We stall these updates of The Lying Angel to bring you yet another multichapter fic! Mislav messaged me with a request and I really hope I did it justice! I'm really sorry it took me so long but I had to finish up some school stuff. I hope you guys enjoy

May 22, 1999

Sherlock's not sure how long he's been here staring at the amber liquid in front of him watching the bubbles break the surface. That's a lie of course. He's been sitting here for approximately an hour thirty-seven minutes and fifty-eight seconds. Only approximately because in the time it took to think that three more seconds had passed.

His father had taken him from his university interrupting a rather invigorating session where the professor threatened to throw him out of class for interrupting their teachings… again. Wasn't his fault the bumbling moron didn't know chemistry from biology. You'd think to teach forensics they'd need someone who was actually trained. In the time it'd taken the woman to give a lecture he'd already read the entirety of the textbook. To his dissatisfaction, yet again, it was a class where it wasn't anything he didn't know. He'd taken quite a fascination with forensics and police investigations. Which lead to a rather angry professor when he constantly fact checked her in the middle of class.

Beside the point he supposes. Father had dragged him to America on business. Now he was in the ever so glorious New York, New York which surprise surprise turned out to be yet another mindless tourist trap masking the pests that littered subways, restaurants, motels, et cetera.

"Rum and coke." A voice clips through his thoughts dragging his head to his right side. The bar was pretty packed and the seats were all filled except for the one beside him, well it was at least. To his left was a not so pleasant smelling older gentleman ranting and raving about some American game on the television but he had the decency to keep his back turned to Sherlock. This new guest, however, appeared to be alone.

The woman appeared to be of asian descent around his age. Her hair was tied up messily, tendrils falling from the hasty ponytail. His eyes flash down to her fingers cataloguing every detail of her. May as well put his skills to test while he's waiting on his father. "You're a student?" He asks.

The woman startles, dark eyes flashing over to him. "Yeah how'd you know?"

"Paper cuts on your hands. Typical of a student studying for finals plus you're here alone on a Saturday night. Not exactly common for people our age."

"Our age?"

"No younger than twenty two yet no older than twenty five." He guesses.

"Twenty four." She smirks eyes sparking in the dim light of the bar. She's wearing a minimal amount of makeup, just bare enough that he can spy her freckles beneath. By all means and conventions, she's incredibly attractive. "Needed a break from studying." She shrugs with a small smile teasing at her lips. He partly wonders what he could say to get her to smile fully. Just another of those moments he supposes. "My roommate isn't exactly helpful. What about you? Transfer?"

"Not exactly." He shrugs sipping at his drink. "My father has business in America." He frowns in distaste at the whole scenario once again. "If you could consider it to be business." She throws him a questioning look causing him to shrug. "Since my mother died he's gotten involved in suspicious deals. I pretend not to notice but-"

"You noticed I was a student from the paper cuts on my hands." The woman scoffs.

"Precisely." He tips the rest of the drink back allowing the liquid to burn down his throat. "What does it matter if you can just block all of it out?" He gestures to the now empty glass. "Kind of hard to feel anything when you're numb inside." He chuckles. The woman's lips twist into a frown as she tips back her own drink as soon as it's set in front of her.

"Let me show you something. A little trick I have." Sherlock raises an eyebrow curiously.

"I don't even know your name." He laughs bitterly.

"Joan." She reveals with a small grin. She gestures to the bartender and the man brings over two bottles of whiskey. "Buddy of mine. Owes me for saving his ass from some vindictive chick set on ruining his life." She shrugs.

"My name's Sean." He lies. He's not even sure why he does.

"Do you want to get out of here?" She leans against the bar, the look in her eyes suggestive. He throws a look to his phone eyeing the screen for some interruption. He expects to be imagining this somehow. He eyes the alcohol wondering if he'd lost track of how many drinks he'd had. Statistically improbable… Suddenly Joan flushes, eyes flashing to the ground. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that. I'll take care of your check." She shuffles through her wallet, a deep red blush crawling up her pale neck.

