Resolution and Capitulation

Chapter three

By phaedraphelan

Word count: 5,500

Summary: Now that Sherlock and Joan have come to terms with their feelings for one another, how will this impact the other people around them and how will they manage to have a personal life as a couple.

Disclaimer: Elementary is the artistic property of CBS and no infringement is intended.

Sherlock and Joan quickly found themselves helpless in the face of their need for each other. Their previous relationship had given such an intimate knowledge of each other's minds that now adding the physical aspect made them completely aware of each other on another deeper level and this made it almost impossible to resist each other. This was going to prove to be difficult for them. They came face-to-face with this reality on the afternoon when they had finally finished the working the latest handbag shop murder case and were at the brownstone discussing it. Kitty was there at first, but then remembered an errand she needed to take care of in Manhattan.

Sherlock sat staring at Joan as she stood at the sink getting water for making tea and he found himself overwhelmed with desire. He suddenly stood up and came behind her and put his hands upon her hips as he pressed against her, letting his hands run up and down the sides of her body.

"Joan, I need you in the worst way. Working with you through last night only made it worse than ever. I was distracted I fear . . . needing you so badly then . . . and now."

He lifted her hair from her shoulders and kissed that spot beneath her ear that he loved and then he groaned and began to push his body passionately against hers, pushing her pants and her panties down so that he could touch her soft flesh. When he sought to touch her intimately, Joan gave way to him, allowing him access to her parts, and moaned softly, as he turned her to face him.

"Oh, Sherlock . . . Yes . . ."

"Joan, luv, set me free . . . please," he begged.

Joan loosened his pants and it was all over. He groaned passionately as he caught her up so that she wrapped her legs around his hips as he came into her there against the kitchen counter. They quickly found their rhythm and were lost in each other standing in the brownstone's kitchen at nine in the morning, grunting and moaning as they had intercourse there.

"Yes, Sherlock . . . Yes!" Joan gasped and sighed over and over.

"I love you, Joan! I love you! Oh, God!" Sherlock cried in ecstasy as his pelvis began to jerk in powerful spasms. "Dear God! This is the only truth I know!"

At that moment Kitty came back to the brownstone because she had forgotten an item she needed for her errand. Sherlock and Joan were so caught up in each other that they didn't hear her come in and Kitty was momentarily stunned to walk upon them so fully involved sexually.

"Oh, excuse me. I-I'm sorry."

"Leave us, please," Sherlock implored hoarsely, shielding Joan from Kitty's view when he realized they were not alone, but Kitty had already vanished in the face of the full-blown intimacy between them.

Sherlock and Joan could not move for the moment, caught, as they were, in their lovers' embrace. Finally they eased their grip on one another and Joan let her legs down from his hips and breathed a sigh of relief. Sherlock smoothed her clothes awkwardly back into place as Joan tried to push him back into his trousers.

"We should retire to the bedroom, luv. I dare say we are not finished here yet," Sherlock murmured softly.

Sherlock picked Joan up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom, kicked the door closed behind them, tossed Joan on top of it, pulled the rest of her clothes off, pushed her legs wide apart and quickly mounted her on his bed.

"Ooh, Sherlock . . . Sherlock, baby . . . Ooh!" Joan cried out, ravished.

He was consumed with his passions, attacking Joan's mouth with his kisses, thrusting into her with all his power till they came to an orgasm so strong that it left them both breathless.

"Oh, dear God, please forgive me! I can't help myself with you, Joan. I love you so much! Forgive my roughness, Joan! Please! I was so aroused by you!"

Sherlock saw Kitty later the next day and dealt with the matter forthrightly.

"Kitty, unfortunately you caught Joan and myself unawares at an inopportune moment. I sincerely regret this and we will endeavor to be more discreet in the future."

Sherlock flushed in spite of himself, rolling his eyes in his characteristic manner and Kitty simply kept her head down, unable to look him In the eye.

"It was beautiful . . . what I saw between you, not like anything I have ever seen between a man and a woman . . . the words, the way she was saying 'yes' to you and the way you were callin' her name. You really do love each other. It's not just screwin' with you two, is it?"

