The Decoy Wife - Part 3
Dec. 11th, 2016 09:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darnedchildSummary: Sherlock needs a decoy wife for a case; and Molly is more willing to help than she wants to admit. It might have something to do with his chosen disguise.
Rating: M
A/N - I don't even know.
The Decoy Wife
Part Three
Her earlier suspicion that Sherlock might have been . . . relieving his tension in the bathroom seemed to be wrong as he exited the room looking just as tightly strung as when he’d gone in. His hair was damp and smoothed back from his face. She wanted to ask what he’d been doing in there, but his impatient expression made her hold her tongue.
He gestured for her to take her turn in the bathroom. As she passed him, Molly cast a discrete glance toward his groin before he finished shrugging into one of the plush bathrobes that had been left for them. She refused to admit she was a tiny bit disappointed to find that he was no longer aroused.
Molly’s swimsuit was a fairly modest one-piece. It was several years old, but still in good shape as she rarely had a reason to drag it out of storage. Still, she couldn’t help wishing for just a moment that she’d splurged for something new and a tiny bit racy as she finished tugging everything into place.
Sherlock jumped up off the bed as soon as she re-joined him. She adjusted her bathrobe—the twin to his—then followed him out into the hallway. He took her hand as they walked; and Molly let herself enjoy the contact even though she knew it was only a ruse in case one of the other couples or someone from the staff saw them.
“Isn’t it going to be a little chilly splashing about in a pool this time of year?” she asked.
“The Villa sports a heated pool and a jacuzzi, both located in the recently renovated conservatory,” Sherlock recited the information in a smooth impersonation of Simon’s smarmy voice.
The conservatory was toasty warm (and dreadfully humid). Molly thought it was a nice enough space; although it seemed like most of those ‘recent renovations’ must have been purely cosmetic because even her untrained eye was able to pick out several bits of damp. Taking a closer look, she noted how some of the windows seemed to line up just shy of perfectly square, as if the foundation of the room had shifted a bit.
Even as Molly shrugged out of her robe and placed it on a poolside chair, Sherlock huffed in annoyance. “There’s no one here.”
“Were you expecting someone?”
“I overheard two of the other couples discussing the pool tonight.” He pulled his robe off and stalked to the edge of the pool. “Being seen out here ‘enjoying’ ourselves would have lent credibility to our claims of getting lost should we run into a member of the staff later.”
“We’re going to get lost?” Molly dipped her foot into the water and decided it was warm enough, assuming they were actually planning to get in. Just because they were at the pool didn’t mean Sherlock was going to let her swim.
“Unless we’re particularly lucky and remain unspotted whilst I have a look around, yes.” He cast another impatient look toward the conservatory door.
“Best to work with what we have then,” he muttered, almost to himself. Before she could ask what he meant, Sherlock launched himself into the deep end of the pool. He surfaced and pushed his hair back from his face in a move that drew her gaze to the way water ran down his arms and chest, then frowned at her. “Why aren’t you in the water?”
“I wasn’t sure we were staying?” She still wasn’t, to be honest.
He motioned for her to get in the pool. “I estimate we’ll need to waste another ten to fifteen minutes out here before it would be credible that we came out to swim after the session, got overwhelmed with libidinous intentions and decided to return to our room, only to get too distracted snogging to pay attention to where we were going.”
Molly blinked. Then blinked again as she processed his rapid-fire words. “If we get caught, you mean. The-the snogging is only if we get caught. Right?”
“Obviously.” Sherlock’s brow furrowed as he looked up at her. “Did-“ He broke off to clear his throat as Molly lowered herself to the edge of the pool and then slid in. “Did you want to kiss me?”
She eased through the water, cautiously approaching him as if she were sure he would bolt if she moved too fast. He watched her, remaining unnaturally still as she stopped just out of hands reach. “I think you know the answer to that. You’ve always known.” Whether he felt like acknowledging it was another matter entirely.
Before this weekend, she would have assumed the answer was always going to be no, but now . . .
Now he looked so unsure of himself. Of them. “What do you want me to do, Sherlock?”
His bark of self-mocking laughter startled her. “Now that is a loaded question.”
They stood there for a long moment, silently watching each other. Slowly Sherlock raised his hand and reached for her. His fingers barely brushed against her cheek before the door to the conservatory burst open.
