Hey people! So, I know this took a while to get posted, we found it slightly difficult to write this chapter. But here it is! Anyways, remember the poll is still up for voting, and send in any ideas or requests and we can see what we can do! LOVE YOU!

Irene yawned in her sleep, stretching slightly before snuggling against the warm body that had its arms wrapped around her form. She smiled softly as she slowly came out of the dream she had been having about Sherlock and and something about a bicycle-an ironic and amusing idea in itself. He shifted in his sleep, jarring her fully into consciousness as she blinked her eyes open and yawned once more. She glanced up at the slumbering detective, a tiny stream of drool falling from the corner of his mouth. She giggled at the sight, knowing full well the scowl of disdain and embarrassment he would surely wear on his face if he knew he had been caught drooling by anyone in his sleep. The man did have a bit of an ego/pride issue-but she wouldn't have him any other way. Unlike too many others that knew the man, his snobbish, prideful, arrogant temper was absolutely charming and amusing to her. She loved it. Well, she loved to torture it and tease it and prod it...But then again she was 'The' Woman for him. She brought a hand up and gently wiped the bit of saliva away with her finger, chuckling lowly. She then leaned up and kissed the corner of his lip gently. "Good morning Mr Holmes." She husked softly, nestling his cheekbone with her nose.

Sherlock groaned softly as he fought to open his eyes against the morning sun. He could hear Irene talking lowly to him, telling him good morning. Wrapping his arms around her, he turned his head and pressed his lips to hers, whispering to her "Good morning, Miss Adler" as he worked on waking fully. He could feel her wrapped around him, pressing against him, and the feelings that were caused was something that he had only ever felt with her, something that he cherished because of his limited time. "How are you feeling, Irene?" He asked, remembering what they would be doing today.

She bit her lip, his words jogging her memory at just what exactly she was going to do today. "Mm, a bit nervous...excited, worried.." She murmured, resting her chin on his chest as she gazed up at him. "And you?"

"Hmm... anticipation, nervousness, the likes." He replied, looking at the ceiling as he spoke. He did feel that, but not just for the reason that she was thinking of. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his hand over her back, the motion soothing the both of them.

She sighed softly, "Well just be thankful you don't have to pee on a bloody stick." She muttered in sarcastic jest, laughing darkly, "Oops, sorry dear, I'm misbehaving, aren't I?" She winked.

A chuckle shook through Sherlock's chest at her words. "Oh come now, it won't be that bad. All you have to do is drink some water and pee on a stick. Nothing too threatening for you, surely." He said, smirking down at her as his hand continued to move.

Irene shoved him playfully, mock hurt on her face, "True dear, but if depending on how that goes I will be the one that has to push a human out of my body. Best treat me well." She said, yawning widely before lying back on the bed and closing her eyes for a moment of rest.

"Do I ever not treat you well?" He asked playfully, running his long fingers over her sides gently, tickling her as she snuggled back into him.

Irene bit her lip trying not to giggle as she kept her eyes closed and grabbed his hands, or at least tried to. "St-Stop it, Sherlock!" She hissed, opening an eye to shoot him a glare of warning.

"If you want me to stop, Miss Adler, you're going to have to make me." Sherlock said, moving his hands a little quicker over her sides.

Irene quirked an eyebrow at him as she continued to try and fight his hands. She gripped his wrists and yanked them off of her finally before rolling on top of him and and straddling his pelvis with her own, throwing his wrists back and above his head she pinned them above his head. She glared down at him, a wicked smirk in her eyes as she gaze at him evilly, "Oh my Mr Holmes, looks like someone needs to be punished, doesn't it?" She husked darkly, leaning down to bite his bottom lip and tug on it before abandoning it suddenly. She ground her pelvis floor against his member, silently cursing him for having worn pants to bed. She much preferred him in his 'battle suit. She did love to tease him, though.

Sex Scene Starts Here

"Mmm, it does seem that way, doesn't it Miss Adler." Sherlock said, moving his hips up to meet her roughly, the cotton fabric causing a wonderful friction on him.

Irene licked her lips and grinned as she let out a low purr at his rocking hips as she felt the increased stimulation against her apex and clit. "Tsk, tsk, tsk Mr Holmes, I'm the one in control, or need I remind you?" She hissed lowly, taking both his wrists in her left hand so that she could sit back and run her index finger down his left cheekbone before clutching his chin roughly.

He bit back a soft moan as he felt her nails dig into his jaw, forcing him to look at her. "No, Miss Adler. You are in charge." He said, trying not to move his jaw too much. He couldn't help but allow his eyes to wander over her, taking in every dip and curve that she had.

She cocked her head and grinned smugly as she couldn't help but register his eyes roaming over her form. "See something you fancy, Mr Holmes?" She murmured, her hand tugging his chin up so that he was forced to look into her eyes.

He couldn't help the moan the broke through at her words and movements. "Oh yes, Miss Adler, I do indeed." he husked, his arms tensing under her grip has he felt the need to touch her.

She pouted at him mockingly. "Aw, shame, dear. I'm a bit off limits you see." She replied vaguely, her hips increasing their pace as she thrust against him softly.

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk slightly at her words, her movements causing pleasure to shoot through him. "And why is that, Miss Adler?" he asked, forcing himself to look in her eyes.

She leaned back further, her back arching slightly, displaying her round orbs of pale, creamy flesh before him. "I'm spoken for, you see." She answered, her left hand letting go of his wrists as she ran her hands up her body, over bare breasts and up her neck to grasp the bobby pins she had left in her hair, taking them out quickly to let her hair fall around her face.l

Sherlock felt his wrists free from her grasp as she reached up to remove the pins from her hair, and sat up quickly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck, taking in her taste and scent. "Oh, and would I happen to know them?" he whispered, sucking lightly on her skin.

Irene glared at him, a glint of mischief in her eye. She pushed him back down on the bed, her hands pressing against his shoulders. "Yes, you may know of them. And I told you, Mr Holmes, I'm. Off. Limits. This body is the property of others." She scolded him darkly.

"Tell me about this mystery person, Miss Adler. And I do so wish I could have you for my own, you look so... delectable." he husked, his voice rough as he looked at her.

She did her best not to shiver at his guttural tone. His voice like velvet on steel. She ran her hands through her hair seductively as she replied, "Thank you, dear. But I'm not sure you could handle me...being a virgin and all..." She teased lightly. "My lover is quite evolved in that department...Thanks to me, you see. And he is quite the looker. A face that could cut diamonds." She added, her hands moving down to stroke his pale, soft chest lazily.

"And what exactly does your lover do that gets you so...exhilarated? How do they touch you, kiss you, that just gets to you like nothing else?" he whispered, his hands moving toward her smooth thighs, caressing them gently.

Irene lifted a curious and amused brow. The man was clever, employing her little game against to turn her on. She wasn't about to let him win so easily, however. She narrowed her eyes as she slammed her hands down to cover his on her thighs, halting their process and assault of her lower body. She decided to employ a bit of smut, a bit of dirty talk with him. "Well, Mr Holmes, he fucks me you see...hard and fast...in my...cunt..." She said, emphasising the words, especially the latter as she clicked the final 'T' sound against her teeth. "Sometimes for hours on end...Sorry, you are familiar with what 'cunt' means, aren't you, dear?" She asked him mockingly, beginning to drag his hands up her sides slowly.

Sherlock shivered with pleasure at her words, and looked up at her with a hard yet burning gaze. "It isn't wise, Miss Adler, to look down upon me for the mere fact that I haven't had sex yet. You may find that you are... pleasantly surprised at what I can do." He said, sitting up and staring into her crystal sage-sapphire eyes.

Irene raised her brows in mock impressment. "Oh, really Mr Holmes? I somehow find that hard to believe. I sometimes think you forget you own a cock all together...Much less know how to properly use it."