Sherlock took a deep breath before answering her.

"No, Kitty, it is not just coitus," Sherlock sighed, stating it as a fact.

Kitty nodded and left the room.

Later Joan and Kitty spoke on the same matter after they had been at the rape crisis group meeting.

"You and Sherlock have a real case of it, eh?"

Joan hesitated before replying to Kitty, trying to come up with a plausible response and finally simply spoke the truth.

"Yes, Kitty, we do. I am truly sorry you caught us unawares yesterday.

"It hurt me when that pervert forced himself on me, Watson. Every single time he did it he hurt me. But it was different with you and Sherlock, wasn't it? It was good, what he was doing to you, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Kitty, it was . . . wonderful . . . because I know that he loves me and the way he was with me let me know that he loved me and cared for me as a woman, as a person. I wanted him that same way. When you love a man, Kitty, you both want to be as close as is humanly possible. But unless the love is there, it is not a beautiful thing."

"He loves you. I could tell by the way he called your name. He was calling to God when he came. I never heard Sherlock call on God, but I heard him calling out before I came into the room. I did not know what was happening till I saw your legs wrapped around him and his pants coming off his hairy bum. I'm sorry to have barged in like that. You were both completely gone, Watson."

"Yes, we were, Kitty." Joan flushed in embarrassment as she remembered the state Kitty had found her in with Sherlock.

"You know, you two need to move back in together. Nowadays you are both always lookin' like you want to jump on each other. And you keep messin' with him and you're gonna get pregnant. I hope you are taking the pill," Kitty said with the sageness of a woman twice her age.

"You are right and I am," Joan answered simply. It was true.

Joan flushed, remembering the moment that Kitty described, recalling her very passionate Sherlock that morning as they stood joined in coitus in front of the kitchen sink. She had been unable to collect herself at that moment and when she knew anything, she was hearing Sherlock's voice begging Kitty to leave them be.

When she later recounted the conversation to Sherlock, she found it difficult to discuss the matters involving Sherlock and herself without it affecting her.

"She thinks she needs to find her own place because we need . . . privacy," Joan said blushing slightly in that way that Sherlock found adorable.

Sherlock found himself unable to speak about their newfound relationship without his own heart starting to throb in his chest.

"She's right, luv. I will not impede her from doing that if that is what she wishes. Don't you believe that you and I need to live together again, I mean live together as man and woman, Joan?"

"Yes, I guess that I do."

"I can't bear to be away from you . . . at night . . . or in the morning . . or anytime for that matter, Joan. I need to know at the end of every day that I will be in bed with you."

"She told me that I should be careful, as she put it, 'messing' with you because I will get pregnant if I'm not careful. Imagine, she acted like she was my mother!"

"Do you fear that I'm going to impregnate you, Joan?" Sherlock stared at Joan in that way of his that made her warm all over as he drew her into his arms.

"I am taking the pill. Sometimes when we are together I wish that I weren't."

"Hum, that was one of the recurring dreams I had when we were apart."

"What, Sherlock? What did you dream?"

"I dreamed that I had made you pregnant, that you were carrying our wee one. You were beautiful, full here in your belly." He rubbed Joan's flat belly gently and her eyes filled with tears. "I must ask you something that I never thought I would ask. If I asked you, would you marry me and carry our wee one in your belly?"

"Yes, I would. I have had that same dream."

At that moment Joan, seeing the emotion in Sherlock's eyes, reached for his hand, taking it, kissing the roughness of the palm of his hand, inhaling the scent of him, of rosin and beeswax mingled with sandalwood, as if her life depended upon it. He was wearing his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and Joan rubbed her cheek against his forearm, against the abundant silky hair that adorned him there, inhaling the scent of him."

"Good Lord, woman!"

"What is to become of us, Sherlock? I'm finding it so difficult to keep my hands off you."

Sherlock caught her up onto his lap and suddenly they were kissing passionately. Sherlock rubbed her hip and flank desperately and he was soon feverishly pushing his hand under her sweater searching for her warm soft breasts with his slender fingers as his mouth hungrily claimed hers again and again.

