bane by referring to him as your nemesis. Or have I missed something?”
“He is mostly just a misogynistic blowhard with a comparatively average intellect. But he plays the game better than I can manage. He’s a people person.”
Sherlock winces. “Say no more.”
She takes another swig of coffee before sighing and putting the mug down. “I suppose its time to finish it. The fun part is done, did the data dump last night. Today I have to convince other people why I am right. You get to leave the paperwork to the police after you solve a case, I imagine.”
“Can’t your students do it?”
“Can they, though?” She lifts her head and widens her eyes a bit, “I want that bloody parking space.”
Sherlock puts the book down, finally. He watches as she pulls out her phone and starts fiddling with it, as if waiting for the right moment to say something. He frowns when she fails to look up.
“What are you looking for?” He asks.
“Clothing stores. You apparently need to know the names of them to find any information on this device.” She tosses the phone into her bag in frustration. Something occurs to her and she steps toward Sherlock, “Can you read me the size?” She turns around and leans over.
Surprised, he mumbles, “Pardon?”
“The size of the dress. I never remember. I have this habit of erasing useless bits of information– annoys the hell out of Harry. I don’t really shop.”
He flips the tag, “Ten.”
“UK or Euro? I’ve made that mistake before.”
“UK.”
“Ten. I can remember that,” she murmurs to herself.
Before she can stand up, he slips his hands around to the front of her dress, cups her breasts and pulls her onto his lap. She stiffens slightly in surprise, looking to the side.
“Last night was different. You left marks,” he whispers.
Still slightly tense, she takes a breath before replying.
“I suppose it was.”
“Why?” He asks while continuing to rub his hands over the fabric of her dress.
This aspect of their interactions Sherlock enjoyed nearly as much as the physical contact – her explanations, instructions, bits of advice for future partners. She had asked him, early on, whether he found ‘dirty talk’ arousing – she had demonstrated and they had gauged his response. This was better. Listening to her deconstruct sex and pleasure for his consumption was titillating. A rare circumstance in which he didn’t mind being instructed.
Sio found this show of sexual assertiveness from him jarring. She had already made the mental switch and was ready to focus on work. Still, she always knew his passivity would be fleeting.
“Because I wasn’t teaching,” she replies after a pause. In truth, it was more than that. She had let herself relinquish control – not to him, but to her own more base desires.
“I like it when you say my name…” he quietly confesses. When she doesn’t respond, he adds, “Come, now. Lets play.”
She pulls away gently and stands up. Turning to him as she straightens her dress, she offers,
“Next time. We’ve done you and we’ve done me. Best for last...”
“Saturday?” He asks with resignation.
“Tomorrow. Come to mine at 10,” she says as she puts on her coat.
Sherlock nods with a faint smile.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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The Thinker Challenge