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Sherlock and John and Rosie (and Mrs. Hudson too)	By : GizmoTrinket Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4625 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock in any iteration, BBC or otherwise. I make no money from this work in any way, shape or form

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: Mixed POV again. Warnings (contains spoilers) Warnings: Military kink, submissive John, possessive Sherlock, edging, not exactly safe bdsm practices, restraints, rimming, oral sex, prostate massager, topping from the bottom, anal sex.
Chapter 8: Sex Life
++++
----Sherlock's POV----
John was growing agitated but Sherlock couldn't leave the flat; he had to protect Rosie. He spent his time teaching Gladstone new tricks. Gladstone was quite brilliant for a dog. But John was growing twitchy and snapped at the human genius of the flat several times.
It took Sherlock far longer than it should have to understand John was sexually frustrated. Wanking in the shower or bath didn't relieve John's stress the way it normally did. The taller of the two also noted the blond also woke up with an erection frequently.
So, one such morning Sherlock attacked.
It was awful! John had morning breath and Sherlock had to urinate. John laughed at Sherlock's expression when stubble scratched the brunette's lips and they agreed morning sex was sexier after Rosie had breakfast. Unfortunately, getting out of bed meant a delay that just kept getting longer. After breakfast came a nappy change and John demanded Sherlock "eat something for the love of god it has been days."
"Oh!" Sherlock had a flash of inspiration when he was starting to get frustrated and he ran Rosie downstairs to Hudders's capable care.
When he returned he crowded John against the wall; hunching over so John didn't have to rise up on his toes. The shorter man chose to anyway, leaning into the kiss until it became something that could never be described as chaste. Sherlock undid John's button and zip and dropped to his knees. John's newly freed prick bouncing in his face.
"Condom!" John demanded; neither of them had been to the clinic yet.
Sherlock wrapped his hand around John's shaft and stroked it before licking a defiant strip from root to tip.
"Sherlock!" John gasped; part plea to continue, part request to stop and get a rubber.
The brunette frowned; he should have grabbed one before. He made a mental note to hide them around the flat. Knowing John would scold him if he continued the way he really wanted to Sherlock wrapped his large hands around his lover's hips and spun him so he was facing the door. John went willingly and Sherlock took that as encouragement. The taller man had never done this before but after reading some of the fanfiction written about them (which were brilliant until the author got some detail wrong and Sherlock was pulled out of his fantasy) he'd wanted to try it. He pulled John's cheeks apart and hesitated.
"Sherlock?" John sounded half terribly turned on and half scared.
The consulting detective decided the best way to see if John liked it was to just go for it without dancing around. He dragged his tongue over John's hole.
"Aaaahhh~ Fuck!"
'Well,' Sherlock smirked, 'that was encouraging.' He exposed his lover further and traced around the rim.
"Nngh!" John tried to stifle the noise by biting into his clothed arm.
The brunette decided to repeat that only this time so lightly it might tickle. John cried out so Sherlock alternated between clockwise, counter clockwise directly over, forceful, light and everything in between until John's legs were shaking and the blond was a sweaty, panting mess. The shorter man had loosened long ago and only now did Sherlock breech him with his tongue.
"Aah! Sher-Sherlock!" John's breath hitched when Sherlock pulled his tongue out and thrust in hard. "Oh, fuck this feels fantastic!"
The brunette's prick twitched in sympathy. "Bedroom!" He demanded, wiping saliva from his face.
John turned over and groaned at the scene the flushed consulting detective made. The blond's legs gave way and he slid down the door.
"C'mon, John!" Sherlock hopped up and pulled the shorter man to his feet.
John tucked himself into his pants and allowed himself to be dragged up the stairs; one hand holding up his trousers, one hand being pulled on by his pushy lover. He ended up on the bed with his arse in the air trying to stifle his moans into a pillow as Sherlock showed off an amazingly talented tongue. Shakily John moved up before pulling open a drawer and throwing a condom at Sherlock.
The brunette didn't stop his ministrations but they became less coordinated as he undid his trousers and freed his prick from his pants. He wanted to move down to John's testicles but decided to save that for later as he was already bent over too far to put on the latex barrier.
"Please! Sher-" John was clearly too desperate on to articulate Sherlock's name.
Sherlock ripped the package open and the bottle of lube hit him in the forehead.
John giggled. "Sorry."