"In my dream your breasts were full, swollen and heavy, ready to give suck. Oh, my Joan . . ." Sherlock groaned passionately.

"Sherlock, we need to go into your bedroom. We can't afford that Kitty find us undone again."

He picked Joan up and carried her to his bed and they lay down together. They stared at each other for a long moment before they kissed tenderly and then passionately in the deep kiss that would completely unhinge them.

"Oh, Joan . . . Joan, I see you or touch you and I'm lost, swimming in a sea of beautiful emotions, my heart sending me spiraling in an unbelievable passion. The heat I feel for you is impossible to describe. I constantly have this need to be with you, luv. Will you please hold me the way you do?"

"Yes, Sherlock . . . yes," Joan moaned as they moved closer and closer together, breathing each other in.

"Dear Joan, Joan!" Sherlock groaned as he lay near her. "I missed you so when I was in London. All those months I dreamed about you whenever I slept. I so often tried not to sleep because I couldn't keep those dreams of you away. Oh, luv, luv, luv!"

"I was so glad you came back to me, Sherlock. Ooh, yes!"

"Oh, God! God! I love you so! I feared so that I had lost you."

"Sherlock, baby, it's all right. I'm here for you."

"Please don't ever leave me, Joanie. I could not bear this life without you, my lovely honeybee. It was so hard being away from you all those months. I had no one to love me till you came into my life, my lovely Joan."

"I missed you so, Sherlock. I dreamed of being with you, and loving you . . . having you, but thinking that it was impossible."

"I never stopped loving you, Joan, not for one moment. That is why it hurt so much when you went with Mycroft. I needed you, luv. I had never experienced these kinds of emotions in my life. I didn't believe it was possible, that it was a reality. But I didn't care what you did or whom you had been with. I couldn't stop the feelings for you that were lodged in my heart. Do you understand, my darling Joan? And now . . . I can't hold back from sobbing when I feel this reality. I never cried when making love with a woman till you."

Sherlock's silent tears spilled over as he lay in Joan's arms and Joan kissed them away and the happiness and peace they felt in those moments was impossible to describe as they lay together, making love, drifting and dozing that afternoon.

That very day Joan began to seriously contemplate moving back into the brownstone with Sherlock. She decided to spend a weekend there. It was as if she had never moved when she came back those few days. That first evening Kitty announced that she was going to be out of the house for the weekend with her Zachary and his friends to give Sherlock and Joan some totally private time. Being around them during down time had become increasingly uncomfortable for her because even though they consciously restrained themselves, it was obvious that they were profoundly stimulated by each other.

Sherlock made a fire in the fireplace and Joan made tea and brought it to Sherlock where he sat, kneeling before him in the traditional Chinese manner and handing him his cup with her two hands. Sherlock took the cup, sipped from it and set it on the side table and drew her up onto his lap.

"You are the only one to serve me tea in this manner. You did it the first time after the Moriarty affair. That is when you told me the meaning of this."

"It means that I adore and respect you in the ultimate sense. The only men I have served tea in this manner are my father and grandfather."

"I cannot believe that we are as we are now, luv. I do adore you so."

Sherlock and Joan kissed as he held her on his lap on the sofa. And the kiss that began as a tender exploration of each other's mouths rapidly became wildly passionate as they pulled each other's clothes out of the way so they could touch each other, moaning softly.

"Oh, God, Joan," Sherlock groaned, "I am so thankful that you came home to me. For the rest of my life I promise to love you with all that I am or ever will be. Dearest Joan . . . my woman, my lover, my only one. I will try with all that I am to be a worthy consort."

"Yes, Sherlock, I am yours and I will be yours. Take care of me, baby, and I will always take care of you."

Joan reached for Sherlock's cup of tea, sipped from it and handed it to Sherlock to drink again. Sherlock took a long draught of the Earl Grey and set the cup aside again for a moment. He searched for Joan's mouth and kissed her again, his mouth plumbing the depths of hers, tasting her, tasting the Earl Grey on her tongue as his slender fingers hands searched her hips and her flanks caressing, squeezing her and then finding their way to where his imagination already taken him.