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk at her words, defiance bubbling in him. "I assure you, Miss Adler, I am very aware of how to use my own cock properly. If given the chance, however, I may surprise you with what I know." he said, moving one of his hands from her grasp and running it down the small of her back, resting on the crest of her rear.

She narrowed her eyes further, reaching her hand around to grab his at the summit of her arse and yanked it back around to her front, before bringing both hands to cup her breasts, and instructing him to squeeze them firmly. She scoffed sardonically, "Good luck with that, Mr Holmes." She challenged with a grin.

Smirking at her actions, Sherlock moved his hands to tease her erect nipples, and leaned down to press his mouth to the top of her breast, his tongue flicking out to taste her. His clothed hips ground upwards into hers again, the friction heavenly against his straining member.

Irene tried to restrain a low moan from escaping her chest, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how easily he affected her. She bit her lip as she felt his almost fully hard member rub against her through her knickers, the moisture between her thighs increasing as the full, scheming throb hummed through her bod from her clit. She glanced down at his face at her mounds, her eyes dark and heavy, pregnant with arousal and lust and love for the man before her. "You'll have to do better than that, Mr Sherlock Holmes." She husked with challenge.

Hearing her challenge, Sherlock removed his hands from her breasts and moved them to her waist, gripping her tightly before turning them both over so that she is pressed into the mattress, with him hovering above her. Moving his hands down, he hooked his fingers into her underwear and pulled them down, his body following to remove them completely. Once he was done, and the garment removed, Sherlock moved up again, pressing kisses to her body, and pressed his lips to her, one of his hands finding her clit and gently pressing and rubbing it.

She heard the breath in her throat hitch as he found her swollen nub and began to knead it, her hips bucking slightly despite her desire to look indifferent and unimpressed. She growled in defiance before roughly smacking his hand away and pushing him back so that he fell on his knees. She then sat up and and in one fluid motion brought her hand up and across his right cheek, slapping him in punishment and warning. "I told you Mr Holmes. I'm in control. I'm the dominate one. And I have the control." She hissed darkly, shaking her hand slightly at the sting and praying that he would respond favourably to her slight BDSM shift in tone.

Though shocked at her movements and actions, Sherlock couldn't help but find this side of her completely... sexy. The pain and pleasure that came from being dominated is something even he would not have seen coming, had he been studying it. Recovering from his shock, he lifted his head to look at her through his lashes, his body slightly hunched forward subconsciously. "Yes, Miss Adler. I am sorry, Miss Adler." He said, looking directly into her eyes as he spoke softly.

She continued to glare at him as she shifted into full on dominatrix mode, treating him as she would a client-well, a favourite client as she she sat up for and brought her hand to gently rub his now red, flushed right cheek. "Good boy." She murmured, stroking his cheekbone before reaching back and slapping his other cheek with a sly grin. "Tell me Mr Holmes, because I need to figure out what you like...Does the pain lead to pleasure for you? When I slap you across the cheek, does your cock twitch in arousal? Does the blood in your veins pulsate?" She husked, eyeing him wickedly.

Swallowing hard at her words, he kept his eyes focused on her and nodded, "Yes, Miss Adler." he responded, his breath hitching as he did so.

She smiled slowly, "Good. I can work with that, Mr Holmes. Sherlock." Irene murmured lowly. Her eyes quickly darted around the room, searching for something which she could employ to bind him with. Her eyes finally landed on his, cashmere, designer, navy-blue, signature scarf-a slow and amused grin crossing her lips as she dashed up to retrieve it. She pulled it taut as she sauntered back over to the bed, her eyes large and dark. "Your wrists, Mr Holmes." She ordered sharply.

Sitting up slightly straighter, Sherlock held his arms straights, pressing the insides of his wrists together as she tied his scarf around them, ensuring that he could not use his hands. With that done, he placed his now bound hands in his lap, looking up at Irene.

Sex Ends Here

Mycroft Holmes made his way casually down the somewhat dim hallway, yawning slightly as he had been up since 6:00 am and it was already 10:30 am. He checked his phone, wondering if Greg was awake yet before pocketing it with an annoyed sigh at its lack of content. He saw that Sherlock and Irene's door was slightly ajar, and silently thanked them for having the decency to not sleep until noon. They all had a very big day ahead of them, and attention and planning needed to be considered. He pushed the door open lazily as he began to say, "Good morning, little brother, how are we fair-" He froze in his in the doorway as his eyes locked onto the image before him. Irene Adler was standing before his younger brother, naked but for a pair of very skimpy, black, lace knickers wielding Sherlock's Hermes, leather belt between her hands-pulling it tight-as her teeth bit into the leather at the center of the accessory. Sherlock, meanwhile, had had his wrists bound together with his navy scarf, his eyes dark and full, and, oh dear God, a rather sizable bulge straining against his pants. Mycroft nearly vomited before stuttering a hasty apology.

Sherlock felt a primal need run through him as he watched Irene, his belt held between her teeth. This being so, it took him a moment to register the noise coming from the side of the room, and curiosity took hold, forcing him to turn his head and look. There, in the doorway to the bedroom, stood his brother, a look of shocked embarrassment clear on his face, his skin slightly gray, and stuttering apologies. Sherlock could do nothing but look at him, uncomfortable awkwardness beginning to take hold. After a few moments, he watched his brother walk away, his hands slightly shaking.

Irene frowned slightly as she eyed Sherlock's sudden shift in tone and mood. She had thought she had heard something-or rather, someone in the doorway, but she had chosen to ignore it for the time being. Noticing Sherlock's awkwardness, however, she chose to turn her hand and study the doorway. She almost burst out in laughter at the sight of Mycroft in the hall, stumbling to locate his words as he turned bright red and huffed in embarrassed, awkward stammerings. She flashed him a wink before mouthing, Best go, Mr Holmes, unless you want to see a show.

Sherlock watched in mild shock as his brother walked away from the door and back down the hall, his demeanor stiff, like that of a person experiencing shock. Slowly, he turned his head back to Irene, watching her for any indication of what she felt from that. Gradually, his mind began to work through the cloud of (now muted) desire, and he began to see something amusing in that encounter. Mycroft, who had tormented him most of his life, had just seen Sherlock in a way that he had never wanted to see, and while others would find it embarrassing, mortifying, even, Sherlock merely found it amusing. Sure enough, a laugh managed to escape from him, breaking the silence of the room.

A slow grin spread across Irene's face as she studied his features, trying to deduce the plethora of emotions and mixture of feelings that were sprinting across his features. As soon as she heard his low, sardonic, almost evil chuckle, however, her grin immediately broke into a deep laugh, echoing his quite accurately. "Well, someone's going to have a few nightmare's tonight." She commented darkly, snapping the belt between her hands with a smirk.

"I must say that he has deserved it, with all that he put me through as children. Besides, it is of his own fault that he did not announce himself before entering." Sherlock replied, slowly raising himself to his feet, his wrists still bound by his scarf. Sherlock watched as Irene walked toward him, her hands reaching out and gently undoing the knot. Before she could pull her hands away, however, Sherlock caught her wrists in his long fingers, pulling her closely and pressing his lips to hers, a soft whisper of 'later' passing between them. Pulling away, silence fell on the room as they began to ready themselves to talk with Mycroft.

Irene smiled at him, his the sense memory of his lips still tingling through hers. He had become so tender, so sweet, his old walls had crumbling the Berlin wall. She shook her head, dislodging herself from her overly sentimental train of thought. She sighed heavily, "I could slap that brother of yours...And not the way I slap you. Doesn't he know it's rude and highly cruel to interrupt a good fuck? He'd make a wretched client...His mobile would probably go off and he'd pause to answer it." She grumbled, crossing to pull a bra out of the top drawer of the dresser.

"Hmm..." Sherlock replied, his fingers working on the small buttons of his purple shirt, "Actually, I overheard John and Lestrade talking at a crime scene, and I ever so wish I hadn't heard it, but Mycroft actually doesn't take his phone into the bedroom. Lestrade seemed shocked." Sherlock shook his head slightly, finishing up with his shirt and turning to Irene.