Another couple laughed as they came into the room. They waved hello at Sherlock and Molly, then kicked off their shoes and dropped their robes on the tile next to the jacuzzi.
By the time Molly looked back to Sherlock, he was swimming away from her; which was hardly a surprise considering the moment they’d just shared. She bit her lower lip and debated what she should do for a second, then made up her mind. He’d said he wanted someone to witness them ‘enjoying’ themselves, so she was going to do just that. Enjoy herself. One way or another.
She waited for him to finish another lap in the small pool, then stepped into his path. He pulled up short of swimming into her. The moment he stood, she splashed water in his face and then jumped as far away as she could, laughing the entire time.
He stared after her for a moment, then lunged. She went under when he managed to get a hold of her ankle, but she’d been expecting it and was already holding her breath. Molly twisted and turned, freeing her ankle and somehow managing to come up close enough to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Sherlock lowered his head just enough to press a chaste kiss against her lips, and then his hands were under her arms and she was flying backward into the water once more with a shriek.
Every time he managed to catch her, he’d kiss her again. Some of the kisses were as chaste as the first, some of them . . . weren’t.
Molly was so distracted by her tussle with Sherlock that she didn’t notice what the other couple were up to for several minutes. Sherlock had cornered her with her back against the pool wall, the water deep enough that she had to hold on to his arm to keep her head above it. Over his shoulder she could just see the jacuzzi and the couple practically devouring each other inside it. Sherlock noticed her wide-eyed expression and turned to look.
The woman moaned as the man’s hand disappeared from view. She threw back her head and very enthusiastically told her husband that he was in ‘just the right spot’.
Molly fought not to giggle at Sherlock’s exaggerated grimace. He nudged her toward the pool ladder and helped her up with a gentle shove on her bum.
She lost the fight as they hurriedly dried off with some towels that had been left near the door and the noises from the jacuzzi reached porn star levels of ridiculousness. She was still quietly laughing as Sherlock draped her robe over her shoulders and dragged her back into the Villa proper.
“Can you believe them?” Molly asked, equal parts scandalized and embarrassed (for herself and for the other couple). “It’s almost as if they wanted an audience.”
“They did.” Sherlock stopped at an intersection where the hall split in three directions. “It actually works well for us. They saw us in the pool, which is exactly what I was hoping for; and their lewd behaviour gave us an excuse to leave rather quickly. It’s early enough in the evening that I’m hoping most of the staff will still be busy. This way.” He took her hand and pulled her to the right.
They crept down a short hall until it dead-ended at a single door. Sherlock eased it open, peeked around, then gestured for her to follow him through. On the other side was another corridor, but this one wasn’t nearly as bright as the others they’d passed through since arriving at the Villa. There were no antique tables with large flower arrangements, no lavish wallpaper and wainscoting. Just a long hall lined with several doors and another tee at the end.
“Staff quarters. There should be more around the corner.” He softly knocked on the closest door, then tried the knob when no one answered. Before he ducked inside, he told her to signal if anyone was coming.
Molly tried to keep her attention on both ends of the hall as Sherlock travelled from door to door. All but one of the doors lead to a room that was barely half the size of the one she and Sherlock were staying in. The odd door at the end of the corridor (the only one on that side of the hall) lead outside, opening to the grounds behind the Villa. She could just see a large utility building near the treeline when Sherlock stepped back to let her take a quick look.
She kept anxiously shifting her weight from foot to foot, nerves and her still wet hair and swimsuit made her shiver. This was much more intense than just sitting in the car keeping watch during the Sandusky case. A dozen scenarios of how they would be discovered ran through her mind, each one progressively worse. Yet, somehow, they managed to turn the corner and finish looking through the last of the rooms without being interrupted.
He began to head back toward the main part of the house with Molly at his heels. “Did you find anything,” she asked in a whisper.
He paused and turned to face her. “There is an unoccupied room; bed stripped, dresser empty. Whomever cleared the room wasn’t particularly careful. Or they were in a hurry.” He held up a small photo of a couple holding hands and a pair of children grinning beside them. “Found this stuck in the back of the nightstand drawer.”
Molly moved closer to examine it, and then realized she had no real clue what Anna actually looked like. “Is that hers?”
“Most likely. I see a family resemblance with her brother in the man’s face, probably their father.” He tucked the photo into the pocket of his bathrobe. “If she left, I want to know where she went. And, more importantly, what has kept her from contacting her brother.”