"Sherlock . . . Sherlock . . . Ooh, Sherlock. . . I can't resist you. I'm afraid of what I feel when you touch me there like that. I become this sex-crazed woman . . . Sherlock."

"Your sexual drive and your sexual response is a marvelous gift . . . the most beautiful thing I could imagine receiving from a woman. I respect you . . . the way you held back from coming after me. You knew that I wanted you from that first day you walked into this brownstone but you held back. You have suffered so many nights. I have heard you moaning in your sleep those nights when I sat in your room watching you sleep, and I wanted to give you what you needed, but I held back. I am just an addict, hardly deserving to have the treasure of your passionate nature, but now I know that I can take care of your passions. When I saw you let go and enjoy yourself, I knew that I had found the most beautiful thing in life with you."

Joan put her hand on his hairy chest inside his open shirt and she scratched him there and then let her tiny fingers pinch and massage his chest, causing him to gasp passionately.

"Joanie . . . lovely honeybee . . . I dreamed of your hands on me like this so many lonely nights. Thank you so much for touching me and, and letting me . . . letting me touch you and love you. Oh, Joan!"

Sherlock's flesh was making its presence known in no uncertain terms, his excitement so evident that Joan moaned helplessly, beginning to tremble and quiver on his lap as she felt the excitement in his flesh.

"Ooh, Sherlock . . . Sherlock, help me . . . you. . . you are the only one who knows how to help me when I am like this. Please, baby! No other man knows what to do for me. You make me want you inside me in the worst way. I am so hot for you. I'm ready all the time, baby."

She gripped his hand and put it where she wanted it, as they kissed with abandon.

"Oh my God, Joan! This is what I love about you. You face the reality of our sexual need for each other. You are all that I need."

"Oh, Sherlock . . . Sherlock," Joan moaned, opening her thighs wide for him to have his way completely with her.

"Darling Joan . . . Darling Joan . . ." Sherlock murmured as he pulled Joan down on top of him on the sofa.

"Umm, Sherlock . . . I love you . . . so . . . so."

"Let's go to my bed, luv. You're at home now."

Sherlock helped Joan up, picked her up in his arms, led her into his bedroom and closed the door behind them.

It was the next morning when Sherlock wakened with Joan wrapped around him in their bed. He carefully extricated himself and kissed Joan ever so softly before getting out of bed. He stopped for a long moment staring at Joan in his bed, remembering the passion of the night before. He reached and lifted a long lock of her silky black hair, kissed it, and let it slip through his fingers before easing from bed.

Joan turned, realizing that he was going to leave her alone in bed and sighed, reaching for him with her hand. Sherlock caught it in his and bent and kissed it.

"I'm going to make coffee, luv. I expect we will be hearing from Gregson on the case. Do you want to beg off today? We can make breakfast, lie about for a while."

Joan stretched and the covers slipped slightly and she reached to cover herself again.

"Please don't cover up. Indulge me, luv."

Joan threw the covers back and Sherlock stared, mesmerized at the sight of her, his nostrils flaring in arousal, his pupils fully dilated, catching his lower lip in his teeth in that way that Joan found irresistible.

"You're going to have to come back here and finish what you started with that look, Sherlock. I'm not nearly done with you."

And that is what he did.

Joan and Sherlock decided to take the next couple days to adjust to how it would be to live together in this new relationship. Kitty was away and this gave the lovers time and privacy to explore none stop all that they were feeling. They had no desire to leave the brownstone for any reason and so Sherlock made scrambled eggs and toast when they were finally able to get out of bed. Joan watched him puttering about in the kitchen and could not resist coming behind him to hug him.

"I promised you this hug several weeks or so ago, didn't I?"

"And I warned you at that time that dangerous consequences would present themselves in that event, didn't I?"

Sherlock smiled to himself as he enjoyed Joan's playful attention. He was wearing a dark blue tee shirt and sweatpants and Joan found him quite tantalizing, so much so that she playfully pulled them off his muscular hips so that she could squeeze and explore him there as she hugged him.

"And what would you have done, if I had hugged you then?" Joan teased.