Irene chuckled as she rummaged through the closet for a blouse. "Perhaps the man isn't so ice frozen as we all assume." She murmured, glancing over at Sherlock, who was absentmindedly doing up her absolute favorite shirt of his. The plum-purple D&G slim fitting one, that stretched across his chest so perfectly. The buttons always seeming to beg to pop, and good Lord, did she wish they would. She growled at him, "Sherlock I'm beginning to think I'm rubbing off on you..." She began, "That's just...cruel. Using sex like that..." She scolded, wondering if he knew just how wet that him in that shirt made her.

Sherlock smirked at her words, knowing exactly what it did to her. Quickly, he finished buttoning his trousers and stepped over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Just think of it as a little... teaser for when my brother leaves." He said, his voice taking a rough undertone as he looked into her eyes.

Irene groaned and pushed him away playfully, "You're wicked, Mr Holmes." She hissed, giving him a wink and murmuring, "Don't make put on my battle-dress, dear," before turning to finally decide what to actually wear for the day.

Sherlock smiled as he watched her picking out her clothes before turning away, looking in the mirror and trying to get the tangles out of his hair. "Don't bother, Miss Adler. John's not here to oggle you, and I'm certainly not going to." he replied, his eyes darting toward her form in the mirror, trying to gauge her reaction to his words.

Irene, still having her back to him, cocked a brow and smirked in slight, mock offense, scoffing softly. She swallowed and took a beat before retorting calmy, "Perhaps you're right, Mr Holmes..." She began, turning around to face him slowly, "John would certainly know how to...appreciate me and my talents...Perhaps I'll give him a ring..." She smirked in jest, beginning to cross to her phone in empty threat.

Finally giving up on his hair, Sherlock turned to her, pulling her back against his chest and pressing his lips down her neck. "Give me time, and I can most certainly appreciate your talents." He whispered, sucking lightly on her skin.

She couldn't help but grin at him as she nuzzled her face against his chest, "You had better, my darling." She murmured into his sternum, before pulling back to lean up and kiss his chin playfully.

"Mmm..." He hummed, tilting his head to catch her lips quickly before pulling away. "We need to go talk to my brother, dear. Are you ready?" he asked, holding his hand out for her to take.

She sighed, "Yes, yes, let me just slip on a dress." She replied crossing to the closet and grabbing a somewhat more loose-fitting, yet still very retro-styled dress to don. She considered putting on heels but then decided against it, she'd have to get used to be flat on her feet if she was, in fact, with child. She walked back over to Sherlock and turned her back to him, "Mind zipping me, dear?" She purred.

Smiling, Sherlock zipped her dress smoothly, doing the eye hook at the neckline as well. "Beautiful." he murmured, looking at her fully. Her hair was down, flowing naturally down her back, she was barefoot and looked so relaxed. He wished that she could stay this way forever.

She offered her his hand and flashed him a grin, "I'd be lying if I'm not looking just a little bit forward to seeing Mycroft's face in a moment. Though, do, keep me from smacking him." She winked.

"I shall do my best, but no promises. It would be so nice to see him get slapped, just once." Sherlock joked, grabbing her hand and walking out of the room and down the stairs to meet Mycroft in the sitting room. Upon entering, it was obvious that he had yet to fully get over what he had seen, if his tense stature was anything to go by.

Irene adopted her usual, sharp, coquettish, and slightly amused face, aiming it at Mycroft severely. "Hello Mr Holmes, Senior, I do hope you enjoy the show. I can give you my business card if you ever feel the desire for a...session." She flirted at him mockingly.

Feeling himself flush slightly, Mycroft cleared his throat and looked at the pair of them on the couch. "Yes, that was rather-" he cleared his throat again before continuing, "As you both know, looking at the days since the possible conceivement, you are able to test today. It would be wise, however, to get a second opinion from a professional with either a blood or urine test, but I figured you both would be more comfortable with the home test first." With this, Mycroft pulled a First Response Pregnancy Test from his briefcase. "I had Anthia pick this up yesterday. She felt that it would be the best for an accurate answer." He said, handing the box to his brother.

"Mycroft, you mentioned a blood test. I- I cannot do the test, surely you can understand. I would not be able to look at the samples without hoping for there to be something, and I may make a mistake. Somebody else will need to test it." Sherlock said, passing the box over to Irene and looking down at his hands.

"I understand, Sherlock." Mycroft replied, "Which is why I have employed Doctor Watson as the one to test it. Now, before you say anything," He continued on, seeing both Sherlock and Irene's head snap towards him in shock, "I have not told him who the blood is going to be from, only that he will be looking for signs of pregnancy, early signs. I am sure that he believes it to be Anthia, or some other woman. He has no reason to expect you, Miss Adler." Mycroft finished, looking at her directly.

Irene swallowed as she turned the box around in her hands, sighing softly to herself. She glanced at Sherlock and gave him a private look before turning to Mycroft. "Thank you Mr... Mycroft. Truly." She murmured quietly. "I suppose I should take my leave and get this over with. I'll leave you boys to chat." She muttered, stealing one last glance at the man she loved before walking slowly to the lavatory, her mind silently wishing that she had Kate here for some sort of source of comfort as she took the test and waited.

Sherlock looked after her as she walked away, taking in her slightly shaking shoulders and slow, careful steps, before sharing a look with his brother and rushing to catch up with her. "Irene, you won't be alone in this. I'm here. I know it's not the same as having another woman here to share the experience with, but I'm not going to leave you now, not for this." He said, squeezing her hand and they reached the bathroom.

Irene blushed slightly, giving his hand a squeeze before silently thanking him with her eyes and teasing him, saying, "Dear God, you've gone soft on me, Mr Holmes. Whatever will I do with you now?" She chuckled gently, before leaning up to press a tender kiss to his cheek.

"Would you have me any other way?" He whispered back, pressing his lips to her forehead, his eyes closing as he took comfort in her presence.

She bit her lip, "God, Sherlock, please don't tempt me so...How can I not make a 'hard on' joke now?" She laughed, thankful that he was able to make her laugh so easily. She reached out to squeeze his hand once more before turning around to enter the bathroom.

Irene sighed as she shut and locked the door, leaning against it for a moment of brief reflection. It was almost too ironic and unbelievable to be true. Her, Irene Adler, taking a pregnancy test!? The thought of having children was obscene...disgusting, too time consuming to ever cross her radar. She had honestly thought that she was too selfish a person to ever want to take care of another, as her own. At least, until she had met him. The Man that had changed everything. She shook her head and chuckled ironically at herself, before crossing to the counter as she opened the box. She took the test out, turned it over in her hands to examine-unable to keep from reminding herself of Sherlock when he twiddled things in inspection in his hands-and then read the instructions. Seemed easy enough. She then went to the toilet and prepared herself to take the test, before sitting down and thrusting the white stick between her legs, sighing as she did her business. Once she was done she stood up, pulled her knickers up and crossed back to the counter to lay it down before washing her hands. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and set a timer for three minutes before walking over to the door and opening it, "All done. Just have to wait now, dear." She murmured somewhat wearily, her nerve of whether she was actually pregnant or not mounting as the seconds ticked by.

Sherlock had waited for a few minutes nervously outside of the bathroom while Irene took the test before she opened the door. Turning to her, he nodded at her words, and silently pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back and burying his face in her hair. Pulling away after a few seconds, he looked into her eyes, his own wide with emotion. "Irene, remember that no matter what this turns out to say, that is still the blood test that is going to be done, for a final answer. And even if you are not, I will still love you, the outcome of this does not change anything. I love you, and that is all." Sherlock whispered, hoping that she believed what he said. Once he was finished, he pulled her back into his arms and held her tightly, keeping his eyes shut and just feeling her presence. Time seemed to pass by slowly, the three minutes of waiting taking longer than an hour seemed to pass. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the timer that Irene had set went off, and Sherlock pulled away from her only after pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Thanks..." She murmured, opening the door and crossing to the counter where her phone was going off. She picked it up and slid the alarm off with a sigh before addressing the stick. She picked it up, not looking at the result right away. She looked at Sherlock, "Want the honours or shall I?" She asked him, her voice shaking slightly.

