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Elle's Story	By : Cozygoma-lover Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3522 -:- 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
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COMPLETE - Hello all Sherlock fanfiction readers. To clarify things: firstly, most of these characters belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's estate, the BBC, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. I do not own any part of the franchise and will not gain from this financially. It was my initial intention to write "Johnlock style" - see YouTube "Johnlock FEVER" by Liz Jessie (wow Liz!) or "Sherlock & John: Is this love or just sexual desire?" by KiArEttA276 (superbly spliced) but couldn't quite do so.
Secondly, for this story, Benedict Cumberbatch is Sherlock Holmes, Martin Freeman is John Watson, and the other main characters follow the rest of the exceptional stellar BBC cast. The OCs are mine, devised by me. My story starts after season 3 episode 3, but no baby Watson. You will see why.
This became far more explicit than expected. If you enjoy it let me know. Depending on opinions of explicit fanfiction, it gets better, or worse!! 133,000+ words, 38 chapters. This has been written as a novel. ENJOY
I have seen other stories which list the chapters that have sexual content within them. As that constitutes the bulk of this story I have created a chapter code: no x = no sex (5 chapters only, all significant to plot) xxxxx = lots of sex, oral etc. You have been warned.
Please review and let me know if you liked it! Now just looking for inspiration for a new story....
1. The case
Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes smiled. He enjoyed seeing the effects of yet another pleased and happy client. Ms Lavinia Jensen had called upon his services to discover the whereabouts of her boss, the only other person in a small but well renowned London PR agency. After handling three quite high-profile cases, two of which involved celebrities in the news facing allegations of tax avoidance - neither case proved and therefore both very lucrative, Mr Michelson had disappeared like a thief in the night. All the signs to the untrained eye pointed to abduction, possibly even murder. Ms Jensen had contacted Mr Holmes to investigate for her after not hearing from her colleague then finding an horrific sight.
"Thank you very much Mr Holmes. It did not make any sense to me that a man such as Colin Michelson should disappear so suddenly. I thought he was dead, after seeing that pool of blood. Now it all fits; the hidden documents, phones being slammed down in haste when I walked into the room, covert emailing from an account unregistered to the business. Who would have known? I don't know whether to be relieved or dismayed."
With the possibility of a grizzly murder to solve Sherlock Holmes had been in his element. Working with the Met, buzzing around the potential crime scene like an over-stimulated hornet, he was checking this, examining that, analysing all the different options one by one. Then he cracked it. After three days looking for a potential case-blowing clue, something his colleague Doctor John Watson had said in passing months ago came back to him about the ultimate way for a 'professional to make someone disappear'. Holmes suddenly started to look at the case as if Michelson had planned the whole thing. With a change of name, hundreds of thousands of pounds in off-shore bank accounts, and a new passport to aid him to make his escape, Holmes concluded Mr Michelson must be trying to flee the country, faking his own abduction or death in the process.
With swift aplomb Holmes had requested all flights from Heathrow and Gatwick be checked for any man in his late fifties, travelling alone, to the Philippines, Malaysia or Hong Kong, one way with only carry-on luggage and a passport dated within the last six months. Seven men in the next 48 hours fitted all Holmes' criteria, two were found to be drug smugglers, and then there he was, Heathrow to Kuala Lumpur, Mr Michelson, now under pseudonym Mr Henry Stonebridge, escaping the cold early March evenings of London for the sunshine of Malaysia.
How had Mr Holmes deduced the abduction/murder was fake? Holmes had asked DI Lestrade if he could gather a few samples of the blood from the victim's office. On the premise he could get what he wanted himself without further contamination of the scene this was agreed. Through the powerful microscope at Bart's Hospital he had noticed there was something radically wrong with the red cells in some of his collections of blood. They had distinctly shattered. From this and other 'not interesting to anyone other than his inquisitive brain' anomalies he deduced the majority of the blood had been previously stored in a frozen condition then thawed and spread with some fresh blood to amass a pool large enough to convince the uninitiated of wrong-doing of one person to another. Holmes had concluded that as the blood was faked he should look into details considering Michelson as the perpetrator of his own disappearance and other factors fell into place.
