The room was dimly lit and whatever light existed seemed to undulate with the music that was thumping through her limbs. Kairi felt light as air at the moment, willowy in fact, as she walked across the crowded room filled to the brim with gyrating, faceless bodies. It was that way in a dance club.
As she glided her way through the crowd, she would brush up against other couples, moving in perfect sync, their bodies almost melded together. They carried her through the darkness, as if they knew where she was heading, knew where she needed to be, more so than she did. It was obvious of course. Her loneliness, her need, it was practically oozing out her pores. It felt good to be surrounded by such heat, such passion. She hadn't felt it in a long time – if ever – that true zen of humanity, being lost in pleasure.
She felt herself swallow heavily as she escaped the throng of dancers and came out on the other side of the room. She glanced around, more faceless people she did not recognize, almost all of them had that sleepy look on their faces, full of desire. She felt her abdomen tremble with such desperation. It was pathetic, but so was loneliness.
She turned and turned, the music spinning her faster and faster until suddenly she was frozen. For a moment, she didn't know why, until she felt the lightest of touches grace her hips. The dress she was wearing was dark and thin, falling across her body effortlessly, and feeling like pure sin against her skin. The fingertips now digging into her sides felt cool and dangerously strange as they fanned out, splaying across the outside of her upper thigh and dared so close to the short hem of her dress. She felt herself spin slowly, into the arms, into the heat of the hands dancing across her waist, and their bodies seemed to meld together like the ones on the dance floor. Their movement was minute, but pregnant with feeling and she closed her eyes to lose herself in the sensation. These feelings, this heat, this is what she imagined taking ecstasy would be like.
She was chest to chest with the man touching her. Judging by the build, the arms pulling her close and the smell - an all too familiar smell. She felt his hand snake up her side, his fingertips brushing areas untouched for years, scooping up her neck and jaw and forcing her lips into his.
His mouth was hot, sweet, tasting of cigarettes, the finest of whiskey, and the faintest hint of peppermint. His lips were soft against hers, familiar in a way, comfortable. She couldn't help but moan, ever so gently, leaning her body into his and feeling his desire build to match hers. It must be what heaven is like.
They pulled back from each other, gasping for air, her face held firmly in his long slender hands, his fingertips pressing against her temples and his thumb running across her bottom lip. Her lips were inflamed, pulsating from the ferocity of such a kiss. She felt burned and soothed all at the same time. She opened her eyes, sleepily, slowly and met his, bright, full of icy flames. He was breathing heavily, staring into her eyes, at her mouth. One hand cradled her face, the other snaked down her side, his touch leaving flames in its wake, fluttering down to the hem of her skirt, lifting it slowly to let his skin touch hers.
Kairi gasped, waking from her almost wet dream and gripping at the covers enveloping her body bathed in a cool sweat. She was breathing quickly, her heart was racing and she gulped heavily, glancing to her side and she immediately calmed.
Sherlock was still fast asleep, his pale lips, almost too familiar to her now, open and relaxed. His entire face was relaxed, which was a surprise. Kairi had assumed that Sherlock would sleep rigidly, almost rigor-like and most likely in a coffin. Instead, she was lying, encompassed in the warm, soft comforts of his bed. Yet after this dream that had left her quaking, she couldn't help but smile at the sight. Sherlock fast asleep, relaxed, pleased, with Appa's giant head comfortably situated on the center of Sherlock's chest. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, but it was no use, she let out the lightest of titters and Appa opened his eyes, keeping his head where it was comfortable and opened his mouth into that general doggy smile.
After a moment and another stifled giggle from Kairi, Sherlock's eyes blinked open slowly, sated with sleep, moaning slightly. His arm reached up in a reflexive movement and laid his hand gently and almost lovingly atop Appa's ecstatic head, his tail thumped the bed. That's when things got heated.
Sherlock's eyes shot open at the texture beneath his fingertips, the soft fur of Appa's crown seemed to lull him into a false sense of security, even for a nanosecond.
"If you want me to leave, give you guys some privacy..." Kairi said quietly, trying to hide her smile and quiet her laughter.
In the next nanosecond Sherlock shot from the bed, shrieking in the most manliest of ways, and jolting his body around like Kairi had done when she dreamt of spiders covering her. He froze and glared at the two of them, Kairi still completely covered, biting her lips shut like a child caught in a hilarious ruse and Appa, thumping his tail at Sherlock, knowing their friendship was instantly solidified.
"You!" He growled at Kairi, "You engineered this! You planned this all along!" He growled, his eyes practically frantic, wide and crazy, "You seduced me into this situation and made a fool of me!"
