Sherlock peeked into Phoebe's flat, his smile growing when he heard her singing.

He walked into the kitchen to see her dancing around while bringing out some ingredients, putting them where she wanted them.

Sherlock walked over to her, grabbing her hand gently, spinning her around which startled her at first. He chuckled lightly as he spun her once more. "You look like you're having fun."

Phoebe smiled as she looked up at him. "I'm baking dinner and pie for dessert. Irene asked me to so I couldn't refuse."

"Can I help?" Sherlock asked as he looked at the stuff on the counter.

"You want to help?" Phoebe questioned, genuinely surprised by his request.

"Why not? John took Irene shopping today so I'm just sitting around. There's no point in looking for the photo any longer. She clearly hidden it well enough that she can leave the flat without any trouble at all, or she has it on her in which case one of us just has to make sure she doesn't send it," Sherlock replied.

"Well, I mean if you really want to, I can have you help me," Phoebe said as her smile grew. "Come here. I haven't really started yet so I can teach you."

Sherlock smiled and leaned against the counter as she turnned to grab the last three ingredients.

"I will get a slice of this, right?" Sherlock looked at Phoebe who laughed a bit.

"Yes. It's for all of us," Phoebe replied while reaching to open her cupboard.

She looked at the sifter on the top shelf and she reached for it while standing on her tip toes.

Sherlock snickered as he reached up from behind her, grabbing the sifter with ease.

Phoebe looked at him with a glare. "Don't say a word."

"I won't!" Sherlock held up his hands in defense after setting down the sifter.

Phoebe huffed as she turned around to start working.

"Why do you have stuff so high up? Hoe did you even get it up there?" Sherlock said and she turned around, swatting his chest. "I can't help it!"

"You can shut your mouth about my height! I'm not that short!"

"You're fun sized! It's cute!" Sherlock teased, laughing as her cheeks puffed up in annoyance.

"You're insufferable," Phoebe grumbled. "Now are we gonna get started or not?"

"Do you have everything from the topshelf?" Sherlock asked with a grin.

"You don't have to have a slice, you know."

"I'll shut up."

-

Phoebe cleaned up dinner with Sherlock washing dishes for her. He insisted on helping so she let him.

"Oh, by the way, Lord Moriarty invited me to a masquerade ball tomorrow night," Phoebe said which made Sherlock look up.

"But I need your help tomorrow," Sherlock replied quickly. "I think I know how we can get the file from Irene."

"File? I thought it was a photo," she said as she looked over at Sherlock.

Sherlock rinsed off his hands and turned to lean against the counter. "I did some thinking. Irene has constantly wanted to be out on public with me in particular. Whenever you or John goes out with her she always asks for me to come along, but she spends almost all her time with you at home. Stands to reason that she wants to be around me in the public eye."

"That is true. So you think she is trying to use your current fame to her advantage?"

"Precisely," Sherlock confirmed. "If she was only threatening to send a photo to the king's betrothed, she wouldn't need to keep in the public eye. The king was obviously not taking great action, so she is using me for protection from somebody who is willing to kill her. But if my popularity is enough to keep her safe, then it eliminates some options, such as the mafia."

"The government would have to be more careful though," Phoebe realized and Sherlock chuckled lightly.

"That's exactly right. So I conclude that Adler stole something from the British government and that's why she came to us. That would explain how she was ready for us the night her house burnt down," Sherlock explained.

"So you need my help to get the files from her?"

"You're closer to her than the rest of us, so I figure that if your here during the plan then it will most definitely work," Sherlock replied as he smiled at Phoebe.

"And what is this plan exactly?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow.

Sherlock chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll tell you tomorrow when I tell Miss Hudson and John."

Phoebe sighed as she dried her hands, shaking her head. "What am I to do with you, Holmes?"

"You could bake another pie with me," he suggested without any pause.

"We just cleaned up. You can wait for another day," Phoebe said with a light laugh.

Sherlock huffed as he slumped. "Fine."

"You'll survive. I promise," Phoebe said, patting his arm before she took off her apron.

"So you aren't gonna go to the ball, right?"

"Well, you need me here, so I'll be here," Phoebe told him and he could't help but smile.

She turned to turn off the oil lamp on her table when Sherlock wrapped his arms around her. Phoebe paused as Sherlock rested his chin on her head.

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

Sherlock moved his head and looked down at her. "Hugging you. Wasn't that obvious? I quite enjoyed your hugs when we were kids."

"You would always complain whenever I even so much as touched you," Phoebe argued.

"But your hugs were always so calming. Even now, they are extremely comforting. You're always very warm," Sherlock mumbled and Phoebe felt her cheeks heat up.

She went silent and simply rested her cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Phee, you aren't mad at me anymore are you?"

"What?" Phoebe looked up at him quickly.

"Are you still mad at me for leaving you?" Sherlock looked down at her with a small frown. "I really never meant to hurt you."

