Little by little, almost imperceptibly, his hand drifts further up her thigh. His window of concentration is narrowing sharply down around her.
As it's a Tuesday night, traffic isn't bad. It's a quiet, short ride, and thankfully the cabbie doesn't rabbit on about nothing.
Just as his fingers begin to curve toward her inner thigh, they pull up in front of her flat. The wave of dizziness that hits Sherlock is so strong he gives their driver a fifty instead of a twenty as he's getting out. (Not that he'll care later, when he figures out why he's fifty quid short.)
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Little by little, almost imperceptibly, his hand drifts further up her thigh. His window of concentration is narrowing sharply down around her.
As it's a Tuesday night, traffic isn't bad. It's a quiet, short ride, and thankfully the cabbie doesn't rabbit on about nothing.
Just as his fingers begin to curve toward her inner thigh, they pull up in front of her flat. The wave of dizziness that hits Sherlock is so strong he gives their driver a fifty instead of a twenty as he's getting out. (Not that he'll care later, when he figures out why he's fifty quid short.)