Temporarily abandoning the condom Sherlock spilled cold lube over John's hole.
"Shit! I said sorry!"
It wasn't intended as a punishment, really. It was just that the brunette wanted this to last and John was nearly too far gone. Single headedly Sherlock put the condom on and with the other he scooped some of the lube dripping down over John's testicles onto his finger and breached his lover.
John groaned in relief.
Sherlock shivered at the sound and decided to test John's prostate sensitivity. When the blond yelped Sherlock knew John wouldn't enjoy the same type of direct pounding the taller of the two did. Adding more lube Sherlock worked another finger in.
John arched his back and bit the pillow.
Contrary to some of the stories he'd read Sherlock was average sized. He wasn't self conscious about it and actually felt rather good about it now. He knew he wouldn't hurt John. And preparation could be minimal.
"For fuck's sake if you don't- Ahnng!"
Sherlock just ghosted over John's prostate and grinned wickedly at the result.
"Sherlock." John panted. "Sherlock, please. I'm begging you."
And fuck all if that wasn't sexy. Not wanted teasing to become torture (for either of them) Sherlock lined up and eased himself in.
++++
----John's POV----
Sherlock was in a sulk. Not his normal sulks where he just laid about on the couch in a sheet or ranted and raved across the flat with a harpoon because he was bored. This one was more insidious.
John tried to distract his partner with cases but even a ten couldn't motivate the consulting detective to leave the flat. Nor could running out of body parts to experiment on. Even running out of nappies couldn't get Sherlock out of 221B.
One day, two weeks into Sherlock's self-imposed imprisonment and nearly a month after the incident, John came home and the kitchen was clean. There weren't any mould cultures growing on old bread, no sticky notes warning John not to touch or eat something, all the experiments seemed to be disposed of. The microscope was gone and the only glassware John could find was for drinking, no beakers or test tubes anywhere.
"Sherlock?" John's voice broke.
"Hm?"
"What's going on?"
"Our life isn't conductive to raising a child. I'm fixing that."
The blond felt ill. "No. You're erasing yourself. Why?"
Naturally, Sherlock ignored John's question. "What happens when Rosie goes to school?"
It took John a moment to figure out what his paramour was talking about. "You don't want her to be different?"
The brunette didn't say anything, just stared into the empty fireplace.
"Sherlock, we're more than capable of protecting Rosie. And she's going to be different no matter how "normal" you try to act."
Multi-coloured eyes met John's. They were wide with alarm.
John smiled and walked over to the genius. "She's part me, yeah?"
Sherlock snorted and waved his arm dismissively. "Only idiots think you're normal. Given the general population if she turns out like you she'll be safe."
The doctor laughed bitterly before sobering. "She won't turn out like me. Thank god!"
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, reading the history John wasn't trying to hide. How John had developed his facade out of necessity to hide his home life."Yes, you're right." This seemed to trouble the brunette more.
John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair gently. "Hey, it's going to be ok."
"No, it's not!" Sherlock turned his head so he was simultaneously leaning into John's touch and retreating. "What if Donovan calls social services? What if Mycroft tries to take her? She has the Holmes genes."
"What about it? Rosie's my daughter."
"John." Sherlock pleaded for the blond to understand without saying anything. When John just shook his head helplessly Sherlock's chin wavered and he looked away.
Rosie started crying and Sherlock fled.
----
John's phone rang, it was Lestrade. "He's still not taking cases." John answered without bothering with a greeting.
"John? Hey, no. This isn't a case. I was just wondering if you could go out for a pint."
Gladstone wandered in and John patted the couch. Jumping on the furniture when invited was one of the tricks Sherlock taught the little dog to avoid boredom. Gladstone hopped up and John scratched behind his ears. The blond was happy his previous owner was dead (which was a bit not good) because it meant Sherlock didn't have to lose the sweet little creature.
"I don't know." John was sure there was nowhere safer for Rosie than 221B and Sherlock wouldn't ever harm her. But the doctor wasn't worried about his daughter.
"They'll be fine for a bit. This is important."
John sighed, cast one long glance at the bedroom and agreed.
"Mrs. Hudson?" John rapped his knuckles on 221A.
"John? What's happened?" Mrs. Hudson was as if not more worried about Sherlock than John was and she hadn't even seen the kitchen yet.
The blond winced. "Nothing like that. Greg needs to chat and I need you to keep an eye on them."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" She whispered.
