Guns, Games, and Mutual Appreciation ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book I}

Chapter 6- 8:37 PM

Millie's POV

------------------

I close the door behind me after John lets me in at 8:36PM. 

"Tea, Millie?" asks John from the kitchen. This is part of his routine now. He asks if I want a beverage, I decline. Today, I'm feeling reckless, so I visibly shock him by replying with a: "That would be great, John."

"Right... I'll er... bring it up in a sec then.." he says.

I smile as I walk up the stairs, and open his door. I don't knock. Too conservative.

He's standing in the middle of the room, looking at his watch. This strikes me as odd, and immediately I begin to assess the situation.

"Millie, stand over there," he says.

I look at him scathingly, but oblige, not taking my eyes of him as I walk over to the mantlepiece. The fire's lit too. This is new. In the time it takes for my eyes to scan and acknowledge the lit fire, he's gone. I hear footsteps, and I know he's behind me. Close behind me. I smile. I know what he's doing.

He speaks very softly, very differently to his over-excited shout, or bored drawl. 

"You're on time, Millie."

"I know."

He laughs, again softly.

"Millie?"

I turn around slowly. He was closer than I thought. He then surprises me, by leaning forward until his head is just above mine.

I can tell he's smiling. He then catches me off guard, again, and touches his fingers very lightly to my waist. I raise an eyebrow.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Sherlock Holmes?" I ask.

"Seducing? No. Testing? Quite possibly."

"It's not working."

I'm smiling because I've seen through it. He's tested my analytical skills. He's tested my logic, my reason, my ability to comprehend a situation. Now he's testing something else. Physical interaction. I'll give him credit, he's better at acting than I thought someone of his scientific calibre could be. But it doesn't phase me. He's just playing a game.

And I can play too.

I make him start by moving closer to him, until there is no space between us, and I reach up to rest my hand on his cheek. 

"I've worked it out, Sherlock," I say.

"I know."

But he doesn't let go. And then I realise. The unnecessary closeness; it's the best way to subtly monitor my heart rate. And my hand against his cheek. I can keep his pulse in check too.  It's a standoff. Mind power is utterly irrelevant; it's whose body is going to give in first.

I'm in control. 

He shifts against me, agitated, I'm showing no signs of physical fluctuation, and I know it.

I'm winning.

"Sorry Millie, the teabag split, I know it's not much but- oh..." 

---------------

John's POV

--------------

I can't believe it.

I cannot believe what I'm seeing. 

"Er... sorry for interrupting. I'll be going, then-"

"No need," says Sherlock, and he moves away, disinterested once more.

Millie laughs, unaffected. She shakes her head at my bewilderment, slings on her jacket and leaves the building, without saying goodbye.

"Sherlock, you've got some explaining to do."

"Nothing to explain. I was testing her, John. It's a game. An experiment... I'm putting together an accurate representation of her mental capacities," he says, like it's absolutely nothing.

"No. That's wrong, Sherlock. You don't...you don't do that, to someone."

"How is it wrong? I told you. I've been putting her through tests John. I'm analysing how she reacts to physical interaction. And I couldn't imagine you being a willing candidate for my experiment, so I did it myself. She scored very highly. Barely reacted at all," he says, running his hand through is hair and peering at himself in the mirror.

"Sherlock, listen to me. What you were doing- that's not right. I mean, sure, do all your uber-detective analysis, but what you were doing tonight? That's too far. Ever considered that she might develop feelings towards you if you continue doing that kind of thing?" 

"John, I know what I'm doing."

"I don't-"

"Don't speak. I need to think."

"But-"

He presses his fingers to his temples, and turns away, leaving me standing with the rapidly cooling mug of tea still in my hand, at a loss as to what to say.

-----------------