Sherlock

Note: I would suggest reading 'Downey' before reading 'Sherlock' for a better appreciation of this fiction. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

I am breathless, my heart hammering in my chest.

I have not seen him in over five months.

Since that night with him, I made up my mind not to think of him, to not grieve for his voice, the absence of his touch. It had been so lonely to go a day without sharing a joke with him or to listen to his ridiculous comments.

Or his laugh.

I had cried the longest missing his soft words, his gentle ways.

His tender whispers, the sweet way he touched my arm when he said something funny, all of it I missed so much.

But now, when he is seconds away from being right in front of me, I am without air, hyperventilating. My head is pounding, and my hands are clammy and sweating.

I thread my way through the maze of travel trailers, lost it seemed. I almost panic, feeling like I will never find my way. The lot where they are filming is huge, encompassing 3 city blocks. Equipment is everywhere: generators, support equipment, technical support vehicles. Huge cables snake the pavement, people are everywhere.

I am sure I'll be seen by someone who doesn't want me there.

Getting through security down at 23rd street was easy- I just showed my driver's license. I didn't need to say a darned thing, he had ensured that. The security officer assumed I was with the production team. 

I wasn't sure what to do if I were recognized by anyone else. I think I recognize a lot of people from the ranch in Malibu, but I think I am just nervous being here, and I am paranoid as hell.

I debated whether I would actually go through with it- buy the plane ticket, take the Friday off from work to fly out for some clandestine hook up in New York- to actually meet with him again. I felt I was not mentally healthy enough to experience another one night stand, but I just couldn't keep away from him- I hungered for him. I missed his words, his funny comments, his smile. I needed him near me...in me, true, but laughing with me, hugging me, talking with me. I wanted to hear him brag about himself, share a filthy, dirty joke with him, to touch his face again when he cried his soulful tears.

 I had it bad. And, miserable and depressed since being away from him, I knew it. I was smitten with him. He had become my addiction. And I felt I was on a path to psychological self-destruction.

I just knew I couldn't wait any longer. I couldn't resist his requests, his sad drivel, his begging me to meet him here- anywhere.

After his message on my jeep, I thought long and hard about reopening this short, albeit mind altering, chapter of my life. I had changed drastically because of our short time together. I vowed to no longer be fearful, and I decided to slowly change my life for the better, to include things that brought joy into my life.

I did feel regret in our affair. I had considered how damaging it was for me to sleep with a married man, and how it was destined to go nowhere but to therapy, for me.

I felt ashamed to be playing this part in his probable relationship troubles. I remember how they interacted...not the happy couple I expected.

All along, I kept thinking of Her. She was on my mind all summer. I wondered if she knew what he and I had done. I wondered: if she knew, did she think of me each time she fed Zachary? If so, did this cause her pain? If all I suspected were true, I wouldn't be able to continue to breastfeed him, if I were in her shoes. It would be too painful to keep facing that terrible turn of events. I suspected he may have been prowling around on her, but it is in the Woman's Code that no woman wants to be the 'other woman'.