With medium-length, curly dark titian hair Lavinia Jensen was a woman in her forties. Striking in appearance, quick-witted and mentally astute, there was something of familiarity about her to Sherlock. Intrigued by the client in front of him he spent far more time explaining how he had reached his conclusions to her than he realised he had on any previous occasion.
Ms Jensen was overawed with this account and now, knowing her kind, generous and artful boss had been nothing less than a charlatan and a thief distressed her intensely. Back in 221B Baker Street Holmes had taken her through the breakdown of Michelson's misdemeanour, why those particular destinations had been targeted by his deductions, and most, but not all, of the other details of the case. She was fascinated. Asking about a dozen of the right questions she had let Holmes explain, rapt with full attention to both story and the ethereal man telling it.
On her eighth or ninth visit to Baker Street, to finally pay her bill, Ms Jensen eventually asked "Mr Holmes, would you allow me to show my personal gratitude by taking you to dinner this evening? I feel I would like to thank you for allaying my fears of a man I cared for and worked with for the past three years lying dead, and instead exposing him as a thief. I still cannot believe it!"
"Do you like Cantonese food?" Holmes asked. She answered in the affirmative. "There is an excellent Chinese just a few minutes' walk away from here. I remember taking John, err, my colleague Dr John Watson, there after working our first case together. They have superb Dim Sum."
"Sounds perfectly ideal, thank you," replied the lady.
Perhaps it was because his best friend was now a married man but it seemed to have been many months since Sherlock Holmes had eaten a meal in a restaurant with only one other person. He had been out many times in recent months with John, but when out with John now there was usually Mary also. He did not mind this in the slightest. He had grown to adore Mary. She made John so happy so he was happy with her company too. He, of course, would not count the occasional dining with Mycroft: one doesn't when it is a relative, especially an overbearing elder brother who always chooses the where and when regardless of the reason for their liaison. Fair enough though, he guessed, as he inevitably paid.
John Watson still worked alongside Sherlock wherever possible, but due to a particularly prevalent strain of winter norovirus, Dr Watson was working in his other guise as a locum whilst a number of the doctors at the practice he had worked at previously succumbed to the bug. Sherlock, however, missed him being there day to day and this period had been all the more difficult as cases had been scarce and the over-intelligent, over-active cerebral brain of Sherlock Holmes had accepted a 'possible' murder - more likely abduction - case, purely through boredom.
Nearly three hours later and well passed midnight Sherlock offered to take Ms Jensen ["Please call me Elle"] home. She explained she lived in a large town house in Kew with two girl friends and felt it was too late to travel that far tonight: she would stay at one of the lesser London hotels. On Holmes ["Please call me Sherlock"] asking about clothes and essentials Elle explained she carried her 'emergency pack' in her behemoth black tote bag for such occasions as laying over in the City, a regular occurrence due to her role, and because she frequented the West End regularly, and has ["I mean had"] a change of clothes at the office in case of accident or incident. As she no longer had an office or clothes to return to, thanks to the police turning the place inside out and taking all of its contents as evidence, that option had now been scuppered. She no longer had a job either.
Impressed with the organisation of this very intriguing woman Sherlock offered her the spare room in his place - John now lived in his marital home with Mary in Hampstead - so long as they could still sit and talk. This was accepted gladly and with a call to a late night Anderson's mini-mart store nearby, a bottle of Champagne and three bottles of fresh orange juice were bought, the pair of them returned to Baker Street.
Neither Elle nor Sherlock would be classed as heavy drinkers, outside an occasional glass of wine with a meal, so Bucks Fizz - leaning more in the way of Bucks than the fizzy bit - was the drink of the evening. Still talking to nearly dawn Sherlock had been relieved he had just finished a case as four o'clock had been and bade them goodbye long before the two separated to sleep.
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