"How about you do it, it is your body after all. You should know first." Sherlock said, taking her free hand in his.

She nodded slowly, closing her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath before finally looking down at the test. Her breath hitched and she felt her eye swell with tears as she saw the thin, pink, negative line in the circle at the centre of the stick. She let out a sorrowful and curt laugh, bull of and pain. "Well..." She swallowed, willing the lump in her throat to go down. "Looks like we can turn the nursery into a sex room for us..." She muttered bitterly, trying to keep her voice as even and indifferent as possible as she avoided eye contact with him.

Sherlock tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, her words being exactly what he didn't want to hear. Taking a breath, he took the test from Irene's hand and turned her to look at him. "Hey, it's alright, everything is fine. It's still early on, so we will do the blood test. We knew that there was a possibility that it was going to be this way, and we will make do. But first, let's get the blood test done to see once and for all if you are, and we will go from there, okay. Nothing is set in stone yet." Sherlock said, pulling her into his arms again and willing tears away with force.

She choked back a sob as she nodded silently against his chest taking a moment to collect herself before pulling back and muttering, "O-okay, let's go."

Nodding slightly, Sherlock took her hand and led the way back to the sitting room, pulling her into his lap as they sat down. "Looks like we're going to need that blood test, Mycroft." Sherlock muttered in his brother's general direction as he ran his hands through Irene's hair comfortingly.

"I see," Mycroft said, taking a deep breath, "Well, I figure that in order to have the least risk taken, we draw the blood here and I will have Anthia drop it off with John at St. Barts, if that is alright with you both. I have the required materials with me, so we can get it done with soon." Mycroft said, opening his briefcase to reveal; alcohol wipes, two butterfly needles, a strip of rubber, three tubes to hold the blood, gauze, bandage wrap, and a long, clear tube to connect the needle to the holding tubes. "I was hoping, Sherlock, that you would do it." Mycroft said, looking at his brother and trying to be delicate with what he was saying.

"What, um..." Sherlock stammered, trying to find the right words, "Yes, yes of course. Just, give me 30 minutes to get us both ready, and we should be good. Thank you, Mycroft." He finished, looking at his brother in a silent 'thank you' for not mentioning his past.

Irene glanced at Sherlock, swallowing slowly as she eyed the instruments. "Mmm, already up to needles and blood are we, dear? My, my, you are kinky." She tried to tease, though her heart was not invested. The water in her eyes still swelling at the ache in her chest refusing to subside.

Sherlock could sense that she was nervous, and she was trying to lighten the mood, and so he turned to her fully, placing his hands on her arms. "Hey, look. I know that you are nervous, so am I, but I promise, I will be a gentle as I can be, and I will make it go as quickly as possible. We just need you to sit back with your arm on the armrest, and the rest is done. Okay? Just a few minutes and then we can do whatever you want." Sherlock said, his fingers tightening slightly as he spoke.

She smiled at him softly, "You're too good to me, my love. I know. I've had blood drawn before...Just...never for this reason. Thank you...thank you for being here for me...and loving me..." She muttered, hating herself for being so bloody sentimental as she sat down and laid her left arm on the padded armrest.

Sighing slightly, Sherlock turned around and, with a nod from Mycroft, set to work. He pulled on the latex gloves and grabbed the strip of rubber from the case and turned back to Irene, rolling both of her sleeves up and looking at her again. "Is there a place that is commonly used for taking blood?" he asked, feeling her antecubital for veins. Taking in the small shake of her head, Sherlock sighed and tied the strip around her upper arm and searching again for veins.

Irene glanced down at her arm, swallowing slightly, "Um, I suppose wherever my vein is the largest? Crook of my elbow? Tricep? It's been ages since I've gotten blood drawn. Forgive me, but, mind if I leave it to that clever mind of yours?" She jested half-heartedly, her voice still shaky and torn with sadness.

Nodding slightly at her words, Sherlock continued to press around her arm before settling on one located to the right of her antecubital. Turning around, he grabbed an antiseptic wipe and sanitized the area before grabbing a needle and the tubes. Tensing up as memories began to flood back, times where he stuck himself with a needle, he shook his head, "You can do this, just one prick, you've done it before, nothing bad this time." he muttered to himself. Taking a small breath, he uncapped the needle and slowly pricked her, holding the needle in place as he attached one of the tubes to the end, allowing it to fill before removing and replacing it with the next, repeating this action for all 3 tubes. Once it was done, Sherlock slid the needle from her, placing it in a bag and pressing some gauze to Irene's arm, having her hold it in place while he grabbed the medical tape and wrap. Once it was secured, he wrapped her elbow in tan medical wrap before turning and handing the tubes to Mycroft. "Make sure that John gets these, and nobody else, Mycroft." He said, watching Mycroft place them in a special carrying case.

"I assure you, Sherlock, I will personally hand them to him. Now, I will leave you to... whatever you are going to do. Either myself or Anthia will call you with the results in a few hours, tomorrow at the latest. Just try to relax." Mycroft said, picking up his briefcase and walking out of the room. "Good day, Sherlock, Miss Adler." he called, the sound of the door closing behind him ending his statement.

Irene murmured a meaningful 'thank you' as Mycroft passed, turning to Sherlock as her right hand went to cover the bandage that covered her left arm. Her mouth twisted as she let out a soft sigh, "So, darling, what would you like to do now. All there is left to do is...wait. If you'd like to pop off to the lab and have some alone time, please, feel free." She offered gently, not wanting to monopolise his time. He had spent the past few weeks with her, almost never having left her side. Her old self would have loathed this sudden dependency she felt towards him, and she worried that part of him resented it in himself. So she wanted to offer him a bit of alone time should he desire it.

"How about we go for a walk? Get out of the house for a bit, try and relax, get our minds off of all of this." Sherlock offered.

"Sherlock, really, you don't have spend every second with me if you don't want to...I'll, I'll be fine on my own if you want to go do one of your little experiments, or something..." She pressed, chuckling weakly as she tried to believe her own lie.

"I want to be with you. We've only got a few days left and then I'll be gone. I want to spend as much time as I can with you. Come on, I'll go up stairs and grab your flats and my shoes, okay? Let's go explore the forest for a bit." He said, turning and walking up the stairs, a quick wink sent in her direction.

She glanced down and smiled softly, chuckling slightly as she called after him, "Sherlock Holmes actually wanting Irene Adler's company...My, my I never thought I'd see the day..." She teased, recalling how irritated and frustrated she had used to make him. How tense he used to get at her touch or presence. She bit her lip, a tiny part of her missed being able to torture him so. It was part of their little 'game' after all. Their rather fucked up tango of love and hate...Some perverse form of foreplay that only they could understand and want-need-were born to adopt-their personas and temperaments being so very similar. They were two sides of the same disturbed coin. Yes, they were doubles alright, and they were stuck with each other...at least, she very much hoped so. Besides, she figured once the danger was gone, once Sherlock had fought his demons, and had come...home to her, they could more resume their 'love/hate' relationship, and have a bit more fun teasing and tormenting each other once more. Right now, however, time was of the essence, and words of love and tenderness, care and need, were more far important.

Sherlock smirked at her words, shaking his head slightly as he got to their room. Walking to the closet, he picked up her flats and slipped his shoes on. Putting on his coat, he tied his scarf around his neck and felt in his pocket. Feeling it empty, however, he walked over to the dresser and pulled something from the top drawer. Placing it in his pocket, he walked back downstairs and into the sitting room, handing the flats to Irene.

