Deduce Me

Twenty: A Case and Something Extra...

Sherlock

I woke up in the hospital for the second time in one day. That must be a record, being admitted within two hours of leaving. Either way, this awakening was much more painful than the first time.

My head was pounding, and my ribs were aching. My stomach felt sick, and the room was spinning, but I tried to focus on John standing beside me.

"Ugghhh, ooh... What happened?"

"The doctor says you overworked yourself," John explained with a grimace. "He said that all the running and activities were too much for your body to handle after just waking up from a coma."

"My head hurts...." I whined. Luckily, the room had quit spinning.

John pushed the button for the nurse. "Yeah, he said to expect that."

"Yes?" A voice squawked from the intercom.

"Yeah, he's awake now," John informed her.

"I'll send a doctor right in," she promised before clicking off.

A few minutes later, a doctor walked in carrying a clipboard. Two kids, divorced, new girlfriend. "Alright, Mr. Holmes, how's the head?"

"Ughh, aching..."

He chuckled a little. "I figured that would happen. And your ribs?"

"Still broken," I snapped out.

"Alright, alright, no need to get snippy. Any nausea, dizziness, sensitivity to light?"

"Not any more. Will I have to stay the night?"

He checked his clipboard. "Oh, I don't think so. From the looks of it, you're just very shaken up. We will let you go home, as long as you promise no more running, okay? Pain is your body's way off telling you to stop, so listen to it. Take this for the headache," he handed over a bottle of the over-the-counter pain relievers, "and get plenty of rest. As for the ribs... Don't wrap them up, and try to stretch your chest and lungs frequently to avoid pneumonia. Any questions?"

"No," I answered before getting up. My head throbbed and my side ached with every breath. Oh, this was going to be a long night.

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**Fast forward to two weeks later. Let's assume nothing of consequence has happened**

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John

November 21

The Three Students

A teacher, Mr. Soames, brought us an interesting case the other day. It seems Sherlock has aquired somewhat of a reputation for crime solving; suddenly, people keep coming with their problems and mysteries for him to solve.

Mr. Soames had been reviewing an exam, when he left the room, only to return to find that his PA had left the door unlocked, allowing for anyone to walk in. It was clear that a student had entered and copy the test. Mr. Soames brought the problem immediately to us, and Sherlock deduced which of the three students scheduled to take the test had committed the crime by

"What are you doing?" Sherlock interrupted me. He was wearing goggles and carrying an eyeball. I don't even want to know where he got it, or what he's doing with it.

"Err... Blogging." I answered, my fingers freezing on the keyboard.

He leaned over my shoulder. "'The Three Students.' Which three?"

"The ones you just solved a case about...?" It was litterally 20 minutes ago.

"Hmm... Oh, the cheater. Not very much worth my time, then or now. Remind me again, where is our fire extinguisher?"

My eyes widened. "We don't have one... What have you set on fire?!" I scanned the room frantically.

"Nothing, John!" He reassured me, waving the eyeball around. Then, under his breath, "yet."

"Sherlock Holmes, I swear to God, if you set this dorm on fire, I'll..."

"You'll what?" He teased, smiling. He knew my threat was empty, no matter how angry I acted.

I just sighed as I returned to my blog, keeping a watchful eye on him as he resumed his experiment.

»»»»

That night, DI Lestrade called and asked Sherlock to look into a case in London. Already, Sherlock could solve crimes quicker and more efficiently than Scotland Yard, so it was common for Lestrade to call Sherlock on the weekends, when we were available to leave campus.

Sherlock, ever the show off, solved the entire case in about an hour, so I suggested we grab some take away and have a night in. Of course, he wasn't hungry, but I ordered some food for myself and we took a cab back to Baker Street.

Long after the sun had set, and my dinner had been finished, Sherlock and I were laying on his bed, tangled up in the blankets. And yes, I just could not resist the temptation to press my lips against his. He parted his lips for me, and I kissed him deeply and with more passion.

Suddenly he swung his legs over me, so that he was straddling me, still kissing. I had to pull away for air, but Sherlock's lips never left my skin. He kissed my cheek, teeth skimming over my earlobe- making me shudder- lips trailing down my throat, my collarbone, as he tugged at the hem of my jumper.

"Sh- Sherlock... I've never, ah... Done anything like this."

His pupils were so wide that they nearly eclipsed his irises as he lifted his face to look at me. His voice was husky with what I could only describe as lust. "Neither have I... Do you want to stop?"

"Oh, God, no, keep going..." We rolled until I was hovering above him, his legs still wrapped around my waist. We both smiled at each other as I leaned down, fingers working quickly to unbutton his shirt as our lips moved in sync...

(A/N:

Aaaaand... That's it. That's as far as I'll go with writing smut. I'm sure you all can guess what happens next. You don't need me to tell you.

Oh, by the way, the case John was writing earlier is a real case from the *original* Holmes stories. It wasn't very interesting, but I thought it fit in with the whole teenlock thing.

On an additional note: HELP!! I have major writer's block... Any ideas, anyone??

Tally-ho, my darlings.
(Is that a thing? Tally-ho? I'm making it a thing.))