The Case of the Season

Chapter Twenty-Four

Several days later, thanks to Robin's hard work, Sherlock's flat was like a home for the first time since he'd purchased it. She had cleaned and organized everything, bought several new pieces of furniture to complement what he already had, and stocked the kitchen.

It had only taken them those same several days to fall into a comfortable rhythm. He was currently at his desk, which was now in the main space of the flat. She had one right next to it. The room that had formerly been his office was now set up for the children they would soon have.

She was in the kitchen. The flat was wonderfully warm, and filled with the smells of bacon, baking bread, and plum pie.

And, of course, now that they were living alone together, he could have her whenever he wanted. The fainting couch he'd previously mostly used for sleeping when he never made it to his own bed had become a favorite spot of his to pin her on, sometimes for only a few moments, and sometimes for much longer.

When she emerged and informed him that food would be ready in roughly thirty minutes, he pounced. She'd taken to wearing loose gowns when they didn't have company, and it took basically no effort at all to tug the fabric down to expose her breasts.

"I'll certainly be with child before the end of the season if you keep doing this," she murmured.

Truthfully, they both hoped that she already was, but it was far too early to tell.

"Good," he murmured back, dragging her skirt up as she undid his breeches, then slid her hands around to squeeze his backside.

His hips worked feverishly as he drove into her, his curls falling over his forehead and brushing against her skin as they kissed.

This time, it didn't last long, but it was still incredibly satisfying.

She giggled and kissed his cheek before sneaking out from underneath him to head back to the kitchen. "You're getting quite good at that," she observed.

"Mm," he rumbled, redoing his breeches and reclining comfortably. "I aim to please."

"And you do, every time," she assured him.

After they ate, he returned to catching up on his correspondence while she worked on her next novel.

When he dropped a kiss on her shoulder and asked how it was going, she turned and kissed him. "I'm still not used to this part," she admitted. "Being able to work openly and talking to someone about it."

"You will be soon enough, Robin."

She nodded. "Yes, I will, Sherlock."

She kissed him again and began to show him everything she had written so far.

After reading everything Robin had written so far, Sherlock paid a visit to the docks and found Poseidon's Wrath. He and Robin had assumed, of course, that Miss Beverley had not used her real name when planning her escape, and they had guessed correctly. Sherlock bribed the captain so he could look at the list of passengers, however, and when he found the name of a character from Robin's most recent book, he knew exactly who he was looking for.

Another bribe for the captain ensured that he would delay the ship's departure and send for the detective when Miss Beverley arrived. Of course, he and Robin were hoping to find her before that, but it was prudent to be cautious.

After his bribes, they began spending their days running errands and exploring London to look for Miss Beverley. There were many lodging houses she could be staying at, as well as hotels. Robin was astonished by everything she was seeing, and it quickly became one of Sherlock's favorite pastimes to see the thrilled look on her face when she was experiencing something new.