"Thank you, dear." Irene said, taking the Tory Burch flats from him and slipping them on quickly. "Right, to the garden?" She asked him, snaking her hands into his.

"To the garden." He replied, leading her out of the house. They walked for a little while, talking aimlessly while enjoying the soft sunlight.

She laughed, squeezing his hand as she followed him out the back door and down the stairs into the flowered garden. She took a deep breath of hair and exhaled slowly, relishing in the scent of the fresh garden air. It had been too long since she had been away and out of the city, too long since she had gone back to her baser self. She sighed softly before glancing at Sherlock, speaking carefully, "So, if...if we aren't pregnant...do you...are we..." She huffed, "I don't want you to feel like you have to love me still, or want me still, I...I would never want to handcuff you to me..." She laughed at the irony of the phrase, "I mean, I would. But not if you didn't secretly enjoy it..." She finished finally.

Thinking quietly about her words, Sherlock turned to her. "Irene, I have told you before and I will tell you again, nobody has ever made me feel this way before you, and I doubt anybody ever will. I love you, and nothing is going to change that. Besides, even if I wanted to, I couldn't get rid of you. You'd just come after me." Sherlock smirked, squeezing her hand in his. He knew that she was insecure about their relationship, and he didn't know how to make it so that she trusted that he would always be there, even when he was away.

Irene glared at him for a moment before breaking out in a soft chuckle, "Touche, touche." She murmured as they made their way through the garden. "Well, I'm glad you feel that way, because you're right, you know. I would come after you...If only just to kill you..." She said with a wink.

"Mmm...and we've seen just how that turns out." He replied, chuckling. They continued to talk for a little bit, finally sitting on a stone bench nestled in the edge of the woods.

Irene perched herself next to him, crossing her legs as her narrow eyes examined the horizon. She swallowed as she couldn't help but continue to be bothered by his words from earlier. She licked her lips slowly as she figured how to approach the subject, having no idea, just what exactly it involved. "Sherlock..." She began slowly, turning towards him and wrapping her left hand around his tenderly.

"Yes?" He replied, feeling her tense up.

She took a deep breath in before deciding to fuck it all and broach the subject. She needed to know after all, and frankly, she felt she deserved to know. "Back there...before...When you were drawing my blood...You...you seemed, despite what you asked me, to know...exactly what you were doing...at least when you choose to prick the inside of my elbow...And, and you muttered something...that I...that I'm a bit confused about, to be honest...'you've done this before...Nothing bad this time..." She paused a moment, gripping his hands tightly, afraid of just what she might be about to discover about the brilliant detective she loved so much. "What..What were you referring to..." She asked quickly and suddenly, knowing that if she didn't ask it now, she never would.

Sherlock tensed at her words, the memories flooding back like they had before. He knew that this would happen, knew that she would be curious, and he knew that Mycroft wouldn't have asked him if there was any other way. This was inevitable. "Um..." he took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts, "You have to understand, Irene, when I was growing up... I've always been able to do... what I can do, and when I was in school, I didn't know how to control it, I couldn't help but connect and analyze everything that I saw, and the kids in school didn't really... like that. I would get beaten up, bullied and picked on, and home was no better. Mycroft was the perfect son, always did what Mummy asked, and never questioned the orders. I did. I rebelled, and that made me an outcast.

By the time that I was 14... I was so bored... so easily bored... and I needed an escape... I had heard of some of the kids using cocaine, talking about how it created this feeling of excitement, like they could do anything, and I couldn't resist. I found a person who was willing to sell to a 14 year old, and that was how I got started. I didn't want to do any sensory damage, and so I injected it... I was addicted. For almost 14 years I was using, and then Mycroft found out. He came by the flat that I was staying at unannounced, and saw me with the needle.

He put the pieces together after that, my change in attitude, my mindset, everything. He tried to get me to stop, but I kept using, and he had no choice but to call the police. That's how Lestrade got involved in getting me clean. They eventually managed to get me onto smoking, and after that just patches... mainly... but they both still worried. I was clean for 4 years when I met John...When...when...I found out that you were...that you were ...'dead,' or at least, pretending to be so, I...I nearly, 'fell of the wagon,' as people say, and nearly called my old dealer. They knew that I would be on edge, and so, Mycroft tested me with a cigarette, and...and I took it. After that, John and Lestrade searched the flat for drugs, didn't find any, of course, but their minds were in the right place." He finished, taking a breath and looking off into the trees, tensing as he waited for her response.

Irene's heart swelled with frustration, disgust, sorrow, heartache, and more than anything sheer and utter love for the once drug-addict before her. She searched his eyes for a few moments before reaching her hands up to flank his face as she moved her body to crawl across and onto his lap. "Oh...oh, my darling..." She muttered, before crushing her lips to his with such titanic adornment for him and such...love for the man...she honestly felt as if she just might die. She kissed him as such before breaking away so that he could respond and react fully as he needed to. She licked her lips, "Sherlock...I...I...I had no idea...If I had...I...I would never have...I couldn't have ever done that to you...I'm...I'm so sorry..." She choked as tears began to stream down her flushed, sharp cheeks. She silently cursed herself for getting so emotional, but honestly, this was a matter that she thought deserved such a reaction.

Sherlock caught her face in his hands, brushing her tears away with his fingers before speaking. "Irene... no, it's not your fault... it's my fault. You had no idea about any of that, and how could you? I don't exactly broadcast it. Look, I'm fine now, and I won't be going back, okay. I promise, I will never go back to it. Trust me. Please, don't blame yourself for my time of weakness." He said, pressing his lips to hers forcefully, reassuring himself of his words.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she wiped her tears away with her left hand, before wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in the crook of his neck, "Don't you bloody dare, Mr Holmes, or I will kill you...And don't you dare think I'm kidding, I know someone-or rather-I know what he likes...-" She couldn't help but tease, kissing the birthmark mole on his neck a dozen times before resting her head against his shoulder once more.

Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he pulled her close to him, burying his face in her hair, whispering 'I love you' over and over to her.

Irene kissed his neck once more before whispering, "God spite me, I love you too, Mr Sherlock Holmes, I love you too." She gripped him tighter, if that was even possible, before leaning back and searching his eyes, her blue/sapphire ones meeting his. She smiled at him weakly, so much pregnant in her heart, so many feelings that she had never wanted to feel for another human; too care so much. "Sherlock...I..." But her voice failed her and she let it rest, biting her lip softly as her left hand unconsciously went to clutch her empty womb.

Sherlock couldn't respond, knowing exactly what she meant. Instead, he gently removed her from his lap and undid his scarf, removing his coat at the same time, and moving to kneel on the ground. Looking at her, with her tear stained eyes and cheeks, he took a deep breath, and spoke.

"Irene Adler, ever since I first saw you, in your 'battle dress' as you call it, I couldn't help but think of you. I know that we do not have much time left to be together, and I know that you have doubts on the basis of our relationship, but I love you, and nothing is going to change that." with this he pulled out a blue box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a beautifully crafted diamond ring, set in white gold and paired on each side with a blue sapphire. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me, Irene Adler?" He finished, looking into her eyes.

Irene's eyes couldn't help but well at his words, though she almost barely heard them so taken and shocked was she by the teal, blue box and the enormous pearl cut diamond-flanked by two sapphires-nonetheless. She felt the tears roll down her cheeks once again, yet they were birthed out of sheer happiness and joy. A smile broke across her face followed by a short chuckle, "Oh, Mr Holmes...What do you think I'll say? Yes, yes, yes, of course I'll marry you...I...I want nothing more than to be...your Mrs Holmes..." She grimaced suddenly, "Oh God, did I just say that?...We'll discuss the last name thing...But...but, yes, you, frustratingly, brilliant, perfect, beautiful man. I would be honoured." Reaching up to press her lips against his softly, chastely.

