The Unfinished Case// A Sherlock Story

XII

She woke up with a slight throbbing her head as she sits up on the mattress she was now lying upon. She scans her surrounding to see a makeshift bedroom of some sort. She looks down to see that someone had already patched her wound but she also realises that both her hands were chained down to the post of the bed.

The door slowly creaks upon and entering in was a slim figure in a hugging suit.

"Why, I didn't expect for you to have such kinks. Well, you did hook up with the demolition woman I suppose." She says with a wicked smirk appearing on her face. Sherlock mimic said smile and sat on the chair that rests beside the bed.

"You're not the only one who can patch up wounds," he says playfully as he leans back on his chair and observes the mysterious girl.

"I see you haven't taken my mask off," she responds quite surprised at Sherlock's act.

"Well, that's because I wanted to do it when you were awake," he says as he leans forward to take the mask off. His rough fingers dances along her smooth skin, sending electricity to both participants. They both try to ignore the electricity as Sherlock takes off the mask. What lies underneath the mask took Sherlock's breath away. He had never seen such beauty as he was never into the social construct of media's judgement. She isn't sexy in the mechanical, aerobic way society has come to associate with 'eroticism'. Instead, she expands the notion of her beauty in a different magnificent way. Her facial features were a lot softer than he thought. Her goddess-like face matching her high ranking personality. She wasn't the type of face that one might find in a magazine but a face that artists would surely muse over. Her face belonged in a beautiful painting or sculpture, yet if someone did attempt to frame her beauty, they will never be anywhere close to what Sherlock was seeing.

"Like what you see?" She asks sensually as her signature smirk replays on her lips. Sherlock leans back on his chair and continues observing her.

"Crimson-" he began

"Enough with the formality, call me by my real name." She says leaning forward towards Sherlock. Sherlock reciprocates her action so their breath was able to fan each other.

"And what might that be?" He asks looking into her vibrant blue eyes.

"Well...." She says slightly leaning closer to Sherlock before pulling away not giving Sherlock the satisfaction he craved. She rests her head on the headboard of the bed and gives Sherlock a crooked, innocent smile.

"That's something for you to figure out," she says staring into his eyes.

"How?" Sherlock asks, intrigued by the woman.

"Deduce me"