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Sherlock's Woman	By : Leloi Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3104 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock BBC or make any money from him or his universe... and they are fictional characters.

Chapter List
- 1-Sherlock's Woman
- 1
“THE woman? Why must you call her ‘The Woman?’ At most she is A woman, but certainly NOT ‘The’ one and ONLY.” Dr. Joan Watson fumed, sitting at the desk, blogging about hers and Sherlock’s most recent case. “I don’t understand, Sherl… what’s the big deal?”

Sherlock, for his part, seemed to be ignoring his flat mate, intent instead on his microscope.

Joan sat back in the chair and glared at her partner. “Earth to Sherlock, come in Sherlock.”

Sherlock changed his slide and continued with his work.

Joan got up from the desk and approached her friend. “Is it because she showed you her tits? Is THAT why she is THE Woman to you?”

Sherlock continued his work.

Joan frowned and crossed her arms over her own meager chest. Years of physical training for military combat reduced her cup size. Joan might not have been as curvy as Irene Adler but she had muscle and strength to take down a full grown man without a horse whip. “Look… I may not have tits and a perky arse but at least I’ve got personality! If you’re attracted to girly bimbos with manicures and riding crops… fine then! See if I care!”

Sherlock’s silence continued but a small frown caught on his lips.

With a sigh Joan bent forward, sticking her face in Sherlock’s. “Want to see my tits too?” Standing up she pulled up her tee shirt to reveal the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “There you go! Gorgeous, aren’t they?” Feeling more than a little cheeky Joan turned to show the CCTV that she knew Mycroft used to spy on them. “How about you, Mycroft?”

Finally Sherlock cracked, letting out a short snort of laughter.

“Like what you see, Mycroft Holmes?” Joan teased the camera. Removing her tee shirt she headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower. Try and contain your excitement, Mr. Holmes.”

The door to the bathroom shut and Sherlock allowed his giggle to escape.

^.~

Joan threw herself at Sherlock’s attacker, locking her arm around the man’s throat. “Let go of him! I will use lethal force! Let him go!” Panic and worry was cast aside for the cool, hard logic of hand to hand combat against someone thrice her size.

The bad guy was distracted enough by Joan to allow Sherlock to slip away from his meaty grip, intent instead on the woman dangling from his back. “I’ll kill you, bitch! I’ll rip you apart!” Bowing forward he threw the doctor from his back.

Joan caught herself and used her momentum to get back up, trying to bring attention to herself so that her partner could gain the upper hand, unnoticed. “Tough words for a hired goon.”

The goon came at her like a freight train. With a swift kick she caught him in the groin and he crumbled to the ground, moaning lightly.

Silently Sherlock passed her the gun and she fixed it on their attacker, waiting for Scotland Yard to catch up.

The goon continued to make a high pitched wavering tone as he was carted away and Lestrade smirked at the former Army surgeon. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“Really, Greg…” With a grin and wink she glanced at where Sherlock stood annoying those around him.

“You can’t always protect him.” Lestrade’s eyes had followed her glance.

“I can try. The female of the species is more deadly than the male.”

Lestrade gave a small shiver. “Yeah? Well… you take care of him. You’re good for him, Joan. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

With a sigh, Joan looked down at the ground. “Are you sure it’s not Adler’s influence on him? She did mess him up quite a bit. You remember that Christmas…”

“No… it’s you. He’s been softening long before he met Adler. I’d say from the moment you moved in with him.”

“Joan!” Sherlock called as he approached. “We’re going!”

“Take good care of her, Sherlock. You don’t want some other bloke getting a hold of her, do you?”

Joan laughed and teasingly slapped Lestrade on the arm. “Stop that!”

“Yes. Stop that.” Sherlock echoed leading his partner away.

Lestrade grinned knowingly as he watched the pair leave.

^.~

Joan stood before the mirror, mobile pressed to her ear. “You’ve got to be joking, Mycroft…” Her eyes went to her reflection, showing her in a dress with some makeup. “But I have a date tonight…” With a sigh she closed her eyes and turned away from the mirror. “I understand. I’ll take care of it.” With a frown she turned off the phone before dialing another number. “Sorry, Martin… something’s come up. I can’t make it tonight.” The other person’s voice became louder and Joan pulled the phone away from her ear. “I told you I’m sorry… can I make it up to you?” More yelling on the line before Joan sighed. “Fine… Goodbye then.” Shutting off her phone she took another look at herself before unzipping the dress and kicking it off. Kicking off her heels she added a bathrobe and headed downstairs to the bathroom to wash her face.

