for womanwhobeatyou: Waking up in Vegas---again.

[the_new_sexy]

Follows this.

It's surprising when morning comes. Sherlock rarely sleeps when he's on a case, and this entire excursion is really just a case in and of itself. Even more than that, he rarely sleeps an entire night. However, when he looks at the blinds in the motel room, he can see the faint hints of pink streaming through. Dawn, then. In the part of the world he used to live in, it would be nearly noon, if not very early afternoon.

He turns his head to look at the Woman, still sleeping next to him. She stayed.

She's different when she sleeps. He remarked on it to John when he found her sleeping in his bed so long ago. Not like an angel, of course, no one would ever think of the Woman as an angel. Instead, she looks like all of the things she's holding tightly together are relaxed, and she's comfortable. It's a strange thing, but beautiful in its own way.

He lets his hand rest on her shoulder. Are there people that find this sort of thing normal? Waking up next to a lover, watching the light stream in? Sherlock imagines there must be people who are accustomed to it.

Comments

[the_new_sexy]

"And you, if you'd learn to take my word as gospel," he replies, irritably. No, being angry isn't going to work.

He steps behind her, putting a hand on her hip, while the other slides down her arm, to where she's injured. It's an intimate gesture, one that suggests concern and caring.

If she's very good, the Woman might even recognize its similarity to when she jabbed him with the needle back in her flat in Belgravia.

He slips the keys from her pocket and steps away from her instantly, moving towards the drivers' side.

"And, unless you want to be left in the desert, you're going to have to learn how to."

[womanwhobeatyou]

She doesn't notice the similarity, not until he's taken a step towards the car and she realizes the keys are no longer in her pocket. Her eyes narrow and she pointedly sits back down on the concrete.

"Easier to do if your word isn't utterly rooted in being contrary," she points out as she pulls a roll of gauze out of the first aid kit. Not that she would, ever, but that isn't the point, now is it?

The kit is well stocked, but then she shouldn't be surprised, given whose car they had taken. Short of paramedics, killers were the best at preserving lives, namely their own. "I'm not going anywhere until I've stopped, what did you call it, 'leaving a spectacular trail for those who are following us.'"

[the_new_sexy]

He turns back to her after unlocking the door. She doesn't have to be this way, but she is, and it's infuriating. She's doing it on purpose. She's going to bleed to death on purpose, to prove something.

"In the car, then," he says. "There's nothing you can do down there that you can't do in a vehicle."

[womanwhobeatyou]

"I disagree." Calmly said as she uses some gauze and an antiseptic wipe to mop up the last of the blood that had dried on her arm. She's having some trouble gauging how deep and just how clean the cut is, but the pain is manageable, which means it is probably not too bad.

It stings. Another good sign. Likely there's no nerve damage. She takes the bandage again and begins slowly wrapping it around her arm, though she is doing an abysmal job applying pressure one handed. "You're practically leaving bloody footprints and neither of us can take care of that while you're trying to drive a car."

[the_new_sexy]

"I'll be fine," he says at the door. He's in pain. A not inconsiderable amount, but it's not that bad. Not really.

"Woman, I do not want to have to have to carry you. Get up."

She's bleeding badly. Part of him wants to go over there and help her staunch the wound, to help get it reasonable before he takes her to the hospital. This isn't a terrible idea, she might even accept it more readily. Of course, that means that she wins.

The other part of him wants to have her faint already so he can carry her into the car and get to the hospital. This is also fairly likely, though potentially more dangerous. Of course, that also means she wins.

She's winning in both cases. This is very irritating.

He gets into the car and starts it. Revs the engine.

[womanwhobeatyou]

She stares at him through the the windshield as he revs the engine, and for a moment Irene is tempted to let him leave, to see how far he will get down the desert road before he turns back. But another part of her recognizes that it'd make things worse, for both of them, for both their far too battered bodies at the moment, to keep pushing.

But to let him drive would be to let him win, and she hates that.

She purses her lips and glares at him before picking up the first aid supplies and standing up. Instead of making her way to either the passenger seat or the back, she walks over to the driver's side and drops the first aid supplies into his lap.

"I'll drive while you wrap up my arm."

[the_new_sexy]

"No," he says. She won't go to the hospital. He knows this, because she's thinking logically. Hospitals are far too dangerous. He should be thinking this way, too, but the danger of a hospital is far less than the danger of losing the Woman to blood loss.

[womanwhobeatyou]

"Fine," she grinds out. "If you're going to be stubborn about this."

She honestly isn't sure if he's being stubborn or irrational. Her response to both is the same. Namely, to turn back around and stalk back to the shelter of the gas station rather than the car.

Fortunately, she hadn't added the roll of gauze to the supplies she'd dumped in his lap, so as she sits down, Irene continues rewinding the gauze around her arm, pointedly ignoring him.

[the_new_sexy]

"Woman."

She's sitting down. She's now in the way that he can't pull away to prove a point. It's even more aggravating.

"If you're being this difficult, you can't be hurt very badly," he snaps. annoyed.