Now Kairi was confused, "What?" The heat of her dream hadn't completely dissipated and her eyes roved quickly over Sherlock's shirtless upper half, down to the trim hips, barely holding up his pajama pants. Her eyes widened when she noticed a very common bulge below his waist – well, common for any other man. "Sherlock, Appa wasn't hurting anyone. He just likes to snuggle. As for your," She swallowed, "problem, its very common in males. You don't have to lose your shit."
He glared at her and growled at her, his voice pure venom and hatred, "I am not a common man!" He turned violently out of the room and slammed the door, making Kairi and Appa flinch.
Kairi sat up in bed, not completely understanding what had just transpired, between her dream, Sherlock cuddling with Appa, and Sherlock's common male indiscretion, she was absolutely blank. She heard John mutter something slight, Sherlock growl some indistinguishable response, the woosh of the wool jacket and pounding feet on the stairs, followed by another slamming door.
Kairi glanced at Appa, "The fuck?" She jumped out of bed and ran to the front room where John was standing, looking like he'd been slapped with a fish.
"Oh, jeez," John started, glancing at Kairi in a shirt and underwear and averted his eyes.
"Oh John, you fished me out of the shower, don't pretend to be modest now!" She muttered with distaste, staring at the open door frame. "I need to move out."
"What?" John looked at her again, honestly confused, "What the bloody hell just happened there? He was half naked! Ran out with only his coat, not even shoes! And here you are, in your knickers -," John froze, his eyes suddenly coming to a realization that made Kairi blush wildly.
Everyone was talking at once.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Kairi started, putting up her hands in defense.
"Its none of my business what two consenting adults choose to do, but if I may, I say its about bloody time-,"
"John I swear! Nothing happened! We slept together, but we didn't sleep together. I just had a weird dream and Sherlock and Appa were cuddling and evidently Sherlock liked it-,"
They both paused and said in unison, "What?"
Then they started laughing.
It died down quickly when John had a very somber, sad look in his eyes, "Kairi, you best get ready. Lestrade needs us down at the station."
Kairi's smile fell. She knew that look on John's face, she'd seen it a hundred times before, something was happening, "What's wrong?"
John pushed something down emotionally, "Please, just get ready. Sherlock didn't grab his phone, so he'll come back soon enough and meet us at the station. I'll wait."
Kairi nodded, numbness spilling into her veins as she went to her shared room, with Appa at her heels. She gathered up her clothing and went into the bathroom to shower. It took forever, the water running down her skin, the heat of the water at an almost blinding temperature that she adored. She washed her hair, her face, and her body on auto pilot. Steam was filling up the room and making Appa pant. That's when she decided she was done – despite his thick coat of fur, the dog followed her everywhere since they were reunited, not that she minded really. She needed him around more than ever.
She toweled off and cracked the bathroom door to let all the steam escape, Appa seemed to sigh in relief. She took her time, getting her hair ready, she used a delicate hand to put on her best face of makeup, waterproof and smooth, angular but simple, with lips the color of blood. She sighed, looking into her rather superfluous make up bag, would it kill her to purchase some pink lipstick every once and a while?
Her face was complete. She looked normal – well, normal for her. Her hair was in loose dry waves, growing quickly, and almost touching the tops of her breasts, adorned with a cozy knit cap. Her clothes all in place, a simple black knitted dress with a sloping neckline, showing off her delicate collarbone, barely contrasting grey hounds tooth wool tights disappearing into her favorite, and almost signature, clunky boots. She looked put together. That was the point.
She walked out of the bathroom and smiled as John stood. Good ol'John, always the gentlemen, even when he was getting it regularly. Maybe that was why Sherlock was so surly. Kairi shook her head to dispel the thoughts. "Why does Lestrade need me?" She was bunched with nerves.
"What?" John muttered, "You're sma-,"
"Don't flatter. Why me?" She stared him down.
John visibly shifted with discomfort, "He didn't tell me. He just said you, me and Sherlock. I'm sure Sherlock will be on his way soon."
Kairi relaxed a bit, maybe Lestrade was just trying to include her. Maybe it was a hint at her attacker. She pulled herself together and smiled at John as bright as she could, "All right, lets go." He nodded to her as she slid on her jacket, and pulled out something brightly colored in blue and Appa's lead. She clipped the lead to his collar and had him step into some sort of vest for dogs. John was looking curious. "Its a service vest John. Appa doesn't get nearly as many accusations and horrid looks when he's wearing his volunteer vest. Its sort of a joke to me," She chuckled, "One of my favorite authors had his main heroine break into people's buildings, discredit their security teams, by dressing up as a service man or handy man. No one notices the man in uniform."
John nodded. That was somewhat true. "Right, lets go."