"No." John answered honestly.
Mrs. Hudson seemed to understand and patted him on the shoulder.
It took John forever to hail a cab.
----
"It'd almost be better if he wasn't still having sex with me." John lamented. He could tell Greg was uncomfortable but couldn't help it. He didn't have any friends he could really talk to. "It's like he's terrified I'm going to leave him if he does anything wrong but at the same time trying to change everything about himself." John sighed. "I would say he's trying to change because he wants to be normal for me but I think he's smarter than that. It's Rosie."
"Rosie?" Greg seemed confused by the sudden subject change.
"Yeah, he's scared Mycroft's going to take her away if he's not perfect."
"Speaking about Mycroft..."
"What about him, Greg? I'm sure Molly told you everything."
"That's the thing though. We're convinced he didn't kill his brother we just need proof so Sherlock will too."
Hope blossomed in John's chest. "Are you serious?" The blond knew that Sherlock practically worshiped his older brother. They both just pretended they hated each other and the betrayal was killing the consulting detective. The younger trusted Mycroft with everything and this shattered that.
"Yeah. Molly figured it all out. Mycroft feels responsible but he didn't do it. That's why he's acting like that. And you know how his job is, right?"
"No." John was never quite sure what it was that Mycroft did.
"Basically he's in charge of national security. He essentially has free reign over everything but he can only keep his post if he's completely impartial. Sa- Aditi told us." Greg was whispering now.
Feeling like they should change the subject in such a public place John asked, "So, how are you and Molly doing anyway?"
"God, John." Greg sat back. "She's amazing. You have no idea. She's so smart and loyal and hard working and in bed..." He blushed and stopped talking.
"Yeah, she's really something now that she's gotten over her crush on Sherlock."
"Before then even. She's really funny in this weird way that is so adorable and she's not squeamish at all. Like, I could always talk to her about everything, even over dinner without an appropriate conversation lecture. And she would give me suggestions on my cases without being a condescending arse. Sorry." The silver haired man winced. John waved it off and Greg continued. "And she's understanding about my job. She doesn't resent me and hold the long hours against me. If I have to cancel one of our dates she shrugs it off as long as I do the same." The detective took a long drink. "We had this huge fight because I was jealous of the time she spent hanging out with Mycroft."
John winced, remembering the other doctor shattering her cell phone when running the DNA test.
"Yeah. Well after I apologized she forgave me and hasn't brought it up since." Greg looked stunned. "She hasn't held it against me or punished me for it or made any of those snide comments or anything."
John knew his friend was comparing Molly to his ex-wife. Still, "You've got it bad."
"I think I'm in love with her."
"Congratulations." The blond doctor was happy for them both. They were well suited for each other. A much more functional couple then him and Sherlock. John knew he didn't deserve the brilliant consulting detective after everything he'd put him through. He drank half his beer in one go.
The thought must have shown on his face because Greg said, "He wants you. He's only ever wanted you. Are you going to hold that against him forever?"
"I'm not-"
The silver haired man cut him off. "I did this with my ex-wife, you know. Instead of demanding respect I kept making excuses for her and blaming myself every time she had an affair."
"Not really seeing the similarities here."
"What I mean is, as long as I believed I didn't deserve her she took advantage of me and I resented her." He put his hands up. "I'm not saying that's going to happen to you but why not try to be the man he thinks you are?"
John looked down at his drink.
"Don't push him away anymore. Please." Greg said softly.
The doctor nodded.
"And don't talk to me about your sex life." The detective said to lighten the mood. "He's like a little brother and I really don't want to think of him like that."
"Oh my god!" John groaned. "You know how he has an oral fixation?"
"Shut up!" Greg begged while laughing.
When they parted ways Greg promised someone would let John know when they found something.
++++
----Mixed POV----
They took turns topping. Sometimes because one of them was too sore, sometimes because one of them was in the mood.
That night John came home slightly drunk, hopeful and happy. As soon as he shut the door to the flat he was crowded up against it by six feet of lanky, angry consulting detective.
"Where were you?!" He demanded.
"Out with Greg."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "You didn't tell me you were leaving. I turned around and you were gone! You weren't answering your phone! You're happy all of a sudden."
"Are you jealous?" John asked, incredulous.