[womanwhobeatyou]

She manages to tie the bandage one-handed, but it's irritatingly unkempt, and she knows that she'll have to redo it in an hour, if not less. She finally looks up.

"Hasn't that been my point?"

[the_new_sexy]

"No, your point is to exemplify the stereotype that all Women are stubborn to the point of self-deprecating. Now, get in the car! We have to move!"

He doesn't like the note of emotion that slips through his voice. The sentiment, the worry. It's all very...annoying.

[womanwhobeatyou]

Now that she's finished what she had been doing, her attention is fully on him and she can hear pick out the edge of emotion, the touch of something in his voice that is different. Her brow furrows as she watches him, and she asks,

"Why?"

[the_new_sexy]

He gestures to the world around them.

"Do you want to stay in the desert?"

[womanwhobeatyou]

She remains unmoved and unmoving. "You're not answering the question."

[the_new_sexy]

"Because until you get into the car I can't leave the desert," he says. As if to correct himself, he adds: "Without hitting you, and that might take the paint off the car."

That's what he tells himself, of course, but he won't leave without her. He knows this. He finds himself speaking what he's trying to convince himself:

"I went to Karachi to save your life, and I've got shards of glass in my feet from going back to get the keys to save your life, so I'd rather you just get into the car so that all the work I've put into saving your non-existant life can remain intact, all right?"

[womanwhobeatyou]

She doesn't bother pointing out that the only reason he still had shards of glass in his feet was because he was too stubborn to take care of it now. She doesn't, because he's still talking as if she wouldn't take advantage of whatever words he uses, and there is something here that she isn't seeing, some small piece of the puzzle of whatever is going on inside his head that would make everything make sense.

"I wasn't aware that we were still in mortal danger. Well, immediate mortal danger."

[the_new_sexy]

"Every moment we are in this country, we're in danger," he says. "As we've shown, avoiding them one moment doesn't mean we'll continue to. We need to find another car and get to an airport. Or you could continue to stand there and argue and we'll go absolutely nowhere anytime soon."

[womanwhobeatyou]

She tilts her head, watching him, and as she does a wave of dizziness hits her and Irene holds very still until it passes.

She knows how much blood she'd need to lose before she start feeling the effects, and it hadn't been nearly enough. Except that measurement had been before Karachi, before her death and the subsequent life on the run and hidden. Less than.

She takes a slow, deep breath, and wills it to pass before speaking. "You're missing a step in the equation, Mr. Holmes. You'll cause a scene in the airport in the state you're in now."

[the_new_sexy]

"Yes," he says. "Which is why we need to go and get clothing."

She wobbles, but it's so subtle that Sherlock is almost uncertain he saw it. The Woman is too poised to give into dizziness, and it's everything in him to remain in the car rather than reaching out to catch her.

"And if you get into the car, then I might not have to carry you."

A pause.

"Please."

[womanwhobeatyou]

It's the 'please' that convinces her. That is the key to unlocking what she hears in his voice, the edge of actual worry, of sentiment, and when it falls into place she sighs and walks back to the car.

Because she realizes what has been driving him and she caves. It's losing and she cannot help it.

"I will if you let me drive."

The fact that the worry is mutual doesn't make her feel any better.

[the_new_sexy]

"You're not in any condition to and you know it," he says, and his voice sounds a shade defeated. He knows he's lost. He's betrayed himself by showing his emotions and even more so by actually having them.

But he can't just let her take them to buy clothing, to get on an airplane to a strange island and not make certain she's all right. Even if it's only a pint of blood, even if it's---he just can't. He can't.

He's stopping, he realizes. He's stopping everything for her. It's worse than bingeing for three days because of John because this won't stop. It won't stop until they've killed her.

[womanwhobeatyou]

"Nothing a glass of orange juice and an iron supplement won't fix," she answers. There's a touch of forced levity in her voice, nearly. Because she can tell he is caving and the power balance is shifting. And she likes it exactly where it had been before.

She waits for him to move out of the driver's seat. "Maybe two, and a few hours of sleep."

[the_new_sexy]

"Thirty seconds," he says. "And then I'm driving off and sending an ambulance back for you."

It's not a false threat, he tells himself. It doesn't matter that he's concerned about her. No, it doesn't. Because once the ambulance gets here, he can follow it to a hospital to keep her safe.

[womanwhobeatyou]

She glares at him, and for twenty seconds does absolutely nothing.

It doesn't matter that the ambulance could put lie to the fact that Irene Adler was dead. It doesn't matter that it would most certainly alert the people seeking them exactly where they were. It doesn't matter because he's still pushing.

Twenty-one. Twenty-two.

With a growl of pure frustration, she stalks over to the back seat and practically throws herself into it, glaring at him in the rearview mirror as she does so.

[the_new_sexy]

He holds out, counting the seconds in his head until she finally gives in and drops into the back seat. He swallows back the sigh of relief he feels bubbling up. Hospital. Now.

He doesn't talk to her, doesn't even say something smug or smart. He simply starts up the car and drives it down the road, leaving behind an abandoned petrol station and a lot of DNA evidence.