Sherlock caught a glimpse of her before she entered the bathroom.

Annoyed with him she stopped and sat on her chair, feet tucked under her. “Your brother called.”

“Is that why you canceled your date?”

“Martin broke up with me when I called him to cancel.”

“All he wanted was to sleep with you.” Sherlock replied.

Joan stood up, glaring at her flat mate. “Maybe that’s what I wanted too!” Stomping off to the bathroom she slammed the door. Joan cried as she washed her face. Ever since she joined the army men didn’t want her any more. She was just “one of the guys.” It didn’t help that selfish Sherlock made her love life non-existent.

The bathroom door opened and Sherlock stepped in.

Hastily Joan wiped her face with a towel, leaving it red from washing with mascara smudges under her eyes. “Can’t I have some privacy in the bathroom?” Noticing that her robe was half open, revealing her lacey panties and bra, she covered herself.

“You missed some mascara.”

“Yeah? Well I was interrupted.”

“You’ve been crying.”

“It’s just one of my weaker traits as you enjoy pointing out.” Joan replied, bending over the sink to continue washing her face.

“He’s not worthy of you.”

Finishing up her washing she wiped her face again to face him. “Why won’t you let me be the judge of that, Sherlock? You’ve chased away every single guy that’s asked me out. Did you know that? Every single guy! I hate to break it to you but it’s not like I have many options to begin with. No one really wants to date this!” She indicated her body. “But on the rare occasion that they do…”

“They might get you pregnant.” Sherlock replied impatiently.

“Why does that matter?”

“You couldn’t… anymore…”

Joan glared at him. “Is THAT why you won’t let me date? I might get pregnant and then we wouldn’t be able to work together on cases anymore? You… you selfish GIT!” Joan moved past him but was caught. “Let go!”

Sherlock pulled her close, one hand clutching her wrist and the other wrapped around her back, chin on the crown of her head.

Joan stopped struggling and allowed him to hold her. “Stop it… you’re just doing this… to keep me from leaving. You don’t really mean it. Mycroft told me what happened with Irene… that you’re incapable of love. You’re checking my pulse right now, aren’t you? Trying to determine whether or not you can manipulate me by using my own feelings against me? Maybe if you hug me or kiss me I won’t walk away… is that what you’re thinking? Mycroft told me… he told me…”

Sherlock shivered and held Joan tighter, releasing her wrist to wrap both arms around her, his face nuzzled against her shoulder and neck.

Joan leaned against him for several minutes, feeling the heat of his body against her. “Alright… I’m your friend. I care about you. I’m not going to just walk away. I know tonight is a danger night. Let me get dressed and we’ll sit in the living room together. I’ll make you some tea. Do you want some tea, Sherlock?”

“No.” Sherlock whispered against her neck, breathing in her scent.

“What are you doing?” Joan asked with amusement, turning her head to try and look at him.

“I’m cataloging your scent.” Sherlock replied.

“I don’t think anyone has ever cataloged my scent before. I hope I smell alright.”

“You smell like your shampoo… lotion… deodorant… soap… pheromones.”

“Pheromones?” Joan chuckled.

Sherlock’s tongue took a lingering taste of the base of Joan’s neck.

Joan nearly fell over, surprised at his action. “You… you LICKED me!”

“I tasted you. Salt… you’ve been nervous since your shower and have perspired just a bit.”

“Gee… I wonder why.” Joan replied. “It’s hardly fair. I can’t reach your neck to taste you back.”

Sherlock pulled back to look down at her, his pupils blown wide. For a long time they stared at each other. Finally Sherlock pulled open the robe and pushed it off of Joan’s shoulders, revealing her black lace bra. His eyes stayed on his companion’s. Fingers untied the belt and let the robe fall to the floor. His hands rested on her hips. “You’re attracted to me. I can see all the little signs in you. Your pulse, your eyes… your pheromones.”