Kairi was sitting at Lestrade's desk. A flurry of uniformed and plain clothed detectives were ushering in and out. She and John weren't speaking since there was still tension from the whole Sherlock running out half naked on them. She was flustered, to say the least. The entire morning was glorious and awful and terrifying all at once. The dream she had made her shift in an uncomfortable fashion she was barely familiar with. It had to be her loneliness, her desperation, seeing Sherlock shirtless, the first male in her presence who was remotely attractive driving her mad.
She took this moment to glance up at Lestrade, bravado, strength, that gorgeous silvery hair. Maybe she'd ask him out for a drink – he'd promised her one not long ago, maybe it was time to take him up on his offer. Not that he had a lack of prospects, judging by numerous doe eyed officers who flounced by his office – no, no Kairi was being testy. This entire situation made her feel on edge. She shouldn't judge another female, simply because she was feeling bitchy.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. In this instance he entered Lestrade's office as if it were his own. Occupying a corner, connected to a window which he stared out of, broodingly.
Though this time he felt right enough to put on some clothes. The same wool coat, the perfectly tailored suit covering a deep purple shirt that seemed to bring out his eyes and make his hair shine like an oil slick after a soft rain. Kairi glanced back at Lestrade, he didn't have the elegance that Sherlock did, that refined grace that exuded from him and made him fascinating, but Lestrade did have something that Sherlock didn't: a soul. His eyes were so full of emotion, of power. Lestrade was a tiger, tamed and strong, lithe and brilliant in his own way. Granted he asked Sherlock for help, but the impossible cases he must come across, the sadistic, absolute evil could only be solved by one man. The man in the purple shirt.
A blush rose on her cheeks when Lestrade glanced back at her, a soft smile on his face and kind eyes – not the type of eyes you'd expect from most cops. He was a good cop, one of the amazing few that really made the difference between quality police work and corruption. He was good stock and it'd be silly for Kairi to ignore it because of a ignorant hateful relationship that made her blood broil.
His back was still to her and it made her even more upset.
"Why am I here?" Kairi accidentally shouted and everyone in the room froze. Sherlock didn't budge, but he hadn't since he'd arrived. She cleared her throat, "Sorry," She lowered her voice, "Honestly, why?"
Lestrade cleared his throat as well and glanced to the few members of his squad that wouldn't be needed for this conversation and nodded for them to leave. The room began to clear and Kairi could feel herself vibrate with discomfort. She glanced up and saw the fraction of a second it took for Sherlock to cease looking at her over his shoulder and stare back out the window.
"There's a new case that has been brought to my attention. This was a murder of an elderly woman in the states." Lestrade paused when Kairi looked up at him again, her eyes curious.
She couldn't help but glance in Sherlock's direction, he was staring at Lestrade with curiosity as well.
"In the states? How did it get back to you?" Sherlock deigned to speak.
"The manner in which it was committed, a rather brutal murder. An elderly woman, Kimberly 'KiKi' Mewes was stabbed to death, 19 times in the chest, with a steak knife." Lestrade began and Kairi felt herself shudder slightly.
"Suspects?" John asked, and Sherlock scoffed.
"Yes – well, we know who did it." Lestrade said and opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock interrupted.
"Then why am I here?" He said distastefully and stared back out the window.
Kairi noticed how uncomfortable Lestrade looked, something must be incredibly troubling for him to be this flustered. "Shut up Sherlock." She rasped at him. He took a moment to looked taken back by her tone.
"The woman had a hourglass carved into her abdomen. She was also African American." Lestrade paused at everyone's confused look, "And her husband had recently died."
John was silent, Kairi was silent, and Lestrade went to speak but yet again, Sherlock opened his mouth, "A black widow." He turned and stared at Kairi, smiling.
Kairi glared at Sherlock and glanced back at Lestrade, "What does this have to do with me?"
"Aside from the fact that you seemed to be breeding them recently?" Sherlock chuckled at his own joke, everyone else glared at him.
Kairi could barely look at him. The damn man was an infant. Wake up with damned morning wood and he accuses her of being a witch and magically seducing it out of him through Appa. He was the smartest imbecile she'd ever encountered. She could use a good punch to his face.
Lestrade looked horribly uncomfortable, "Kairi, the person who murdered Ms. Mewes was your mother."
Kairi went paler than any had seen her go. She seemed to slump in her chair, everything about her going slack, going numb. Her mouth dropped open and let out a shuddering breath. Color paled from her sight, everything went fuzzy in an instant.
John went to her side, to grasp her hand, Lestrade was around his desk so quickly you wouldn't think it possible, and Sherlock, Sherlock turned, staring at Kairi who was pale, empty, and shaking.
Her hand was held, a man was kneeling next to her whispering caring and reassuring things in her ear, but she looked at Sherlock, staring at him with wide open eyes that were reaching out to him like he were her only lifeline.
It took his breath away and made his heart ache.