“Do you-“
Suddenly Sherlock grabbed her hand and used it to pull her against his chest. Before she could ask what he was doing, he lowered his head to hers. His lips pressed hard against her own as he backed her against the wall. Sherlock took advantage of her surprised gasp to slip his tongue into her mouth, and Molly’s thoughts short circuited.
All she knew was the taste of him on her lips, the slide of his tongue against hers, the press of his warm body against her chilled skin. Her nipples pebbled against the still damp swimsuit. Molly reached up to grip his shoulders, trying to pull him down or her up; whichever direction that meant she could keep in contact with his mouth. He groaned when she nipped at his lower lip. Sherlock’s hands dropped to her hips, then lower to her bum; his fingers dug into the flesh of her arse as he ground his growing arousal against her stomach.
Molly barely heard the discrete cough coming from someone just down the hall. Even as she pushed against Sherlock’s shoulders, she was unable to keep from stealing one last kiss as he lifted his head. He looked as dazed as she felt as he turned toward their retreat host.
Simon flashed his toothy smile, although there seemed to be an annoyed edge to it. “Scott, Molly. I’m afraid you’ve wandered a bit off track from the guest areas of the Villa. Is there something I can help you find?”
Molly had to look away from him, and that’s when she noticed the pair of young men in Happy Hearts uniforms at the other end of the hall. She had no idea how long they’d been standing there—or how much they’d witnessed—but neither one of them bothered to hide their smirks at the way Sherlock still had her pinned to the wall.
She pushed on his shoulders again and he finally stepped back, holding his hand out to her when she felt a little unsteady.
“Actually, Simon,” Sherlock began. “We worked up an appetite in the pool and were hoping to find the kitchen to ask for a snack and something cool to drink.”
Molly absolutely refused to turn around at the sound of one of the men behind them choking back a snort. There was absolutely no reason for her to be embarrassed, she hadn’t really been making out with Sherlock. It was just for the case.
And she was obviously deranged if she really believed any of that.
Simon’s insincere smile turned into a knowing leer and Molly couldn’t help feel a tiny bit dirty just for being in the same room. “I’ll have someone bring a tray up to your room.” He snapped his hand toward one of the men at the end of the hall. “Robert, please show our guests the way. We wouldn’t want them to get lost again.”
Part 1 / Part 4
Rating: M
A/N - I don't even know.
The Decoy Wife
Part Three
Her earlier suspicion that Sherlock might have been . . . relieving his tension in the bathroom seemed to be wrong as he exited the room looking just as tightly strung as when he’d gone in. His hair was damp and smoothed back from his face. She wanted to ask what he’d been doing in there, but his impatient expression made her hold her tongue.
He gestured for her to take her turn in the bathroom. As she passed him, Molly cast a discrete glance toward his groin before he finished shrugging into one of the plush bathrobes that had been left for them. She refused to admit she was a tiny bit disappointed to find that he was no longer aroused.
Molly’s swimsuit was a fairly modest one-piece. It was several years old, but still in good shape as she rarely had a reason to drag it out of storage. Still, she couldn’t help wishing for just a moment that she’d splurged for something new and a tiny bit racy as she finished tugging everything into place.
Sherlock jumped up off the bed as soon as she re-joined him. She adjusted her bathrobe—the twin to his—then followed him out into the hallway. He took her hand as they walked; and Molly let herself enjoy the contact even though she knew it was only a ruse in case one of the other couples or someone from the staff saw them.
“Isn’t it going to be a little chilly splashing about in a pool this time of year?” she asked.
“The Villa sports a heated pool and a jacuzzi, both located in the recently renovated conservatory,” Sherlock recited the information in a smooth impersonation of Simon’s smarmy voice.
The conservatory was toasty warm (and dreadfully humid). Molly thought it was a nice enough space; although it seemed like most of those ‘recent renovations’ must have been purely cosmetic because even her untrained eye was able to pick out several bits of damp. Taking a closer look, she noted how some of the windows seemed to line up just shy of perfectly square, as if the foundation of the room had shifted a bit.
Even as Molly shrugged out of her robe and placed it on a poolside chair, Sherlock huffed in annoyance. “There’s no one here.”
“Were you expecting someone?”
“I overheard two of the other couples discussing the pool tonight.” He pulled his robe off and stalked to the edge of the pool. “Being seen out here ‘enjoying’ ourselves would have lent credibility to our claims of getting lost should we run into a member of the staff later.”
