Sentiment {Sherlock BBC}

27. "IOU"

"What did I say? I said, "Don't get clever."" John scolded Sherlock as we got him out of his cell.

"I can't just turn it on and off like a tap." Sherlock responded signing a paper and collecting his items from the custody counter.

"Well?" Sherlock asked as we began walking out.

"Well what?" John asked.

"You both were there for the whole thing, up in the gallery, start to finish." He said.

"Like you said it would be. Jim's barrister sat on his backside, never even stirred." John said.

"Moriarty's not mounting any defense." Sherlock said. Sherlock took my hand and looked at John. "I'm going to take her to lunch, I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," John nodded to us. He walked off toward a taxi as Sherlock and I walked down the street.

"I can't believe you Sherlock," I smiled at him. Despite my smile, he still looked at me confused.

"What? Have I done something else?"

"No. You're just... different." I sighed, giggling slightly.

"You just now are realizing that? Maybe I've been giving you too much credit," he began and I smacked his arm. Before I could pull my hand back to my side he took me by my wrist and pulled me to him. He pressed his lips to mine and I wrapped my arms around him, running my fingers through his massive head of curls. We heard what sounded like a stampede of feet clapping against the sidewalk. We both looked up to see reporters running our way. Sherlock held his arm up for a cab and we climbed in before they reached us.

"Baker Street please." Sherlock said. So much for lunch.

It's been six weeks since Moriarty broke into three different locations.

"All we know is..." I said to Sherlock as he stood in front of me.

"He ended up in custody." Sherlock said looking at me.

"Don't do that." I sighed.

"Do what?" Sherlock asked in a voice that made my stomach flutter.

"The look." I said.

"Look?" Sherlock asked.

"You're doing the look again." I said.

"Well, I can't see it, can I?" Sherlock sassed. I pointed to the mirror above the fireplace and Sherlock looked at himself.

"It's my face." He said.

"Yes, and it's doing a thing. You're doing a "we both know what's really going on here" face." I sighed.

"Well, we do." He said like a child who was trying to get their parent to agree with them.

"No. I don't, which is why John and I find The Face so annoying." I sighed.

"If Moriarty wanted the Jewels, he'd have them." He began.

"Obviously." I agreed.

"If he wanted those prisoners free, they'd be out on the streets. The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there." Sherlock said and I nodded. "Somehow this is part of his scheme." He said. I sighed watching Sherlock pace in front of me. I reached out and placed my hands to his chest.

"Why don't we... relax?" I smiled softly.

"How do you suppose we do that?" he asked. Simply hearing him say "we" made my heart flutter. I ran my hands up his chest to the top button of his shirt and unbuttoned it, then the next and the next when he connected our lips hungrily. I finished his shirt then threw my arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I pushed away and kicked off my shoes as I began walking back to his room. I stood in the hallway and smirked at him before walking into his room. I pulled my shirt over my head and listened for his footsteps, but didn't hear them, I frowned as I tossed my shirt to the ground and spun toward the door to see him standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.