Sherlock could feel his heart lift at her words, a smile breaking onto his face. Slowly, he removed the ring from the box and set it down, grabbing her left hand and sliding it on. A perfect fit. Once that was done, he picked her up quickly and spun her around in sheer joy, his lips pressed firmly to hers. Setting her down again, he looked deep into her eyes, whispering "My Irene, my Irene Holmes."

She kissed his lips once more, before pulling back and rolling her eyes, her hands resting against his chest. "Oh, God, I honestly feel like I should be vomiting from the bloody...sentiment...of it all." She murmured softly, resting her forehead against his. "I 'hate' you." She whispered, know full well he would know that words mean the exact opposite.

Sherlock laughed at her words, pressing his lips to hers again. "I love you, too." He said, his eyes alight with happiness.

She giggled-though she was loathed employ that word-and nuzzled her head against his neck. She took a few moments to just...be...To just be with him, closing her eyes tightly. "Sherlock..." She finally murmured, her tone taking on a much darker, sensual mood.

Sherlock could sense the change in her mood, and immediately changed to match her. "Yes, Irene?" He asked, his voice taking a husky tone as he pulled her in tighter against him.

She couldn't help but grin at him wickedly as she repositioned herself so that she was straddling his lap, much like she had that first time she had met him. She licked her lips slowly as her eyes darted from his eyes to his mouth, beginning to feel the throb of need and desire at her core. She pushed him back against the back of the bench as she ground her arse into his groin, "Think, Mr Holmes, it's the new sexy." She husked lowly, moving her mouth around to nibble on his earlobe as her hands snaked through his raven locks, grasping at his scalp fiercely.

"Mmmm..." he groaned, loving the feel of her pulling his hair. "How about we... take this inside..." he managed to get out, his eyes closing slowly.

Irene pulled back a raised a brow. She shifted her hips against him once more, "Do we need to, Mr Holmes? You don't seem...very...'excited' to me..." She murmured, as her hand snaked between them and quickly began to undo his belt and trousers, silently wondering if he would stop her.

"Trust me..." he said "I am most definitely excited." He caught her hand and pulled her close, pressing his lips to her ear. "Think of it this way, love, should we really scar my brother even more in just one day? He did, after all, design this place." He whispered, hinting to the fact of hidden cameras around the grounds.

Irene chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips softly, "Whilst I appreciate you wanting to keep this 'private' and are deterred by the potential use of CCTV cameras, I can assure you, my darling, that I've been in front of a camera before..." She winked coquettishly, before adding, "Perhaps I might just get you behind one as well one day...Make a little 'home' video, etc. But for now, given the 'disgusting' romance of this all, yes, let's retire to our room, I'm about to shag you silly." She replied lowly, launching herself off of him and grabbing his hand as she girlishly tugged him inside.

"I'm counting on it, dear." He replied, following her inside and up the stairs, chuckling as she forced him down onto the bed.

Sex Scene Starts Here

Irene straddled him on the bed, her dress hitching up to her waist as she leaned down and kissed his collarbone lightly. Her hands slid up and down his chest, slowly undoing the buttons on his plum shirt, her nails raking down his pale, almost hairless chest as she kissed her way up his neck to his earlobe once more, biting it harshly as the floor of her pelvis ground into his groin.

Sherlock groaned at her ministrations, his hands moving to undo the back of her dress, eye hook and all. "God, Irene..." he whispered as she moved against him, the friction feeling wonderful after he was denied that morning.

She smirked as she felt his member begin to harden beneath her centre. She decided to tease him a bit. "Yes, Mr Holmes?" She purred, running her hands up to pull her dress down over her breasts and torso, thus exposing her bra and chest to him. She then quickly reached down and threw off her Tory Burch flats before getting up off the bed quickly and tugging her dress down and off of her. She glanced back and him and raised her eyebrows suggestively before slowly remounting him once more. She was now only clad in her black, lace, sheer bra and matching knickers. Irene glanced down again at the growing bulge in his trousers and smirked smugly to herself. "Feeling alright?" She asked him 'dumbly,' as her hands slid up to the bit of exposed chest she had granted herself access to before.

"You have no idea." He said, his hands moving to massage her breasts, her smooth skin like silk under his touch. She looked so...ravishing in her sheer undergarments. He groaned as she moved, her pelvis grinding against his still clothed erection.

She couldn't help but chuckle at his more than obvious reaction. She glared down at him, his chest heaving against his purple shirt; his member straining against his trousers. She licked her lips once more before smacking his hands away playfully. She ran her hands behind her back, unhitching her bra in a fluid motion and tossing it aside, allowing her breasts to bounce before him as she ran her hands up her form, and over her breasts-pausing to tweak her nipples before continuing up her neck and into the dark folds of her hair.

Sherlock groaned as she moved, placing his hands on her waist and grinding upwards, lifting himself up to kiss her neck, sucking on the soft skin.

She couldn't help but bite her lower lip as she felt his fingers digging into her hips. She took her hands from his hair and finished undoing the rest of his shirt buttons before tearing the fabric away from his chest and leaning down to run her tongue up his pale abdomen, until she reached his sternum.

A moan tore through Sherlock as he felt her move down, her tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake. He moved his arms to let the shirt fall off, his head falling back, and his eyes closing, the only thing keeping him up was the grip he had on her waist. Slowly, he ground his hips against hers, relishing in the feelings created.

She paused her onslaught of his chest, to chuckle wickedly as she felt his erection rubbing against her apex through his trousers. "Mm, Mr Holmes, are you feeling horny?" She asked his darkly, moving her mouth up to nip along his collarbone as her hands roamed his pecs.

"Mmm..." he moaned, "I'm very... passionate, Miss Adler." he whispered, his hands moving to squeeze her rear as he nipped at her neck.

She nodded against his neck, "Yes, my dear, much to my surprise, and pleasure, you are. However, that bulge in your trousers is getting rather...large, must be...uncomfortable, no?" She husked, kissing her way up his neck and along his jaw bone as she rocked her hips against his pelvis once more.

Sherlock groaned as Irene moved, his head falling back and his arms tightening around her. "God, Irene... please..." he gasped, grinding up to meet her. "I... I need you..."

Irene smirked devilishly to herself, as cruel but oh so tempting idea popping into her mind. She knew that after such a romantic, beautiful gesture, a normal couple would make sweet, adoring love, however, they were not a normal couple, and never would be-God willing. So, Irene as going to take a page out of her old book, and relieve them of a bit of sentiment for a time-they could only take so much emotion, and she knew that as the day that he had to leave came closer and closer, they would surely return to the 'dreaded' S-word. So these thoughts running through her mind, Irene Adler-the once world-class dominatrix, determined to torment her lovely detective for a bit; perhaps, even wait til he 'begged for mercy twice.'

"What's that, Mr Holmes?" She asked, feigning ignorance as she sat back on his groin area and quirked a brow. Her hands slowly, and lazily danced down his chest before landing on his belt buckle and pausing as she glanced up at him innocently.

"I need you, Irene... please, fuck..." he moaned, rolling his hips up to meet hers roughly.

She cocked her head to the side, and adopted a concerned, sympathetic face, "Yes, darling? Whatever do you need? You're not feeling ill, are you? You look quite flushed." She bit her lip in an effort not laugh. God, she was evil, and she was enjoying every minute of it.

Suddenly it clicked, 'oh that little minx', he couldn't help but think, finally catching on to what she was doing. Clearing his throat, he shook his head slightly and replied "What? No, no I'm fine. Bit bored, honestly, but I'm fine. Why do you ask?" He smirked slightly, removing his arms from around her.

Irene narrowed her eyes at him, struck by his sudden reversal in behaviour. She licked her lips as she quickly realised that he had obviously figured out her little ploy, and was counter attacking with feigned indifference and uninterest. Fine, if he wanted to play chess, he had better get ready, because Irene Adler was not one to lose.

"Oh, you're bored are you? I'm sorry, would you like me get you a toy to play with? Your chemistry set, perhaps?" She asked him politely, crossing her arms over her chest as she ever so slowly ground her pelvis floor against his shaft.