"Darling, I had not been with a woman since a couple months before I left London. And that had been from sheer necessity and quite unfulfilling to boot. I had been in such persistent need that if you had touched me, I would have lost it completely. You would have to have told me 'no'."

"You needed a woman," Joan said softly against his back. "You came back to New York needing a woman and you needed a woman to take care of you that day. I know all your tells, Sherlock. I wanted to hug you in the worst way, but I was afraid of what I was feeling for you. It was all I could do to keep my hands off you."

"I didn't just need any woman. I needed you, Joan. And seeing you again only made me all the more keen for you. My feelings for you never left me the whole time we were apart. And then when I saw you again, it all came barreling back on me. That is why I went to see Dr. Reed. It all was driving me quite mad, Joan. If you had not permitted me to work with you again, I don't know what I would have done. But you . . ."

Sherlock turned to face Joan and they both gasped as they realized how their close proximity had aroused them both. Sherlock bent to kiss Joan's cheeks and their hug tightened as they kissed passionately, their bodies pressed as closely together as humanly possible.

"I couldn't say 'no' to you because I loved you too much to refuse you. But I was so scared that we would hurt each other again. I was scared to be close to you if I couldn't touch you, Sherlock."

"Luv, if we want to eat now, I dare say we should take a break from this activity or I will not be responsible for what happens. You have me very much in gear right at this moment. I only want one thing now."

Sherlock and Joan kissed passionately holding on to each other for dear life as Sherlock backed Joan in the direction of one of the kitchen chairs where they sat down, all the while pulling down each other's pants, so that he could draw Joan down to straddle his ready flesh and they both cried out at the intense pleasure that coursed through them in that moment when they came together.

"Joan . . . Joan! Oh, Jesus!"

They were rocking together, causing the old chair to creak rhythmically as they moved in sync.

"So sorry, luv. Planning to eat . . . lost it when you touched me the way you did."

"I couldn't resist you, Sherlock. I couldn't resist you."

They rapidly found that moment of supreme pleasure together, laughing and kissing and nipping each other as it rolled over them, finally leaving Joan with her face buried in Sherlock's chest.

"Joan . . . luv . . . luv, I am lost in my passion for you. At this moment I don't care if I never eat again."

Joan smiled and lifted her head so that she could look into Sherlock's eyes. His blue-green irises nearly vanished surrounding his dilated pupils in thin circles of brilliant color and his nostrils flared as he kissed Joan all over her face.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry I couldn't help touching you and wanting you."

"And you are utterly irresistible, darling."

"Sherlock, you have me so woozy. I'm needing a nap now."

Sherlock lifted Joan up in his arms and stood up and then carried her and sat her over on the sofa.

"Now, lover, I beg you to sit right here till I redo those eggs and toast, because if I don't get some protein into me, I will be unable to rise to our next occasion."

Sherlock kissed Joan soundly and then had to shake his head at his predicament as he tried to push himself back into his sweat pants so that he could finish preparing their breakfast. A bemused and very mellow Sherlock smiled continuously to himself till he finished their late breakfast of bacon and eggs scrambled with cheese, toast and coffee and brought it on a tray to the sofa where Joan had dropped off for a short post-coital nap. He was struck by her beauty as she lay sleeping, her clothing still in complete disarray, her hair tousled, her face flushed as she snored softly.

My woman doesn't know how lovely she is after we have been together. She is so passionate. She wants it as much as I do. Her body is so ready for me all the time. I can't imagine how she managed all those months of being without. Her breasts are so lovely nestled together like that. Just that glimpse of her soft belly and hips naked like that. I can hardly keep my mind on what I'm doing here.

As Sherlock put their breakfast on the coffee table, he leaned down to wake Joan with another kiss, gently pulling down her shirt to cover her breasts and covering her naked lower body with the afghan there so that he could focus on the matters at hand.

"You are amazing, Sherlock, truly amazing," Joan murmured as she wakened and realized that she was practically naked under the afghan.

"You are quite certain of this, my dear Watson? That is a most generous assessment, one that I am not worthy of."