"It took me this long to get you, John Hamish Watson. I'm not letting you go." The taller man shoved John against the door roughly, pinned his wrists over his head with one hand and started savagely biting bruises into John's neck.
'Holy fuck!' John whimpered and turned his head to give Sherlock better access. The older of the two didn't feel self conscious about the noises Sherlock wrung from him anymore. The other man was a force of nature outside and in the bedroom. He kept his hips away from John's and the blond rutted against thin air.
Seeing this the brunette undid John's zip and freed John's prick from his pants so the doctor couldn't even get the friction from the denims. Once Sherlock was completely satisfied John wouldn't be able to hide the marks scattered across his neck if he tried the consulting detective grabbed John's chin and forced their eyes to meet. "If you don't like anything we're doing you're to tell me immediately. Do you understand?"
John nodded.
"Say it."
"Yes."
"Yes, sir." Sherlock corrected.
John's eyes fluttered closed and he arched his back. "Yes, sir." He gasped.
Sherlock was pleased he discovered one of John's kinks. "Go upstairs, put on your uniform and wait for me. Do not touch yourself. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
The brunette released his partner, opened the door and with a swat to his bottom sent John on his way.
As John thundered up the stairs Sherlock went to Rosie and his room and said into the monitor, "Mrs. Hudson you're babysitting. And this won't be quiet." He heard the volume on her radio increase. Sherlock grabbed his riding crop, handcuffs he'd stolen from Lestrade, some other toys he'd acquired over time and John's dog tags (which he'd stolen ages ago). He took the stairs two at a time to go fulfil one of his fantasies.
John couldn't believe his luck. Sherlock wanted to be dominant in this scenario. He'd always pegged the brunette for more of a submissive. He figured the man must switch depending on his mood. That suited John just fine. He'd had partners who were always submissive and it was exhausting to always be planning the scenes. Plus Sherlock hadn't asked for a safe word. John liked that. He could say no or stop without having to remember some random word. He'd never been into the rape fantasy. Of course they should probably talk about limits before doing this but the element of danger made it hotter. Plus, he trusted Sherlock. (Not that that was a real excuse.)
The blond shucked everything he was wearing and dug around for his old uniforms. They didn't fit perfectly and he couldn't find his dog tags but he had a feeling the taller man wouldn't care. Deciding pants, socks and boots were unnecessary he sat back on his heels with his hands at the back of his head and eyes down.
"Parade rest, soldier. And eyes straight ahead."
"Yes, sir." John took a little longer than he felt he should have getting up. It made him feel old.
Sherlock didn't seem to care. He undid the blond's bottoms, letting them fall around his thighs and hummed approval at the lack of pants. "You have two choices." He said from behind. "You take ten from the riding crop for scaring me. I will not be gentle."
Not interested in that much pain so close to the beginning he asked, "Or, sir?"
"Or I edge you as many times in as many ways as I see fit. You will be a pleading sobbing mess before I allow you to orgasm, soldier."
John's knees went weak as his imagination ran wild. "Oh god! The second. Please. Sir."
Sherlock faced John, face twisted in wicked delight. "Did you know I took some blood while you were sleeping?"
"Sherlock." John said disapprovingly.
"Quiet." Sherlock barked.
John glared but kept his mouth shut.
"I did this because I was impatient. The results were delivered today. We're both clean."
The blond couldn't help but shiver in delight. Still, "That was a bit not good, Sherlock."
The taller man loomed over him. "Every time you fall out of character you add to your punishment."
John scowled.
Sherlock pulled the dog tags out of his pocket and put them around John's neck. He yanked down on them when John's eyes narrowed in anger.
The chain burned and John exhaled but didn't say anything.
"Good boy." Sherlock released the tags. "Do you have any problems with being restrained?"
"No, sir."
The pickpocket put the handcuffs around John's wrists, loose enough that John wouldn't injure himself too much if he moved but tight enough he couldn't get out of them. "That ok?"
"Yes, sir."
John felt his heart swell. Sherlock cared so much. This was going to be fantastic.
Sherlock dropped to his knees and swallowed John's prick down. He hollowed his cheeks and John's hips moved forward involuntarily. The consulting detective bit lightly in warning and John nodded in understanding. Sherlock bit a little harder.
"Sorry, sir!"
The brunette hummed his approval and John winced, already desperate to move. Sherlock dragged his tongue along the bottom of John's prick and John threw his head back. The man on his knees nipped the tip of John's cock. "You can make as much noise as you want but you are to keep your eyes on me."