Sherlock bit back a groan and forced himself to be unresponsive in her actions as he looked at her. "Hmm... I think I may go compose for a little while, if you don't mind." He replied, searching her face for a reaction.

She quirked a brow, "Oh? Alright then, if that's what you feel like doing, be my guest." She murmured, lifting herself off of him and positioning herself on the empty side of the bed against the headboard.

Smirking slightly, Sherlock got off of the bed and walked to where he kept his violin and sheet music, picking out an unfinished piece and studying it while keeping a slight eye on Irene, his throbbing member not far from his thoughts.

Irene hissed lowly to herself as she watched him get up nonchalantly, the only evidence of his divided mind being the raging tent that was pitched in his trousers. Well, that was something at least. Irene mused to herself, grateful that women didn't have such an obvious problem when it came to becoming aroused. "Well, if you're going to play your instrument, then I'll play 'mine.'" She murmured vaguely, stealing a glance at him as she lazily began to run her right hand down the valley of her breasts, and wondering how long it would take him to deduce what she was about to do.

Sherlock heard her mutter to herself and, knowing exactly what she was going to do, picked up his violin and bow and began to play the melody, his thoughts straying to the woman laying on their bed. Methodically, he played the tune, his fingers brushing the strings subconsciously, allowing his mind to wander.

She eyed him darkly, as he seemed to be focused only on the music in front of him as he plucked at the strings. Her mind couldn't help but recall what those same fingers felt like on her, in her. She groaned internally at him, deciding that she would have to bring the big guns out now. She hummed softly to herself as she slid her hands down and slipped off her knickers, tossing them in his direction 'absentmindedly' before placing her right hand to her inner thigh as she spread her legs open. She then traced circles up it, pausing as she came to her folds. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as as ran her two index fingers up and down her slit, gasping slightly as she felt just how wet she was. She brought then brought her digits up to her clit, which was swollen and pulsing, and circled her fingers around it, before tapping it lightly, a hitched moan escaping her throat at the jolts of pleasure that began to shoot through her body. "Mmm..." She husked, her other hand beginning to twerk her left nipple.

Sherlock's breathing hitched as he heard a gasp and moan come from behind him, his fingers faltering slightly in their movement. He could feel his member throbbing in his trousers, begging to be touched, but instead he continued to play, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself.

Irene opened her eyes for a moment to inspect what Sherlock was focused on, having heard at note slip slightly. She scowled as she saw that his eyes were still intently on the music sheet in front of him. She closed her eyes once more as she began to rub her her clit lightly once more, alternating between clockwise and counterclockwise directions. Her breathing increased as her body began to tingle slightly. She then moved her hand down her folds and slowly inserted her middle finger in her entrance, letting out a moan much like the text alert tone she had made for Sherlock's phone as she began to pump her finger in and out of her, her back arching up as her thumb continued its assault on her nub.

Sherlock heard her moan and swallowed, giving in slightly and glancing over at her. He caught his breath at the sight of her, legs splayed and eyes closed, her back arched gracefully, her face slack with pleasure. Moving slowly, he placed his violin down, grabbing a pencil and filling in some measures for the piece, his other hand moving to slowly rub himself through his trousers as he listened to her.

She opened her eyes to look at him, her breath falling short as she did a double take, unable to believe what he was apparently about to use her own medicine against her and touch himself as well. She had only ever heard him talk about having masturbated before, and even then, it was a rare thing for him. She clenched her jaw and swallowed as before closing her eyes once more before beginning to fuck herself harder. "Mmm, fuck...I'm wet...How's your fingering going over there, Mr Holmes?" She murmured, bringing her left hand down from her breast to massage her clit as her other hand continued to thrust in and out.

"It's coming along, if I do say so myself." He replied, his eyes skimming the sheet music and making changes as he went along with the pencil, his other hand increasing its movement as he fought to keep his voice steady. He could hear her breathing increase, smell her arousal, and it was doing wondrous things to his own body.

Irene's breath increased as she fingered herself faster, beginning to feel herself broach the brink of orgasm, "Fuck...Sherlock...I always make myself come so much faster when I'm thinking of you...even before we...ahh, shit...Mmm...got together...Oh, ah...Oh...I'm so close..." She breathed.

Sherlock groaned, putting the pencil down and undoing his trousers, letting them pool around his feet along with his boxers, palming his fully erect member. Turning around, he saw Irene, flushed and near orgasm, and his resolve broke. Quickly, he made his way over to her, moving to pin her hands next to her head, hovering above her. His lips quickly found the crook of her neck, nipping and sucking on the soft skin. "You are so beautiful, Irene... God, I need you." he muttered, breathing deep.

Irene snaked her hands up his chest and to his shoulders, digger her nails into his skin as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her centre hitting his cock suddenly. "I need you too, my love." She husked, her hands moving up to tangle themselves in his hair.

Sherlock groaned as she moved, adjusting himself to massage her breast, taking on of her nipples on his mouth and sucking gently, one hand moving to tease the other one.

She arched her back, her abdomen pressing against his as her grip tightened on his locks, "Uh, fuck, Sherlock..." She moaned, bucking her hips up again. "I...I...Ugh, fuck me. Please, my darling, please!" She begged him.

Sherlock pressed his lips to hers, closing his eyes as he ground into her. "How do you want me, my dear?" he whispered, nipping her bottom lip with his teeth.

Irene thought a moment, momentarily placing her desperate, urgent need for him on hold as she contemplated how she desired him. "Mm, darling, did you...did you like...taking me from behind that one time...?" She asked him curiously, her hand moving up to stroke his flushed cheek.

He did enjoy it, very much. "Yes," he muttered, "is that how you would like it?" He asked, his hands moving to her waist, gripping her tight as his lips moved to her neck again.

She blushed, if that was even possible given how aroused she was and how much blood was flowing through her body. She nodded slowly, "Mm, yes, I, I suppose having been the dominate on for most of my life it's sort of...exciting to to be taken so...roughly..." She murmured, "But only if you get off on it as well, my love." She added quickly, wanting to make sure he wanted it as much as she did.

Sherlock let out a soft, low chuckle at her words, finding it hard to imagine any position with her that wouldn't get him off. "Most definitely." he murmured, moving to sit on his knees so that she could adjust herself as she saw fit.

She flashed him a grin, clambering up onto her own knees as she moved to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before giving him a wink, and turning over to get on her hands and knees. She parted her legs and and caved her back down to thrust her her arse and centre and at him. She turned her head back to glance over her shoulder, "Well, Mr Holmes, I'm waiting..." She husked.

Smirking at her words, he moved to press himself against her, guiding his member slowly into her centre, groaning as he did so. Once he was in, he bent forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her back and shoulders, slowly moving within her. "Irene..." he moaned, his mind lost in clouds of pleasure.

Irene's fingers clutched at the loose sheets of their bed, her hands fisting into balls as she moaned in sheer pleasure and bliss at his arrival. She had been more than ready for him, and he had slid in with ease, though it alway astounded her just how well endowed he was. She was a petite woman and she always found that it took a minute or two for her to adjust herself around him fully. It always took a good few pumps and thrusts to loosen her up; but the titanic pleasure that came after the very brief moments of initial discomfort were so worth it, it didn't even matter. "Mmm, Mr Holmes, you feel so very good..." She husked, thrusting her arse back in eager need and demand for him to begin to pump into her.

Sherlock could feel her eagerness and moved faster, one hand making its way to caress her breast, teasing the supple flesh in rhythm with his strokes. He could feel heat pool in his abdomen, a coil tensing, getting ready to break.

She bit her lip, her breath heavy and forced as she whimpered at each of his thrusts, her body receiving him with such greedy need she felt she would explode. She felt the deep tingling sensation stem from her centre and begin to spread through her core and limbs as she let out a cry of euphoric bliss. "Ah! Sherlock, harder, please..." She begged.