“We’re going to get lost?” Molly dipped her foot into the water and decided it was warm enough, assuming they were actually planning to get in. Just because they were at the pool didn’t mean Sherlock was going to let her swim.
“Unless we’re particularly lucky and remain unspotted whilst I have a look around, yes.” He cast another impatient look toward the conservatory door.
“Best to work with what we have then,” he muttered, almost to himself. Before she could ask what he meant, Sherlock launched himself into the deep end of the pool. He surfaced and pushed his hair back from his face in a move that drew her gaze to the way water ran down his arms and chest, then frowned at her. “Why aren’t you in the water?”
“I wasn’t sure we were staying?” She still wasn’t, to be honest.
He motioned for her to get in the pool. “I estimate we’ll need to waste another ten to fifteen minutes out here before it would be credible that we came out to swim after the session, got overwhelmed with libidinous intentions and decided to return to our room, only to get too distracted snogging to pay attention to where we were going.”
Molly blinked. Then blinked again as she processed his rapid-fire words. “If we get caught, you mean. The-the snogging is only if we get caught. Right?”
“Obviously.” Sherlock’s brow furrowed as he looked up at her. “Did-“ He broke off to clear his throat as Molly lowered herself to the edge of the pool and then slid in. “Did you want to kiss me?”
She eased through the water, cautiously approaching him as if she were sure he would bolt if she moved too fast. He watched her, remaining unnaturally still as she stopped just out of hands reach. “I think you know the answer to that. You’ve always known.” Whether he felt like acknowledging it was another matter entirely.
Before this weekend, she would have assumed the answer was always going to be no, but now . . .
Now he looked so unsure of himself. Of them. “What do you want me to do, Sherlock?”
His bark of self-mocking laughter startled her. “Now that is a loaded question.”
They stood there for a long moment, silently watching each other. Slowly Sherlock raised his hand and reached for her. His fingers barely brushed against her cheek before the door to the conservatory burst open.
Another couple laughed as they came into the room. They waved hello at Sherlock and Molly, then kicked off their shoes and dropped their robes on the tile next to the jacuzzi.
By the time Molly looked back to Sherlock, he was swimming away from her; which was hardly a surprise considering the moment they’d just shared. She bit her lower lip and debated what she should do for a second, then made up her mind. He’d said he wanted someone to witness them ‘enjoying’ themselves, so she was going to do just that. Enjoy herself. One way or another.
She waited for him to finish another lap in the small pool, then stepped into his path. He pulled up short of swimming into her. The moment he stood, she splashed water in his face and then jumped as far away as she could, laughing the entire time.
He stared after her for a moment, then lunged. She went under when he managed to get a hold of her ankle, but she’d been expecting it and was already holding her breath. Molly twisted and turned, freeing her ankle and somehow managing to come up close enough to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Sherlock lowered his head just enough to press a chaste kiss against her lips, and then his hands were under her arms and she was flying backward into the water once more with a shriek.
Every time he managed to catch her, he’d kiss her again. Some of the kisses were as chaste as the first, some of them . . . weren’t.
Molly was so distracted by her tussle with Sherlock that she didn’t notice what the other couple were up to for several minutes. Sherlock had cornered her with her back against the pool wall, the water deep enough that she had to hold on to his arm to keep her head above it. Over his shoulder she could just see the jacuzzi and the couple practically devouring each other inside it. Sherlock noticed her wide-eyed expression and turned to look.
The woman moaned as the man’s hand disappeared from view. She threw back her head and very enthusiastically told her husband that he was in ‘just the right spot’.
Molly fought not to giggle at Sherlock’s exaggerated grimace. He nudged her toward the pool ladder and helped her up with a gentle shove on her bum.
She lost the fight as they hurriedly dried off with some towels that had been left near the door and the noises from the jacuzzi reached porn star levels of ridiculousness. She was still quietly laughing as Sherlock draped her robe over her shoulders and dragged her back into the Villa proper.
“Can you believe them?” Molly asked, equal parts scandalized and embarrassed (for herself and for the other couple). “It’s almost as if they wanted an audience.”
“They did.” Sherlock stopped at an intersection where the hall split in three directions. “It actually works well for us. They saw us in the pool, which is exactly what I was hoping for; and their lewd behaviour gave us an excuse to leave rather quickly. It’s early enough in the evening that I’m hoping most of the staff will still be busy. This way.” He took her hand and pulled her to the right.