He's not sure what possesses him but he places his hand on top of hers. "Let's go." Her eyes stare at him wide, shocked. He smirks whipping out his wallet and paying for both of their drinks as well as the bottles before she can react. She gapes at the gesture stuttering to find the words. "I believe he deserves more than a little pay for the crowd he's putting up with right now, favor or not." He smirks. He leads them outside with her hot on his heels.

She seems to get her confidence back as soon as they step outside. She grabs his hand twisting him around to face her before pressing her lips to his. She's soft everywhere that he's hard. Her lips are smooth beneath his, fingers locked in a fist around his shirt. His hands settle on her hips pushing them backwards until she presses back against the brick wall of the bar. Her teeth nip at his bottom lip drawing a groan from his lips.

She pulls back first, a devilish smirk on her mouth as she slips from beneath his arms which had settled on either side of her head. She whistles signaling a cab to stop by and pick them up. She slides in the back seat gracefully, pale legs beckoning him to climb in after her. She murmurs an address to the driver before leaning back to him once more. Smooth, lean fingers loop in his tracing patterns into the back of his hand with her thumb. He categorizes the callouses on her fingertips contrasting against the otherwise soft skin. He closes his eyes listing off the reasons they would exist to distract himself from her white teeth nibbling on her swollen lips.

The cab screeches to a stop surprisingly quickly. He throws a look to Joan who's already climbing out of the car. "Thanks." She says tossing placing cash in the driver's upturned hand. Sherlock stumbles out after her following her into the apartment. "My roommate is out of town visiting family." She notes the weird look over her shoulder. He can tell by the tensing of posture as she climbs the stairs. "Her brother was in an accident and is in the hospital." Her voice is rough with emotion. So she knew the brother… "God I don't know why I'm telling you this." She laughs bitterly.

It's his turn to grip her hand now as she moves towards a door. A quick flash of keys confirms his suspicion that this is, indeed, her room. He presses her against the door kissing her quickly to ignore the tears building in her eyes. A complete stranger is confiding in him and here he is pinning her to the door. She doesn't seem to complain though as she wraps her arms around his neck, the cool bottoms of both bottles pressing against his spine through his t-shirt. She pushes him back suddenly to turn and fidget with the lock. He takes the opportunity to push her long ponytail to the side peppering her neck in kisses. Freckles dust the back of her neck like constellations teasing him to piece them together with his tongue. The door finally gives sending them both stumbling inside.

He catches her quickly taking both bottles from her slim fingers and placing them on a nearby table before pushing her back against the door. His lips attach to her neck as his fingers slide up her spine and into her hair. Gently he tugs on the hair tie freeing her ebony locks. Long hair falls gracefully over sharp cheekbones framing her face beautifully. She grabs the front of his tee dragging him back up to her lips once more.

He slides his hand up the back of her leg teasing the edges of her skirt. A long moan draws from her lips as his fingers trace the edges of her panties. He wonders for a second what other noises he could pull from those lips. Again she's the one to break contact, pushing him through the home. She tugs his shirt off discarding it somewhere in the hallway. Her fingers tug at his belt as she pushes him into a bedroom. His knees hit the edge of the bed as he notes how neat the place is.

Joan slides a slim leg over his lap straddling him. A manicured hand settles on his chest before pushing his back onto the bed. "Stop thinking." She growls before pressing her lips to his again. His fingers slide up the back of her thighs drawing a whine from her throat only for it to muffle against his lips. Their shoes clatter on the floor loudly as they kick them off together. Deft fingers undo his belt attempting to push them down without interrupting contact. He lifts his hips to help her, ending up in his hard on to press against her center. A gasp leaves her throat at the unexpected contact, hips bucking into his.

His fingers slide up her abdomen slipping up her button up with them. Her muscles contract at his touch, rippling pleasantly. Her fingers lace in his hair pushing his head against her chest. He smirks kissing her breasts through the slim material of her shirt. Her hips grind against his as he continues his descent lower still. Her entire body shivers as his lips make contact with her skin. Her fingers grip his chin forcing his eyes up to hers. His fingers still on her hips as he's floored by the look on her face.

"God you're beautiful." She breathes.

"Not me, you." He protests.