"I am positive. You make me crazy when I'm with you now. Look at me!"

"Yes, I enjoyed seeing my sex kitten so beautifully carried away. Please don't put your clothes back on right now, luv."

Sherlock and Joan ate finally, their bodies needing the nourishment provided. Then they sat back and enjoyed coffee together on the sofa, their flesh touching from shoulders to calves as they reflected on the change in their relationship.

Ever so often they turned to each other and kissed tenderly and whispered a very personal endearment. Joan smiled and then giggled as Sherlock referred to her intimate parts in a most specific and complimentary manner.

"I will never tire of hearing you say that word to me in my ear, Sherlock."

"Do you know the word I mean?"

"You mean that word you only whisper in my ear when you are in the throes of ecstasy?"

Sherlock whispered the word again, modified with the adjective "beautiful" and patted her at the place he had referred to so graphically and Joan put her hand on the source of his arousal and he just groaned her name, writhing under her touch.

"It's true. It's all very true, Joan. You amaze me every time this happens. I don't know how we stayed apart for those two years that we lived together in the same house. You were constantly on my mind, but I did not dare encroach upon you that way."

"I cannot help myself now, Sherlock, when you touch me and talk to me the way that you do."

"May I suggest that we just attend to ourselves today, my dearest Watson?"

Joan quivered helplessly and reached over to run her hand up and down his muscled thigh which evoked the same response in Sherlock as frissons of pleasure surged through him.

Finally Sherlock drew the soft afghan across them to cover them, but that did not stop the sensual touching between them as they snuggled together. Joan moaned softly as they became entwined, their hands exploring each other till they fell asleep under the afghan.

In the afternoon they pulled themselves together and got dressed in spite of their distraction with each other and went out to eat. In the frigid air they enjoyed being close together walking hand in hand.

"Joan," Sherlock said. "We need to have something special to eat. What do you crave, luv?"

"I want Italian. Can we go to that northern Italian restaurant off Canal Street that we went to last year. Their escargots were so good."

"Italian it is. I feel the same."

They made their way to Forlini's, a family restaurant south of Canal Street and were ushered into a booth that was somewhat secluded.

Their waitress, Anita, was a vivacious red headed member of the Forlini family who loved to take a personal interest in her clientele. She immediately picked up on the passionate undercurrent between Sherlock and Joan.

"Hi, I'm Anita. My, you two look like you are really enjoying being together."

"Matter of fact, we are, Anita. It is a great time for us. I find myself completely in love with this woman here."

Joan flushed in the face of Sherlock's comments and they settled in to enjoy a delicious meal of escargots sautéed in butter and flavored with fresh garlic and then linguini with chunks of lobster in a creamy sauce, all of it topped off with an excellent tiramisu that they shared, feeding it to each other as they drank cups of expresso coffee with it.

As they finished the meal, they were replete, overstimulated by the sumptuous fare.

Sherlock stared at Joan, his mind now taking him in another direction, profoundly aware of Joan's sexual allure as he imagined the sensation of touching her breasts and of the taste of her mouth.

"Sherlock, you make me so warm when you look at me like that."

"I am lusting so for you. I want to take you home now. Do you mind?"

Sherlock hailed a taxi and they headed for Brooklyn. Sherlock fell silent and Joan reached for his hand and held it.

"You are quiet."

"I can think only of my sole remaining need. I love you so much."

Sherlock drew Joan onto his lap in the cab, letting his hand slip up her skirt to find its place between her thighs, as he kissed her hard on her mouth. She tasted of tiramisu and coffee.

When they got into the brownstone, Sherlock took Joan's coat, hung it up, and immediately caught her up in his arms and began to kiss her. Sherlock's passions surged as she clung to him and he moaned softly as she helped him pull his jacket off and then unbuttoned his shirt so that she could touch his chest.

"Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock," she murmured as he picked her up and carried her to their bedroom.