"Yes, sir."
Sherlock rolled his talented tongue around John's shaft. He already knew all the blond's sensitive areas and John's legs started to shake. Sherlock's eyes rolled back in pleasure as he deep throated his partner and swallowed twice.
"Sher- Sherlock! I'm gonna-! Please!" John did not want to come already.
Said man yanked on John's testicles roughly and the blond yelped.
The shorter man's legs gave out and he started to fall backwards, helpless with his hands restrained.
Luckily Sherlock predicted this and caught his lover. The taller of the two eased John to the floor. "Are you going to be a problem, solider? I can't be stopping my pleasure because you don't have control."
If this continued John knew he would come without permission in no time. "Yes, sir."
"Shame." Sherlock said, not looking at all displeased. He removed a cock ring from god knows where and rolled it down to the base of John's cock. "Is that ok?"
The restriction was painful but completely necessary. "Yes, sir."
The brunette decided to show his strength and picked his lover up, flipping him over so his arse was in the air and his face smashed into the carpet.
John couldn't move his legs up since they were caught up in fabric. Sherlock did it for him and the blond was left uncomfortable and completely exposed. He groaned in pleasure.
Sherlock had quickly developed an obsession with eating John's arsehole. (Not that John was complaining.) Instead of starting slowly and preventing the blond from becoming overwhelmed the talented genius dove right in, forcing his tongue through John's unloosened sphincter.
"Ahhh!" John slid forward.
The brunette pulled the comforter from the bed and wadded it up under John's face. The dominant man grabbed the other's hips so hard John knew he'd have bruises and dove back in. He licked, sucked and even bit until John was a quivering mess. Before the blond could beg to be taken Sherlock moved lower and started to torture the restrained man's overly sensitive testicles with sucking and licking.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" John panted when his partner moved back up and fucked the blond with his tongue. John's neck, arms, back and legs were screaming and he didn't care one whit because it was nothing compared to the pressure in his leaking prick.
Sherlock finally sat back on his knees. "Do you need something in you John?"
"Oh, god please! I need to come!"
"You need to come, what?"
"SIR! I need to come, sir!"
There was the squelching sound of lube. "I don't think you've been punished enough."
"Oh god!" John sobbed.
"Do you need to stop, soldier?"
"No, sir. I can take more."
"John." Sherlock said in warning.
"Please give me more, sir!" The request came out muffled by the comforter.
"I could never deny you."
John shouted as he was breached by a long curved vibrating plastic thing. It put pressure directly against his sensitive prostate (that was overly sensitive already). He screeched as the pressure increased when Sherlock pulled him up so he was on his knees.
"Too much?"
The blond could only shake his head with a sob. He was determined to follow through. He was in Afghanistan; he could take whatever his lover had planned for him.
Thankfully Sherlock let the inadequate response go. He moved around so he was holding John's head up by the sides of his face. "God, you're beautiful." He whispered. One handed Sherlock undid his zip.
He was still fully clothed and John realized he almost was too. It was obscene. The blond shivered and moaned.
Sherlock was still wearing pants and there was a wet spot on them. None too gently he shoved the shorter man's face to them.
John mouthed at Sherlock's prick through the expensive fabric moaning and desperately needing to feel his flesh. He'd never had direct skin contact before and the desire was more painful than his prick, which was leaking constantly. "Please." He rasped, mouth completely dry. "Please let me suck you. I need to. I need it."
The brunette yanked on John's hair wrenching a high pitched whine from the submissive. "Ask properly."
"Please, sir! Oh god!" John felt his eyes start to water as his partner forced his back to arch unnaturally.
Sherlock freed his erection, button still fastened. "I want to fuck your mouth. I want to choke you."
John shook his head as much as he could in the brunette's grip. He couldn't. Not the first time.
The consulting detective understood and held his lover up by his shoulders letting John take his time exploring. When lankly legs became weak he asked again. "Let me fuck your mouth, John."
The blond pulled off. "No. I don't-" Then he arched his back and shrieked because apparently the prostate massager in his arse was controlled with a remote. It was turned from low to what had to be the highest setting.
"I can't wait. I need to come. How do you want it?" Sherlock asked, easing John's head back down and undoing the handcuffs.
