After The Fall || A Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 12 - Rain

Everyone now knew about Sherlock and Jemima being together. Lestrade's jaw almost hit the floor when they told him about it. Jemima now seemed to be spending most of her time in 221B instead of her own flat.

"It's raining." Sherlock stated plainly, staring out of the window holding his violin.

"Well observed." Jemima said sarcastically, not looking up from her laptop.

"I was going to take you somewhere but it's raining now." He said grumpily. He held up his violin and began playing Fur Elise, one of his favourites.

"Let's go anyway. Rain doesn't matter." Jemima replied over the delicately played music.

"Alright, but make sure you you take a coat. It's cold out there." He told her.

"You're turning into your mother you know.."

"I am not!" He said indignantly.

"You really are." Jemima raised an eyebrow at him and stood up. She walked over to their coats and threw Sherlock's over to him. She shrugged her own around her shoulders. It was a design similar to Sherlock's but baby blue instead of dark. It had a hood as well but she never used it as she also had a habit of wearing it with the collar turned up. She also grabbed her fluffy mustard yellow scarf from the peg and a matching bobble hat, which she pulled on over her golden brown curls. She wrapped the scarf loosely around her neck and made to leave.

"No! Don't wear it like that! It defeats the whole point of a scarf! Here, let me." Sherlock undid the scarf and tied it around her neck in the same style as his own. His nimble, thin fingers brushed Jemima's neck gently and she felt shivers go down her spine. His touch was delicate, with the precision of a skilled violinist. Sherlock gave her hair a quick stroke before taking her hand and leading her downstairs into the rain.

He quickly hailed a taxi and jumped into the back seat with Jemima. She was very confused and tried to work out where they might be going. Sherlock saw her face as she tried to make deductions, she kept screwing up her eyes trying to concentrate. She didn't realise she was doing it. Sherlock found it cute. After a few minutes they pulled up outside a small local park and he dragged her out of the car. They walked through the park's main gates after paying the driver. They started to walk along the wide, gravel path that wound its way through the park like a snake. They didn't stay on it for long though, Sherlock grabbed Jemima's hand and broke into a light jog, pulling her along across the wet grass. They sped through a clump of trees and bushes, going slightly uphill and laughing the whole time. They came out in a tiny clearing in the shrubbery. It provided them with shelter from the rain and was surprisingly cosy. Nobody else looking up would be able to see them but looking down Sherlock and Jemima could see everyone who walked past.

"I used to come up here all the time when I first moved here." Sherlock explained. "Whenever I needed to get away from anything, or to think about a difficult case, I would come up here. It's relaxing. Is like nothing can get to me as long as I'm here. And... I've never shown it to anybody before."

"I'm glad you showed it to me," Jemima said, sitting down in the clearing with him. "I love it."

She snuggled into Sherlock's arms, leaning her head on his shoulder as they watched the people walk past below them. He leant his back on the trunk of the tree behind him and sighed contentedly. He wrapped his arms around Jemima and held her close. The only sounds were the people in the park and the pattering rain hitting the leaves above them. They sat there for a long while, both comfortable in each other's warm embrace until Sherlock shuffled round slightly to look straight at Jemima. She stared back at him and tilted her head to one side as if to say "What is it?" In answer, Sherlock held up a hand and stroked her cheek gently.

"You're so beautiful." He said quietly. He didn't know where his words were coming from. He'd never dreamed of saying that to anybody until now.

Jemima smiled and kissed him. He kissed her back and she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling them even closer. They kissed for a long time before they finally decided to leave. It was pouring with rain and there were no taxis in sight. They had been there so long that the stars were starting to twinkle above them, struggling to break through the daylight, and the street lamps were glowing deep orange in the last rays of sun. They had to walk all the way back to Baker Street. It wasn't far but when they burst through the door to 221B they were completely soaked and shivering with cold. Mrs Hudson came out into the hallway and saw them trudging up the stairs. She smiled at their backs and retreated back into her kitchen.

Sherlock and Jemima walked into 221B and within minutes, were out of their wet clothes. They ended up kissing on Sherlock's bed. He was pinning her down by her arms but was surprisingly gentle. She struggled playfully as he restrained her, peppering rough kisses along her neck. She did the same to him, reaching up and gently nibbling at his neck, making him close his eyes and sigh softly with pleasure. They were both going to wake up with bruises in the morning, he thought. He began to kiss her hungrily on the lips, pressing himself up against her. He slid a hand down her thigh, teasing her. She pressed closer to him as he did it, egging him on. He kissed her harder and she moaned at his touch.

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The couple lay together in bed, thoroughly exhausted and entwined with each other. Sherlock glanced down at Jemima's legs. He had known she had scars before he saw them but he had still been caught somewhat off-guard. He couldn't help but stare. They snaked up and down the full length of both of her legs but Sherlock wasn't put off, he instead thought about what she must have been through to survive the bomb that nearly left her with no legs at all. She caught him looking and smiled sadly.

"I didn't think you'd be interested in my scars. You have enough of your own." She touched a gentle finger to the scar from the bullet wound that had ripped through his chest. That was all Mary's fault. He remembered that night. Trying desparately to save John's marriage while in terrible pain. He remembered the look on John's face while he was being surrounded by the paramedics in the flat. Jemima saw his face fall.

"I'm sorry. " she said.

"It's alright." He replied. He brought her under the bedcovers and they lay there, facing each other. They gripped each other tight and stayed like that until they fell asleep.

Sherlock was awoken in the middle of the night by Jemima writhing in her sleep. She was mumbling things and sounded distressed. Sherlock quickly shook her out of her nightmare. She sat up, breathing heavily. She tried to tell Sherlock about it but couldn't get much out. The only things Sherlock could make out were 'army' and 'explosion'. She was trying her hardest to fight off tears but some still rolled onto her cheeks. Sherlock knew that John got these nightmares too, sometimes when he was staying over, Sherlock could hear him mumbling and would have to go upstairs to wake him. He now gripped Jemima tightly, reassuring her.

"This isn't Afghanistan." He told her. "You're not going to be hurt here, you're fine I promise."

She kept sobbing into his arms but she was already starting to calm down.

"I've got you, you're ok, I've got you." He felt her heart beating frantically in her chest. The more he talked to her, the more her heartbeats matched his. She was just drifting off to sleep when Sherlock said something he'd never said to anybody before.

"Jemima Jones, I love you." He looked at her and saw that she was sleeping. She probably wouldn't ever know he'd said it. He kissed her forehead lightly and snuggled in to sleep again.

"I love you too, Sherlock Holmes." Came a small whisper. Sherlock smiled to himself and went back to sleep with Jemima in his arms.