I do not own Sherlock, this is the BBC version. Arthur Conan Doyle owns Sherlock Holmes and all the characters. BBC made the program and are making the money. I am but a fan of this pairing, and make no money from writing this. It contains massive spoilers for the ending of 'The blind banker' which I've alternated.
Note- The part about the tiger was lamely written, I hope the grammer doesn't put many people off and I just hope you enjoy this. Thank you.
Pairing: John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, slight mention of John Watson/Sarah
This story was meant to be a one-shot, so that's why the chapter is written like this. If you like it to remain a one-shot please don't read beyond this chapter x
It shouldn't have turned out like this.
Sarah's eyes squeezed shut as the latch unbuckled a fraction of a second away from launching the large arrow. I could hear Sherlock's struggle with the Chinese man as I fell forward. I didn't think, I honestly didn't think. Who would of thought? It was her fate. It was undecided, avoidable. Pushing the point recklessly away from Sarah at the last moment, why didn't I consider the possibility of hurting him?
Time slowed down. Sherlock's arms wound round his waist as legs kicked out desperately, his half lidded eyes as his head lifted at my sudden movement, his teeth gritted as he struggled to hold the man upright. And then the arrow flew through the air and slammed straight through the man's stomach, eyes widened with shock a raspy intake of breath and then he went still, his body limp. Sarah cried, cried in relief as she realised that everything was seemingly over.
It was over; her life would remain boring for the rest of her days. But not with me.
Because in that moment the Chinese man slumped forward; I saw him. Eyes open wide with shock for a split moment before dulling, a peaceful expression touched gracefully on his features. Blood spilled down his lips and his hair moved across his eyes as he fell backwards. Anyone would have said he looked like a fallen angel. And then... time sped up.
"SHERLOCK!" The words erupted both through my body and out of my mouth; tears were already running down my cheeks. Why? Why? WHY! WHY! I ran towards him not bothering to untie Sarah or spare a look at the other man.
Blood gushed from the large wound in the lower part of his stomach. His eyes flickered to my relief and words proceeded to follow only to be choked on by the uprising of blood. Ripping my shirt, I pushed my hand against the wound. With a shaking hand I pulled out my mobile and punched in a couple of nines.
Sherlock Holmes never cried, nor did he smile or laugh, it would take someone with a great understanding of crime to break Sherlock or someone that got too close to the said man. His eyes filled with anger, his body shaking as I appeared in the doorway Sarah long gone. He didn't even look at my face instead he glanced down at my muddy shoes.
"The coat she wore today was made from the white tiger, not something that you could pick up from just anywhere and much too expensive for her salary. Real enough, the fur was skinned with a thin knife, 5 inches to be exact. The inner layer has a thin fabric possibly linen, this reduces any weight other than the fur itself, skinning the white tiger is illegal"Rage shook me.
"So now you'll suspect my girlfriend of a crime?" I yelled throwing the apartment keys onto the table and pulling off my wet shoes.
"Girlfriend? So that's what you'll calling her now, Is it? Next you'll be moving in with her." Sherlock spat pushing his gaze onto me.
"Maybe I should, at least then I wouldn't have to run around for you. Better yet I might just go" I didn't know what had come over me but suddenly I was flinging stuff into an open suitcase. T-shirts, trousers, pairs of mismatched socks. Like I said time sped forward.
It all happened so fast.
Sherlock was at the doorway blocking my exit, his eyes bore down into mine so intensely that my body burned and shivers ran down my spine. Still, I tried to push past him, but his arm shot out and slammed against the wall.
"You try to leave... and I'll do something I might regret." His face remained neutral yet the words were somewhat spoke in a threatening tone. I should have submitted to that fate, yet I became angry, he was treating me like a child, he couldn't confine me against my will. Shoving him, Sherlock fell back against the wall. Time slows down here.
Wild dark locks fell over his eyes as I passed him, his mouth opened slightly as he took in a shaky breath. Then I felt his arm reach out and grab mine roughly, my suitcase flew out of my arm as he yanked me back through the doorway and then threw me onto the bed.
I sat up quickly, noticing the taller man was losing his scarf and quickly unbuttoning his shirt.
"What the hel-" I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence because he was now on top of me, his breath heavy and his eyes held shame but at the same time excitement and something else. Was this some kind of a sick joke? "Sherlock..." I whispered, my heart was racing, my body was tingling and my lips were suddenly very dry. For a brief moment his eyes found mine and there was just silence as he leaned down.
For one moment our lips were just a few inches away, hovering over each other. I groaned, never had this felt so intense, never did I want something so much.
"I'm sorry..." Sherlock whispered and then his lips gently pressed against my own. It was a shy kiss, both hesitant and filled with so much desire. As he pulled away, his eyes were half-lidded and the sight of my flushed features quickly brought a groan from his lips and his form descended upon me. The feeling of his hand sliding under my shirt, the toying of my nipples, the cry from my lips. It was like a passing dream. And then we were both naked. Sherlock pale, me slightly tanned from the days in the war.
Sherlock wasn't scared as he moved down and took my erection into his mouth. He was quite inexperienced, not letting anyone close to him after all, but it was still perfect. His perfect hair laced by my gripping fingers, his perfect eyes half shut but glimmering with lust and need, his perfect mouth brought screams from my own and the shake of a releasing organ. He pulled back licking his lips and scooping up trails running down the sides of his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.
And then once again he was on top of me, brushing back my sweaty blonde hair and tucking some behind my ears. He was perfect, flawless. He kissed me so passionately as his hand trailed downwards and my body lifted from the bed. His fingers moved, yet his eyes never did. There were not words, no 'are you sure?'s , no 'this might hurt', as he entered me all I wanted was his arms around me, his eyes never off me and his perfectness never flawing. I heard my name from his lips and a warmth released then refilled me. Then the bed stopped moving and only our desperate pants and moaning filled the heated air.
The next day I didn't wake up next to Sherlock, and everything went on like nothing had happened.
It felt like hours until the ambulance arrived. The police untied Sarah and straight away she ran to embrace me, covering herself in his blood. They wanted to ask us questions, questions about what happened. Nobody seemed to bother caring that Sherlock Holmes was being lifted into the back of a Ambulance, nobody spared him a look; nobody cared as I followed him into the ambulance and held his hand, not even Sarah.
It was where I belonged. Holding his hand, looking deep into his eyes. Because when Sherlock looked down at me that day, it wasn't lust in those eyes it was loneliness. The great Sherlock Holmes was lonely. He didn't give a damn about pleasure, but he wanted me to stay... no, he needed me to stay. Because before Sherlock met me, the only company he had were the bodies as dead as him, or the people that hated him or lacked understanding. Nobody would pass him his pen, or listen to him play his violin, nobody liked him enough to stay in the same room as him without being scared.
Enter me a Ex-Medic shot in the war. Already sent down a corrupted road, without a thanks except for a bullet in the shoulder. So if corrupted? Why not share the same corrupted route with somebody you love?
Thanks for reading, I hope it was okay.
Special thanks to Aqua-lily6 for pointing out that John got shot in the Shoulder and not the leg _ If I make any mistakes please don't be afraid to point them out I usually make them, seriously I thought Sarah's name was Mary so I had to change the names XD