"Joanie, I love you and need you desperately. But I want to talk with you about my feelings. I need to tell you why I love being with you. But I must mention Irene. When I was with her, I wasn't really with her. She carefully rationed her time with me, and she never really gave me enough . . . of herself. In fact she took pride in the fact that I was always left wanting. And then there would be weeks sometimes that would pass between my seeing her. Do you understand me? You are so generous to me, Joan, matching my own need and your own sensual appetites in every way. I . . . I feel so honored that you give me yourself so graciously. Being one in intercourse with you is the most amazing sexual experience of my life and a gift beyond description. That is what brings me to tears sometimes when we are together."

Joan caressed Sherlock's stubbled cheek and kissed his lips tenderly. She was tearing up as well and her tears spilled over.

"Luv, you are crying too." Sherlock tasted her tears as he returned each kiss, his hand caressing her cheek.

"I can't help it. But I just didn't want you to think I'm some kind of crazed nymphomaniac."

" I have told you why I would not think that, Joan?"

"I want you all the time, and I can't hold myself in check when I'm around you, Sherlock. I see you and I just want to crawl all over you and give myself to you. I can't hold anything back. Please don't devalue me because I need you so. You truly are the only man who knows what to do for me. You do know every single one of my needs as a woman and you take care of me, Sherlock. . . completely."

"You are the jewel of my life, Joan. I love your passion, your abandon. I am honored that you want me, that my body can bring you pleasure. When you need to be loved, I want you to let me know. When I hear you call my name in that moment, my heart feels as if it will burst. And when I feel you melt the way you do in your moment of capitulation, I want to sob for joy. That is how I feel about you. I have never been a religious man, but when you give yourself to me the way that you do, I feel as if I am receiving something sacred from you. For the first time in my life I understand why the relationship between a man and a woman can be characterized as 'holy.' That is why I asked you to marry me that afternoon at The Chatwal, Joan. For the first time in my life I want all that marriage entails. I want the misery and I want the joy. And if it is possible, I want to fill your belly with life while there is still time. I want to be the one you fight with, the one you make up with, the one to protect you, the one you sleep with every night of your life."

"Oh, Sherlock . . . Sherlock!"

Sherlock bent his head and kissed her neck, her cheeks, and drew her blouse open so that he could kiss her breasts over and over. Joan held him close, running her fingers through his hair, then pushed his shirt out of the way and off so that she could caress his shoulders and back, finding pleasure in revisiting every inch of his body. She kissed his left shoulder with its intricate weblike network of tattoos, licking and sucking and learning the taste of each part of him that went along with the scent she already knew so well, listening to Sherlock sigh and gasp raggedly as he reacted to each touch, each caress, his whole body beginning to vibrate in anticipation of becoming one with her again.

"Dear Lord, Joan!" Sherlock growled as he kissed Joan again.

He was rapidly becoming lost in her, as she surrendered to kiss after ardent kiss. He knew that he was about to be a goner as he buried his face in her breasts and then her soft belly, moaning softly as he kissed her all over her body, exploring her as only he could do, revisiting all the places he found such pleasure in.

"Sherlock . . . yes," she sighed as Sherlock took her and claimed her for himself once again..

"I'm gone, Joan, completely gone."

Joan wailed his name helplessly as the rhythm of coitus seized them and took them and held them captive in its own peculiar cadence.

Joan saw stars as the climax swept her forward to the summit and then she felt herself sliding down from that precipice to that place where Sherlock's arms would catch her and suspend her in a state of complete surrender in his arms.

"Sherlock . . . Sherlock, yes!"

"Oh, Joan! Darling . . . I love you . . . love you so," Sherlock cried out and his whole body went rigid at that moment. "Oh, God! Help us!"

Sherlock's whole body was trembling and jerking as spasms seized him and his brain exploded in blue and white lights and he lost vision as it rolled over them and left them clinging to one another, entwined, exchanging tender words and soft gentle kisses as the afterglow settled upon them.

"Dear, dear Joan, my Joan, my lovely Joan."

"Sherlock . . . Sher . . . lock . . . ummm"

Joan cherished Sherlock's head against her breasts and ran her fingers through his hair murmuring his name over and over as Sherlock drew their blankets up over their sated bodies as they drifted in and out of sleep, luxuriating in the closeness of each other's flesh as they lay in bed wrapped around each other.