Joan chuckled and broke eye contact, resting her head on his chest. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“I need you to stay.” The detective’s lips nibbled at her ear.

“I told you… I know it’s a danger night for you. I won’t abandon you.”

“I let Mycroft believe that so he would call you.”

Joan frowned and pushed him away. “You faked it to break up my date?”

Sherlock blinked in surprise, shocked she could deduce his motive.

“That’s really low of you, Sherlock Holmes!” Joan growled, bending over to pick up her robe before leaving the bathroom. Struggling a moment she managed to pull the robe back on as she headed for the door to the stairs.

Sherlock was quicker and caught her around the waist, carrying her back to the couch where he deposited her.

“You bastard!” Joan tried to push him away but he was kneeling between her knees, arms stretched out on either side of her.

“Don’t leave me. Joan, please...” Sherlock stated quietly. “Look at me.” His hand touched her cheek, trying to guide her eyes to meet his. His thumb lightly caressed her cheek. “Joan, look at me.”

With a glare she finally settled down.

“Why do you need them? You just want some guy to fuck you? Is that all you want? You… I… I’ll do it for you. If that’s what you need I’ll do it for you.”

“You… can’t be serious.” Joan breathed.

Sherlock pulled his hands away and unbuckled his belt, opening his trousers and pushing them down his thighs along with his underwear. Awkwardly he continued to kneel before her.

Joan glanced down at his erection, surprised to see him so ready for something he must have planned on a whim. “Sherlock…”

“I’m not big enough for you?”

“No! It’s not that…” Joan bit her lip. “You don’t love me like that.”

“You think those other men will? At least I want you to stay… I need you to stay here with me.”

Joan chuckled a bit. “Mycroft told me you are a virgin. You’d give that up… for me?”

Hesitantly he reached out to stroke her cheek again, leaning forward as his lips ghosted against hers.

Joan touched his lips with her finger. “Mycroft is watching.”

Sherlock glanced at the camera and then back at her. “My room?”

Joan stared back at him, trying to read his unreadable expression. Finally she shook her head. “There’s no need to get involved in my pity party. Give me 15 minutes to use my vibrator and I’ll be right back down. We can watch telly.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows lifted, showing a hint of concern.

“Just 15 minutes. Then I’ll get dressed and we can watch some Bond. We’re on ‘License to Kill,’ aren’t we?”

Sherlock shook his head. “I… I don’t… No.” His arms wrapped around her body and he sat back onto the floor, pulling her to straddle his lap. The crotch of her lace panties scratched at him but he didn’t care. “Is this how it’s done? Do you need me to… to…?” The question was left hanging as he leaned in and began to nuzzle at her nipple through the lace. “Interesting…” His breath warmed the budding flesh.

“Is that what I am right now? An experiment?” Joan grunted, arching her back against the front of the couch.

His lips went to her neck, nose breathing deep her scent. “Let me analyze. You just enjoy it. Tell me if I get it wrong.” His fingertips slid down her belly to her hips, tickling at the edge of her panties.

With a gasp Joan looked down, noticing how hard he was pressed against her as his fingers experimentally dipped under the edge of her underwear. Nervously she looked to the corner of the room that held the camera. “Please… not in front of your brother. Sherlock?”

Sherlock nodded and pulled them both up from the floor. Taking her hand he led her to his bedroom and closed the door behind them. His eyes stayed on her as he finished undressing.

Removing her robe, Joan unclasped her bra and stepped out of her panties. Sitting on the edge of the bed she looked away, hands in her lap, her face scarlet with embarrassment.

“You’re unsure of yourself.” Sherlock began, approaching the bed to stand before her. “Why would I be standing here before you? What can you possibly offer me that Irene or Molly haven’t already? True, Irene has the body and Molly has the femininity that you lack. And yet I stand here with you. What is it? I see I touched a nerve. Your posture reveals your insecurity about your own femininity. You ask yourself what you can possibly offer me?” His hand lightly touched her face. “Joan, look at me.”

Shyly Joan returned her gaze to Sherlock, her face still red.

“I have only one person I can rely on… who has followed me through every danger and who has never left my side. This is just one more adventure.” Leaning down he lightly kissed her on the cheek. “Show me what to do.”

