An Affair to Remember-Sherlock Fanfic

Ball of Fire

John smiled as he looked up at Sherlock. "You look sexy in that desert garb."

Sherlock came off to the world as an uncaring machine but as he held John in his arms his sensitive nature released itself-freedom. His green eyes bored into John's in awe at the miracle he held in his arms-John. Without a word Sherlock washed John's face with a cool cloth, letting his nimble fingers rub the knot of tension out of his neck.

John pulled Sherlock's face closer to his and place a light kiss on his lips. Eagar as always Sherlock responded and then pulled away. "John, you may have to go home without me."

John wiggled out of Sherlock's grasp as he said, "No way."

Sherlock looked uncomfortable and then continued on. "John, the trip may be arduous. I'm afraid it will be too much for you."

"Really? That's not the impression I got," John said as he enjoyed his moment of knowing something that Sherlock didn't.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he observed John's superior attitude. "Fine, spill it, Doctor. What do you know?"

John grinned at Sherlock as he said, "We are going somewhere in a helicopter and as for spilling it come here. We have at least two hours before the chopper and I want you to make love to me, Doctor's orders."

Sherlock wanted to ask more questions but the need for John weakened his stoic facade. "Well, only a fool argues with his Doctor."

John chuckled and then began to gasp as Sherlock's lips touched his. With one touch, John's mirth segued into passion. "Sherlock, how do you always know what to do?"

Sherlock laughed as his hands moved deeper into the folds of John's robe. "It's elementary, John. I've studied you from top to bottom. The way your skin heats us when I do this," Sherlock whispered as he rubbed John's earlobe. "Or the way your pulse quickens when I place your body here," Sherlock said as he moved John's hips in between his thighs. "Or the way you moan when I place my lips here....," Sherlock said as he gravitated towards John's pleasure center.

John's eyes closed as he dug his fingers into Sherlock's curly hair. "Yes, Sherlock you know everything."

Sherlock chuckled as he stopped what he was doing and looked up at John. "Nonsense, no person could possibly know everything. I specialize."

"Oh god yes," John breathed, letting his last word of coherence fade into a moan.

Sherlock paused to memorize the way John looked as he lay back. His lips were full, flushed, moist and quivering. His hair congregated in sweaty curls behind his ears, as his chest heaved up and down to control his breathing. His hands as his fingers fisted the sheets, but most of all Sherlock memorized the contorted features of John's face as he let Sherlock be his guide through every erogenous spot on his body.

A few hours later and John sat strapped in the passenger seat of the chopper. Sherlock sat behind him leaning over his shoulder as they became air bound. Much to Sherlock's alarm, John held out his arms as if a bird in flight. Sherlock scowled over at Laura's amused expression and just held John tighter.

"This feels great," John said as he let himself go.

Still annoyed at Laura, Sherlock released a sarcastic verbal barb at John. "It's just a chopper ride and it beats walking." As soon as he said it Sherlock wished he could whisk his careless words back. "John, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that..."

John leaned back against the headrest and rolled his eyes back at Sherlock. "That's okay, Sherlock."

But it wasn't okay and Sherlock felt grim for the rest of their journey. By the time they landed at a Bedouin camp just outside of Petra, Sherlock had allowed his foul mood overtake him. After setting up camp, everyone had dinner and then sat back around the fire.

Laura informed them that a contact would meet them with details of the statue's last known whereabouts, which Sherlock suspected she already knew. "What's she up to?" Sherlock said as he scowled in Laura's direction.

John stuffed his mouth with more flat bread and hummus and then shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Hey, do you think we could go for a nice moonlit ride to Petra?"

Still peeved Sherlock sighed, "John, this isn't an Indiana Jones movie. The desert is a dangerous place at night."

John popped an olive into his mouth and then answered in a downcast tone, "Fine, let's just go to sleep, then."

Sherlock sighed as he went out to find a guide. If John wanted a moonlit ride to Petra, he was going to get it.

Sherlock led John's horse down the trail, watching the Bedouin guide as he took them through the desert. Laura followed at a discrete distance, not wanting Sherlock or John out of her reach for long. They had only gone a short distance when a rumbling noise caught Sherlock's attention. He turned behind him to see the source. It was a huge ball of fire that lit up the desert."

"What is it?" John asked.

"Someone just blew up our camp". Sherlock said as he looked over at Laura, noting that she was as shocked as he.