They crept down a short hall until it dead-ended at a single door. Sherlock eased it open, peeked around, then gestured for her to follow him through. On the other side was another corridor, but this one wasn’t nearly as bright as the others they’d passed through since arriving at the Villa. There were no antique tables with large flower arrangements, no lavish wallpaper and wainscoting. Just a long hall lined with several doors and another tee at the end.
“Staff quarters. There should be more around the corner.” He softly knocked on the closest door, then tried the knob when no one answered. Before he ducked inside, he told her to signal if anyone was coming.
Molly tried to keep her attention on both ends of the hall as Sherlock travelled from door to door. All but one of the doors lead to a room that was barely half the size of the one she and Sherlock were staying in. The odd door at the end of the corridor (the only one on that side of the hall) lead outside, opening to the grounds behind the Villa. She could just see a large utility building near the treeline when Sherlock stepped back to let her take a quick look.
She kept anxiously shifting her weight from foot to foot, nerves and her still wet hair and swimsuit made her shiver. This was much more intense than just sitting in the car keeping watch during the Sandusky case. A dozen scenarios of how they would be discovered ran through her mind, each one progressively worse. Yet, somehow, they managed to turn the corner and finish looking through the last of the rooms without being interrupted.
He began to head back toward the main part of the house with Molly at his heels. “Did you find anything,” she asked in a whisper.
He paused and turned to face her. “There is an unoccupied room; bed stripped, dresser empty. Whomever cleared the room wasn’t particularly careful. Or they were in a hurry.” He held up a small photo of a couple holding hands and a pair of children grinning beside them. “Found this stuck in the back of the nightstand drawer.”
Molly moved closer to examine it, and then realized she had no real clue what Anna actually looked like. “Is that hers?”
“Most likely. I see a family resemblance with her brother in the man’s face, probably their father.” He tucked the photo into the pocket of his bathrobe. “If she left, I want to know where she went. And, more importantly, what has kept her from contacting her brother.”
“Do you-“
Suddenly Sherlock grabbed her hand and used it to pull her against his chest. Before she could ask what he was doing, he lowered his head to hers. His lips pressed hard against her own as he backed her against the wall. Sherlock took advantage of her surprised gasp to slip his tongue into her mouth, and Molly’s thoughts short circuited.
All she knew was the taste of him on her lips, the slide of his tongue against hers, the press of his warm body against her chilled skin. Her nipples pebbled against the still damp swimsuit. Molly reached up to grip his shoulders, trying to pull him down or her up; whichever direction that meant she could keep in contact with his mouth. He groaned when she nipped at his lower lip. Sherlock’s hands dropped to her hips, then lower to her bum; his fingers dug into the flesh of her arse as he ground his growing arousal against her stomach.
Molly barely heard the discrete cough coming from someone just down the hall. Even as she pushed against Sherlock’s shoulders, she was unable to keep from stealing one last kiss as he lifted his head. He looked as dazed as she felt as he turned toward their retreat host.
Simon flashed his toothy smile, although there seemed to be an annoyed edge to it. “Scott, Molly. I’m afraid you’ve wandered a bit off track from the guest areas of the Villa. Is there something I can help you find?”
Molly had to look away from him, and that’s when she noticed the pair of young men in Happy Hearts uniforms at the other end of the hall. She had no idea how long they’d been standing there—or how much they’d witnessed—but neither one of them bothered to hide their smirks at the way Sherlock still had her pinned to the wall.
She pushed on his shoulders again and he finally stepped back, holding his hand out to her when she felt a little unsteady.
“Actually, Simon,” Sherlock began. “We worked up an appetite in the pool and were hoping to find the kitchen to ask for a snack and something cool to drink.”
Molly absolutely refused to turn around at the sound of one of the men behind them choking back a snort. There was absolutely no reason for her to be embarrassed, she hadn’t really been making out with Sherlock. It was just for the case.
And she was obviously deranged if she really believed any of that.
Simon’s insincere smile turned into a knowing leer and Molly couldn’t help feel a tiny bit dirty just for being in the same room. “I’ll have someone bring a tray up to your room.” He snapped his hand toward one of the men at the end of the hall. “Robert, please show our guests the way. We wouldn’t want them to get lost again.”
Part 1 / Part 4