A Case of Identity

BBC Sherlock

Rating: 18 (explicit femslash)

Summary: Anthea and Ella really shouldn't be so unprofessional.

Originally written for a Five Acts meme asking for quiet, voyeurism and semi-public sex.





This isn't just unprofessional, it's insane. And they are both normally very, very professional. But this Monday morning Anthea is skiving off a briefing at the MoD, and Ella is fingering a client in her consulting room. Well, it's Anthea pretending to be a client, but if they're discovered, that's not going to help.

Anthea has to leave in ten minutes and plans to claim she's late because she got stuck in a jam. When she purrs "stuck in a jam" at Ella, she manages to make it sound like the kinkiest thing ever.

"More," Anthea gasps now, her breasts wriggling under the fabric of her smart blouse.

"Someone will hear," Ella protests, looking up.

"Don't your clients ever start screaming?"

"Not normally 'Do that again'. You're so loud sometimes." Ella secretly loves her ability to shatter Anthea's cool facade. But it's too dangerous here.

"Well, if you don't want to be involved, you can just watch." Anthea's fingers reach down into herself. It's a beautiful sight, Ella thinks, but Anthea's soon complaining the angle's wrong. "And I need my hands free," she says, "to muffle the sounds."

But when Ella's renewed stroking gets her close, Anthea's hand instead hits a button on her Blackberry. And suddenly her lustful cries are hidden by a sound outside, as a car alarm blares.

BBC Sherlock

Rating: 15 (swearing, slash, femslash, het)

Spoilers: for Scandal in Belgravia.

For Bloom84's Laud Lestrade prompt: Choosing a P.E. teacher over Greg Lestrade? That's just utterly implausible. There must be some really complicated backstory to explain that fantasy plotline. Unless the P.E. teacher is Michael Fassbender--and then I still have my doubts. Please give me a fic that sorts this out.

Note: NFB (Normal For Bridgwater) is an abbreviation allegedly used by medical staff in Somerset for patients with non-specific mental confusion.

Betaed by the wonderful Fengirl88

BBC Sherlock

Spoilers: None

Rating 15 (alcoholism, pre-slash)

Summary: Harry has an unexpected meeting.

Betaed by the wonderful Blooms84.

Happy Christmas to fengirl88.

BBC Sherlock

Rating: 15 (femslash)

Prompt: Sally/Ella

Notes: Sequels to PC World and Straight, Scholar, Smooth

Calm

Ella was a careful woman, especially when her straight friends were concerned. There was a fine line between appreciation and causing alarm. Though less so with Sally Donovan. Sally was breathtakingly sexy sometimes, almost demanding that everyone in the room should desire her. Ella had grown used to letting her eyes linger unashamedly on Sally's breasts, or the strip of pale brown skin between crop top and jeans.

“What do lesbians do in bed?” Sally asked her out of the blue one day.

“Whatever they find erotic,” Ella replied calmly.

“Wanna show me?”

Sally was adventurous; it was doubtless the taboo-breaking that was driving her interest more than Ella. But she was also gorgeous.

“If you like,” she replied, and let her hand reach out to brush Sally’s cheek.

***

As she’d expected, Sally was impatient, almost aggressive in bed. Used to men with inadequate foreplay, Ella deduced. Let’s try and change the tempo a bit.

“Lie still,” she murmured, “I’ve been longing to get my hands on you.” Her skilful fingers started a slow, thorough exploration of Sally’s body, from the dense spring of her hair to her pale insteps. Only then did they reach into the warm heat inside Sally, slowly increase the intensity till she had her panting, desperate. Afterwards, Sally didn't speak, just lay there, gasping for breath.

Storm

Ella had dignity, that was the word, Sally decided. The calm, ageless beauty of a bronze statue. Not like her, always losing her rag, letting the bastards get to her. Ella had poise and Sally admired, envied that. But sometimes she found Ella’s self-control unnerving. Every action, every word carefully considered, as if she had forgotten the rawness, the passion that she must once have had.

Even in the bedroom, Ella found it hard to lose control: a slow simmer rather than boiling lust. But Sally was a detective: it wasn’t long before she found the parcel hidden away at the back of Ella’s wardrobe.

“You into handcuffs, then?” she asked, dragging them out.

“Not really,” Ella replied smoothly. “I bought them ages ago, but my partner then didn’t like the idea.”

“What you need a copper for,” Sally said smiling. “Teach you to use them properly.”

“I don’t need you to-,” Ella began, and Sally knew she was blushing now, even if she couldn’t see it.

“You didn’t return them or dump them.” Sally let her voice grow husky.  “You still wonder, even though it feels wrong. Maybe specially 'coz it feels wrong. Tonight, Ella, we’re gonna do dirty things together, all the things you've never dared to want. And I’m gonna make you come till I melt your bones."