John heard the question from a distance but his arms ached. His paramour was massaging them as the blood returned and petting his back. But the vibrating didn't stop and John couldn't fall to the side now that his arms were free because Sherlock was caring for them. Tears ran down his face into the comforter.
"Shhhhh... I'm here." Sherlock said and the toy was turned to its lowest setting. "I'm here, John."
John let out a single sob.
"You done?"
"No." He croaked. He needed to come.
"What do you need?"
"I need this fucking thing off my prick and you in my ass!"
As soon as he said it Sherlock was doing it.
The ring was removed and John nearly came right then. But the toy was removed. "Please, please!" John begged as his bottoms were thrown across the room and a pillow was shoved under his hips. There was cold lube at his entrance and then finally Sherlock entered him.
"John." Sherlock whispered reverently.
"Fuck me!"
Hips snapped into the blond but not near fast or hard enough.
"I'm not gonna fucking break. Fuck me!"
John wanted to rise up on his arms to show his partner exactly what he needed but they hurt too much.
The observant man noticed and John's hips were pulled up. After no time at all the brunette savagely bit John's shoulder.
John nearly cried. He could feel Sherlock's prick stiffening in preparation to come but the shorter man wasn't there yet.
Suddenly they rolled so John was lying against Sherlock's chest and Sherlock was snapping up into John's body. A large calloused hand wrapped around the blond's painful cock, using only precome as lube.
It was perfect. John arched, screaming so loudly his throat would hurt for a week and he came so hard his semen arched over his head and hit Sherlock's cheek.
Now that he'd taken care of his partner Sherlock dug both his hands fingers around John's hips leaving more bruises as he arched, burying himself deep into his lover as he came.
John couldn't move if he wanted to. His back was pressing against the chest of his too thin paramour who must have been in pain lying with his back against the hard floor. Both of them had sweated through their clothes and John hoped he hadn't ruined one of Sherlock's favourite shirts like he most certainly had his trousers.
Sherlock's prick softened and slid out, covering his trousers and pants in even more fluids. "You ok?" He asked.
John nodded. "I think that was the best sex of my life."
"You're not sure?" The brunette teased. He was out of breath and John's weight wasn't helping anything.
The doctor was too tired to care. "Well... I'm not dead yet and next time it's my turn."
Sherlock moaned and his hips moved up feebly.
John was surprised that Sherlock would be so attentive in his after care and the blond was sure it was the reason he recovered so quickly. Still, Greg looked mortified the next time they met for a pint. John's wrists were rubbed raw, his neck was covered in love bites and his walk was stiff.
Not passing up an opportunity this good John sat down with a wince and rasped, "You're not getting your handcuffs back."
Greg spewed his drink all over the table.
++++
----
---
----
----Irene's POV----
"I take it John still hasn't called?" She dropped her bag at the door and went over to the settee Harry was perched on.
Harry shook her head. "But look." She pointed her phone at her lover. "Sherlock sent some pictures."
They were all candid shots of John taking care of Rosie. One of him feeding her, one of them staring at the fire and one of them smiling at the camera. Sherlock must have taken that one while he was pretending to text.
"She's getting big." Irene remarked. She watched as Harry winced. "You should try harder then leaving two voicemails. Does he even know you're out of rehab?" The blonde shook her head. "Does he know we're dating?"
"Yeah, right!" Harry laughed. "That'd go over well. Johnny's always been a traditionalist-"
"He's raising a baby out of wedlock with his male flatmate and they're probably currently cuddling in the room his wife was murdered in." Irene said, raising an eyebrow at her girlfriend.
Harry squirmed. "Well, when you put it like that."
Irene pecked a kiss to Harry's forehead and went to start cleaning her tools. "How'd that job interview go?" She asked while her back was turned. It would shield her lover if it had gone poorly.
"They said they'd consider me. Normally I'd be bummed but this is a really good job so the probably have a million good applicants."
"Congratulations!" Irene looked over her shoulder and grind lasciviously. "Sounds like you need a reward."
"Shower first!" Harry demanded. "I'll wait upstairs!"
Irene left what she could to soak and went to shower. She couldn't have hidden the bounce in her step if she tried.
Sometimes it wasn't punishment people needed. Oftentimes positive reinforcement worked so much better.
End A/N: Sometimes Mrs. Hudson takes Rosie for a sleepover at Molly's. ;)
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Sherlock and John and Rosie (and Mrs. Hudson too)