Sherlock heard her cry out and began to pound into her, kissing and stroking in time with his hips. He was so close, one the edge of euphoria, and just needed a small push to make him fall. "Fuck, Irene... I'm so close..." he groaned against her skin.

Irene let out a primitive growl at his words, absolutely adoring hearing those words on his lips. Know full well that she had been the only woman to ever inspire them, that ever would inspire them, in him. She felt her knuckles turning white as she let out a cry of ecstasy, "Fuck, I'm about to come, just...don't...don't...stop...harder...faster...Co me in me, Mr Holmes..." She pleaded, her walls beginning to clench around him.

Her words, coupled with the tightening of her walls sent him over the edge. He slammed into her, white hot ecstasy taking over his mind. "Fuck... Irene!" he yelled, his body convulsing as he rode out his orgasm.

She hung on for a few moments longer, until his sudden, urgent, thrusts sent her over the edge and she fell of whatever ledge she had been standing on, she had now jumped off and was falling-or perhaps, rising-she couldn't be sure-until she crashed onto his shores, her body shuddering beneath him, her walls closing around him once more as she contorted slightly, her toes curling. "Fuck...!" She nearly screamed as she let her orgasm take over.

Sex Scene Ends Here

Sherlock felt like he was falling, his body felt weightless as he came down from his orgasm. Gasping unevenly for breath, he slowed his motions before stopping completely, gently allowing himself to fall to the side, head hitting a pillow as he pulled Irene down with him, keeping his arms wrapped around her.

Irene sighed contently, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. "I love you..." She whispered.

"And I love you." he replied, holding her hand in his, fingering the ring that now rested there.

She pulled her hand out of his and held it up, admiring the stones and the glint of the diamonds and the sapphires against the overhead light. "Why this specific ring, Sherlock?" She asked him slowly.

Sherlock thought for a moment about his response, staring at the ring. "When we first me, there was a ring on your right hand that held a single pearl. Traditionally, however, an engagement ring has a diamond as the main stone. Because of this, I got a ring with a pearl cut diamond. One thing that you always seemed to mention through texts was my scarf, and what you would do to me with it. That explains the blue sapphires, a reference to my scarf. The design of the band, however, is intricate, woven and complicated, seeming to end yet it continues on someplace else. That represents our entire relationship, the unexpected beginning, to the very... eventful times to come." Sherlock said, taking her hand in his and pressing his lips to the ring gently.

Irene felt her eyes begin to water as she quickly turned over to lay on her stomach, looking at him before letting her tears cascade down, not caring any more, as she brought her hands to his neck and brought her lips to his chastely. She left them there, pressed hard against his for a few moments, before pulling back to search his eyes. "Sherlock...sometimes I truly feel like I was...born when I met you...I know that's, God, it's dreadfully sentimental, but it's true...You gave me life, when I thought I had one. And for that, Mr Holmes, I am ever in your debt."

"And you brought something into my life that I never thought that I would have, Miss Adler... happiness. I was always bored, or working a case, or doing something in the lab, that I never gave myself time for happiness, and for that I thank you. I believe that because of that, we are even in debts." he replied, smiling as he looked into her eyes.

The two laid in bed for what seemed like hours, enjoying each others company and just relaxing as the sun moved from window to window. They had been there for a while, when Sherlock heard it. From across the room, where the dresser was, his cell phone rang. Both Irene and Sherlock tensed as they let it sink in, this was going to be the final answer. Glancing over at Irene quickly, Sherlock got out of bed walked over to the dresser, picking up the phone and putting it on speaker.

"Yes, Mycroft?" He asked, walking over to sit on the side of the bed, taking Irene's hand in his.

"Sherlock." Mycroft said stiffly, swallowing as he swirled a shot or two of whiskey in a crystal class.

"What is it Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, swallowing around a lump in his throat as he squeezed Irene's hand tightly.

Mycroft took a sip of his drink, clearing his throat before replying, "...I...I have the blood test results..."

Sherlock couldn't help but roll his eyes at his brothers words, feeling exasperated. "Yes, dear brother, we figured that was the reason for the call. Now, what do they say?" He couldn't help but bite out, hating that his brother liked to draw things out unnecessarily.

"Are you...seated?" He asked his little brother slowly.

"Yes, now what is it, Mycroft?" he asked again, this time a bit of panic seeping into his voice.

Mycroft sighed, a hint of amusement in the exhale, however, as he said, "Well, looks like I'm going to be an Uncle...Congratulations, dear, brother, you, believe it or not, are going to be...a father."

Sherlock nearly dropped the phone at his brother's words. He could hear Irene gasp beside him, and took a breath to calm himself. "Are you sure, Mycroft? Is that what John said?" He asked quickly, needing to be absolutely positive.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Yes, of course I'm 'sure,' Sherlock! And yes, John was positive. Said the first test was just a false negative and that some hormonal levels measure differently, or some jargon, I'm not sure, and I didn't ask for details. But, Miss Adler, is definitely with child, and I'm assuming, it could only be yours, hmm?"

"Yes, of course it is mine. Thank you, Mycroft." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes at his brother's words. He could feel a smile appearing on his face slowly as the news set in.

Irene crawled towards the end of the bed where Sherlock was seated, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed the back of his shoulder tenderly. She pressed her face into the back of his neck as she waited for him to finish the call, closing her eyes as she clutch to him tightly, unable to believe what she had just heard. She, she, Irene Adler, was going to be a mother.

"Well, good, I'm pleased to hear it." Mycroft retorted. "She'll need a follow up appointment in a couple of weeks...John...John...should probably be her doctor...if you agree...If you can face...it...him." Mycroft murmured quietly, taking another sip.

"Yes, we want John to be the physician. I wouldn't trust anyone else." Sherlock replied, closing his eyes to ward off the inevitable emotions that came with a mention of John.

"Good...good. I...I think that would be best." Mycroft agreed softly, almost tenderly. He cleared his throat once more. "Right, well, that's all I wanted to say...I'll leave you two...to whatever it was...Eh, goodbye, brother. If you need me, just call. Good day, Sherlock."

"Good day, Mycroft." Sherlock said, ending the phone call. Placing the phone on the bedside table, he turned to Irene, his eyes wide with disbelief, shock, and mainly love. "Irene..." He whispered, unsure of what to say now.

She clutched her arms around his neck tighter, kissing the back of his neck a dozen times before a low rumble of joyous laughter escaped her chest. "...Hamish?!" She couldn't help but giggle, referencing John's baby name suggestion all those months ago.

Sherlock laughed, "Yeah, Hamish. But, what if, for a girl; Ashlyn? Hamish is a wonderful name, but there is no guarantee that they will be a boy." He replied, offering up a name that had been on his mind since he found out that he might be a father.

Iren bit her lip, thinking his suggestion over a moment before replying, "It's beautiful, Sherlock." She quickly jumped off the bed before climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck from the front once more. She sighed happily, resting her head against his right shoulder before murmuring, "Are you...are you...happy?"

"Of course I'm happy, Irene! I never dreamed of having a child, and you have given me just that! Why wouldn't I be happy?" He asked incredulously, thinking that he had proven already that he wanted her, and their child.

She sighed softly, "Forgive me, dear, I was just making sure, you weren't using me for my body." She teased, leaning up to kiss the mole on his neck fondly.

"Of course not, love." He replied, chuckling slightly. Sherlock reached behind him and pulled Irene around, causing her to sit sideways on his legs with his arms wrapped around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She pulled back to meet his blue eyes, a darker shade from the recent physical exertion they had just performed, "I love you, Mr Sherlock Holmes." She whispered quietly.

"And I love you, Mrs Irene Holmes" He replied, loving the way the name rolled across his tongue.

And there we go! Engaged and pregnant! Sorry for the bit of angst, but we thought that it would be necessary. Anyways, hope you liked it, and if you have any ideas, requests, or comments, just leave a review! Until next time, guys!