"You say you're numb…" She drones off, long nails stroking down the hair on his chest. Her eyes fall to his tattoos, biting her bottom lip. "I beg to differ." She chuckles. His eyes fall to his pants as buzzing echoes in the empty room.

"I'm sorry. That's father." His chin sets as he moves to get up from underneath her. She's quicker though snagging the phone from the pockets of his discarded jeans. She turns the thing off throwing it aside with a frown. "Life sucks. So what?" He flinches at the sudden change in attitude. She marches over to a drawer digging through the contents. When she finds what she's been looking for she saunters back over to him, eyes dark as they roam over his form. "Here…" She emphasizes straddling his lap and pressing the condom she'd found onto his chest. "Now… we forget." She commands rolling her hips against his.

"Joan…" He moans tipping his head back.

"Just for tonight. We don't think." Those sinful nails are back again, more rough this time as she scratches down his back. She guides his fingers up her thighs until they stroke her through her underwear. She's unbelievably wet, he notes as he pushes them aside. He slides a finger inside her catching her off guard. Her hips buck against his hand as a gasp leaves swollen lips. "No thinking." She purrs, lips dragging up his shoulder and the side of his throat.

"No thinking." He agrees inserting another finger inside of her. Her own fingers push his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring out freely. She wraps her hand around him stroking him. She finds the condom tearing open the wrapping before her hand is on him again, sliding the damned thing onto him. His head tips back allowing her to take advantage of the newly exposed skin.

He removes his fingers from inside her and in a daring moment he licks them clean. Something dark flashes in her eyes as she grips his chin pressing her lips to his harshly. Shuffling between them she somehow manages to rid of her skirt and panties as well as his boxers. She takes him in her free hand lining him up. She pulls away from him watching him intently as she sinks onto him. A smirk slips onto her lips as she begins rocking against them. It doesn't take her long before they're bucking against each other quickly.

Her fingers tug his from their bruising grip on her hips sliding up the front of her blouse. He looks up at her pleadingly almost asking for permission. She nods slightly and he rips the thing down the middle, buttons scattering across the otherwise silent room. His mouth attacks the tops of her breasts allowing him to hit a new spot inside of her. Her walls ripple around his cock drawing another moan from his lips. He snaps open her bra easily discarding both items of clothing. His lips attach to her newly exposed nipples.

"Good boy." She purrs combing her fingers through his hair. He runs his tongue around the hardened peak before sucking it between his lips once more. "Spank me." She growls. He can't help but obey, the smack resonating through the empty room. She moans tossing her head back and he can't help himself from spanking her once more. He wants to know all the noises he can coax from her lips, reddened from their rough kissing. "Pull my hair." The strands of her long locks tangle between his fingers. A long whine leaves her throat as he tugs her head back. He takes advantage of her exposed skin sucking on the silky spot at the edge of her jaw. He knows it'll leave a mark but he doesn't give a damn.

"Tell me what you want me to do." He pleads against her skin.

"Touch me." His free hand slides between them flicking at her clit. Her hips stutter as she's suddenly slammed with her orgasm. She doesn't stop rocking though. "Sean…" She groans raking her nails down his back roughly. He hisses through the pain and like a switch flicking he follows her close behind. He sobs her name into her skin at his release, arms wrapped around her as if she'll disappear if he lets go.

The aftershocks are long subsided when she finally rolls to the side and off of him. "Wow." He mutters staring at the ceiling. She takes the condom off of him and ties it up before tossing it into a wastebasket not far from her bedside. She hops up snagging his t-shirt onto her body before rushing off to the living room. She comes back in seconds both bottles in hand.

"It's going to be a long night." She smirks passing him one. She tips her own back taking a long swig of the contents. He does the same enjoying the fire of the whiskey as it burns down to his stomach.

They alternate between orgasms and drinks of whiskey. They don't collapse until the sun is beginning to rise. Her long ebony hair drapes over her chest as she breathes evenly. She's drunk a whole lot more of her bottle than him, her's half full and his three quarters. He knows he needs to get up. She likely won't remember this in the morning with how much she drank. Yet he feels his eyes getting heavily, lulled by the steady thrumming of her heart against his chest. He lets his eyes fall shut with a sigh as she burrows closer to him.

Just a few minutes...