"Fascinating." Sheryl thought to herself as she sat plucking her violin the living room of 221B. It really was quite fascinating, the attention that men gave to Joan, her flat mate, colleague, and supposedly friend. The smaller woman was making herself a piece of toast and a cup of tea in the kitchen.
Sheryl narrowed her eyes. What was it that made women sexually appealing? Small size was often a factor and many men chose shorter women in order to feel superior. So Joan was small. Small, sandy blonde, adorably heavy in a delicate kind of way. She was certainly not fragile, shapely hips in well fitted jeans that complimented her backside. And, she had honest puppy eyes that were currently looking up and over at Sheryl.
"What?" Joan asked in response to the attention Sheryl was directing at her.
Sheryl acted as if she hadn't heard the question. She grabbed the bow of her violin and played a note at random, dragging the bow back and forth across the string to create one long, loud, and irritatingly continuous note.
Joan shrugged, picking up her cup and toast before comfortably dropping herself into the other armchair. Her soft jumper folded over her stomach and bunched around her curves in ways that would be easy to grab or hold delicately if one were, say, a lover of some kind.
Sheryl's bow missed a beat and skidded over the next string into a shrill and angry squeak.
"God Sheryl!" Joan said cringing, wrinkling her small rounded nose in pain, "What was that for?"
"I need a case Joan! I case! I'm rotting over here! I haven't done anything in days!"
Joan rolled her eyes and picked up a newspaper. She preferred to suffer in silence today rather than try to tame Sheryl.
The latter stood up and paced around the room. Joan stuffed her nose further into her reading.
Sheryl glared quizzically at Joan as she paced. It wasn't that Joan was altogether stereotypically attractive. She had a rather strong body and broad shoulders despite her large hips and her legs were slightly shorter than proportionally appealing so she had a certain sturdiness to the way she held herself, still military after over a year now.
Honestly Sheryl could not understand the appeal of this woman for men. She didn't understand the attention they received whenever they went out in public. First the stares would be directed at Joan, then at Sheryl, and then back to Joan upon which many of them would develop a lecherous grin.
It was ever so slightly unnerving though Sheryl knew she could deflect practically any unwanted advancements and Joan was a fighter herself so there was nothing to worry about on that front. But it did irritate her when all men around them did was stare at Joan's upper chest…
In the living room, Joan had lazily flicked a page and her loose sweater had slipped off of one of her shoulders, exposing smooth skin and a collarbone. Sheryl was surprised that Joan was suddenly so comfortable that she didn't notice this slip or even move to fix it. The strap of her bra was blue. Sheryl hadn't thought about Joan's breasts. That was probably an explanation for…
Obviously. Now Sheryl could see exactly where the lecherous thoughts were directed. Joan's bosom was indeed generous and fell under one of those soft plump areas of her that would be comfortable to hold or…
Sheryl violently pulled open the drawer where her gun was, grabbed it, and began to shoot at the wall.
"Sheryl!" Joan put down her newspaper and hurried over to her flat mate, trying to coax her arm down and the gun out of her hands. "Mr. Hudson already made us pay for the last holes in the wall and said that if it happened one more time he would…"
Sheryl had stopped listening and was concentrating on Joan's face. Maybe she was exaggerating about men's attention towards Joan. Really, she was quite average looking and it was only natural that they would find some appeal in a woman like her. From this close Sheryl could see the lines in Joan's face that showed fatigue and the wounds of battle as well as sleepless nights on a case. But there was a certain blush to her cheeks and her lips… Sheryl almost stopped thinking, concentrating on Joan's lips which were full and very red.
"Bored…" Sheryl whispered. As one part of her rational brain tried to figure out exactly what was going on, the rest of Sheryl leaned in and placed her lips on Joan's and her long violinist fingers on Joan's hips. Joan stood motionless, eyes open looking at Sheryl's face right up next to hers, fingers limp around the gun that she had wrenched from Sheryl's hands.
The gun dropped to the floor as Joan closed her eyes and reached up into Sheryl's black curls which were slightly greasy from a lazy morning. Her lips moved against Sheryl's and: This was new. This was very new. This feeling of desire, of raw emotion that really was not very good for brainwork but then she could always buy more nicotine patches…
Sheryl's brain shut down for exactly 8.2 seconds before Joan pulled away. She looked up at Sheryl through her eyelashes and clearly this was how seduction was done normally.
Joan was blushing. "Well that was… ummm… unexpected." She mumbled, hands still in Sheryl's hair.
Sheryl moved away completely, completely detaching herself from her shocked and emotional flat mate. "I suppose it must have been." With that Sheryl took herself into her room leaving Joan shocked and confused in the middle of the living room with nothing to prove what had just happened but a gun on the floor and a ghost of a kiss on her lips.