"I'm not mad at you, Sherly. I promise." Phoebe reached up and gently cupped his cheek. "I'm just glad that I have you back. You mean so much to me."

Sherlock stayed silent for a moment as Phoebe's thumb caressed his cheek. His eyes travelled to her lips and he thought about the night he had kissed her. Her lips had been so soft and she tasted like vanilla.

His mind wandered as he thought about how she might taste like the apple pie they had just eaten. He leaned down quickly and captured her lips in a soft kiss. The moment he felt her returning the kiss, he held her a bit tighter.

Phoebe's mind reeled as she savored the sweet taste of his lips that melded with the chemical scent that clung to him. She had no idea where this was coming from, but she was too delighted to care.

Sherlock pulled away for air, but could still feel Phoebe's breath against his face as he watched her carefully. Her cheeks were flushed and her pink lips were very slightly swollen. He wasn't sure where along his travelling mind he had reached the thought, but he pictured her under him and it was thoroughly arousing. His lips quickly returned to hers as his eyes shut, the image of her lying beneath him playing in his mind.

Phoebe felt her body being pressed against the counter as Sherlock held her waist. She couldn't form a single coherent thought as her mind raced. She felt as though she were going to explode. She desperately wanted this to last forever.

Sherlock's hands traveled to the ties of her corset and she felt her heart pound even harder. She couldn't find the ability to object, not that she really wanted to.

The detective moved his lips down Phoebe's neck as he loosened her corset, going slow enough for her to stop him if she so desired.

He heard a light whimper slip through her lips and a jolt went down his spine. He wanted to hear that little noise again, a million times over.

Sherlock slowly led them towards her room since it was closer than his own. He didn't care if it was improper. Screw society. He needed to feel her soft skin against his. He needed to hear those noises she had made. He needed to see her face as he touched every inch of her body.

He hadn't had these thoughts before and they were strange to him, but he felt as though his whole body was out of his own control. His mind was centered on one thing.

He wanted to have her all to himself.

🔎

John sat at the table with the daily newspaper and Phoebe sipped her tea as she read a letter from her brother.

The door burst open and Sherlock stood in the door with a proud look, a not so happy Miss Hudson standing behind him.

"So! I have a plan!"

"Well, let's hear it," John said as he put down the newspaper.

"We're gonna set off a bomb!" Sherlock announced and Phoebe choked on her tea a little.

"We're gonna do what?" She looked at the mad man with a confused looked.

"We're gonna use an explosion to make Irene think that we were attacked because of her. We'll tell her she needs to get out. She wouldn't dare leave the file behind and we'll see where she hid it. It's genius!" Sherlock explained with a bright smile.

"It's risky," Phoebe argued.

"Look, it's our chance to get our hands on this secret file and see what she stole. We only get one try so it has to work," Sherlock replied and Miss Hudson sighed.

"I'm alright with it as long as it works. You will be fixing your mess though, Sherlock!" Martha jabbed a finger into his chest after he turned to look at her.

"Absolutely!"

Phoebe shook her head and took another sip of her tea. "You are absolutely insane."

Sherlock sat on the sofa with his arms spread across the back. "It's what makes me amazing."

"If you say so," Phoebe laughed lightly, finishing her tea.

Sherlock watched Phoebe, noticing that she was avoiding eye contact. He hadn't spoken with her since the previous morning and he was almost worried that she was upset with him.

He really didn't want her to be mad. When she got mad, everyone was afraid. It didn't happen often though, and he was not trying to make it happen now.

"When is this plan happening?" Phoebe asked, breaking Sherlock from his thoughts.

"Tonight. Irene said she had to meet someone later," Sherlock said as he looked at her. "That's when we'll get to work. We need her to believe we've been attacked because of her."

"We're trusting you," Phoebe replied as she finally looked into his eyes.

"I won't let you down. I promise." Sherlock's face brightened when her eyes met his.

Phoebe's lips pulled into a small smile as she looked down at her lap.

John sat quitely as he watched the two. He could see the look on Phoebe's face. He had known for a while now that she had feelings for the detective. To him it was obvious, though he wasn't sure if Sherlock had figured it out himself. He wasn't about to interfere, but he knew the two would figure everything out for themselves.

🔎

"Sherlock, are you sure about this?" Phoebe asked as she looked at Sherlock after getting ash all over herself.

"It's gonna work, Phee. I know it," Sherlock assured her. "It's now or never. John, is it ready?"

"Yeah, the bomb is set," John said as he walked over.

"Perfect. As long as we stay low to the ground, we shouldn't get hit," Sherlock spoke. "...much..."

Phoebe sighed but just shook her head. "Alright then. Let's do this."

They all got into position and waited for Irene to arrive home.

It only took a bit, but John tapped the table.

"She's here," he whispered.

Sherlock nodded and waited a few moments before he lit the fuse. He threw up the dynamite before shoving Phoebe down to the ground, shielding her from the force of the blast.

Then came the loud,

BOOM!