Joan wrapped her arms around his neck and scooted back on the bed, guiding him to crawl up on top of her.

His eyes darted here and there, taking in details as to their position and her reactions to him. Sherlock allowed her to turn him over onto his back. His hands rested on her hips as she straddled him. His eyes closed when she leaned down to kiss his lips. His breath caught when they came together. And then for once he let his mind go blank.

^.~

Joan woke warm. It was still early morning but the sun was up. Turning over she smiled at her bed partner. His face was slack with sleep and he looked as sweet and innocent as he had been the previous night. Gently she pushed the curls away from his forehead and kissed him. Pale grey eyes opened and blinked at her so she smiled. “I have to get ready for work.”

“Mmm…” Sherlock mumbled, wrapping his arm around her waist and closing his eyes again.

“I will be back this evening. Shall I bring home take away?”

His arms tightened around her as he rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him. Opening his eyes one hand caressed her cheek in silence, staring at her.

Joan smiled and lay back down, her head on his chest. “Maybe I should call in sick… if that’s what you’d prefer.” Her knees rested on either side of him and she could feel his morning erection trapped beneath her. “So… what did you think of it? Does it live up to the hype?”

“The endorphins released are overwhelming. I understand why they can be so addictive.” Sherlock replied, moving his hips a bit. “Similar to the rush one gets from a case.”

Joan chuckled softly. “Donovon once told me you get sexually stimulated by cases.”

“You do too. Chasing down bad guys with nothing but our brains… you enjoy it too, Joan Watson. It thrills you.”

“I do. But I enjoy this too.” Casually she ground her pelvis against his.

Eyebrows raised, Sherlock smirked at her.

Leaning forward she kissed his lips tenderly before sitting up, guiding him into her. They both moaned in unison as he slipped in. “Better than being bored, eh?”

“I find I have little control over my body with your stimulation.”

“Is that bad?”

“Other women have tried to stimulate me with negative results. Why is that? Is it because you share my work? My life? What sets you apart from one of them?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” Internally she squeezed him with a kegel.

Sherlock cried out and sat up, wrapping his arms around her, he tried to pull her closer.

“What? That little kegel?” Joan smiled and did it again.

“God, woman! You’ll be the end of me!” Rolling them over he writhed, his movements unskilled and just a little wild. Of course it didn’t take him long to throw back his head and cry out. Limply he rested atop her as she held him and kissed his cheek.

“Does this mean you want to do this again every so often?” Her fingers played with his curls and she scratched his scalp.

His body curled around hers, his face burrowing into her neck. “No one should have this much control over me.”

“I don’t want to control you, Sherlock. I never have. I care about you… but I don’t expect anything in return.” Her hands caressed his back, running fingertips up his spine. “And yes, I’m just some sentimental fool… I’ll probably love you until the day I die.” Her lips kissed his ear. “We don’t have to do this ever again. And you can choose your own lovers. I’ll try not to be jealous.”

Sherlock gave a small chuckle.

“Even if some masked woman with a whip and high heels snogs you until you’re…”

Sherlock didn’t allow her to finish. His lips were on hers and he kissed her into silence, rolling off of her to pull her against his side. Pulling away he grinned. “Do you have a whip and high heels?”

Joan laughed, tapping him on the chest. “Not ME! I was talking about your imaginary future lover!”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Sherlock stretched and got up from the bed to head to the loo. “No other woman can touch me.”

“Aren’t I special?” Joan mused, leaning against the pillows with her knees up.

A few minutes later Sherlock returned and sat on the bed. “And if I get you pregnant then you’re stuck with me for life!” With a grin he settled himself onto the bed.

“Oh god!” Joan moaned as she got up from the bed. “I’m on the pill!”

“Imagine a Mini-Me!”

“I’m not listening!”

“Holmes children are a terror unto themselves!”

“La la la la… Not listening!”

Sherlock continued to giggle, waiting for his Joan to return to him. As he waited he took out his mobile and sent a text to Mycroft. “Joan Watson requires Holmes family clearance.”

Mycroft’s answer was prompt. “It’s about bloody time!”

The End
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Sherlock's Woman