Thread: The Deduction of Human Emotions (Dreamer- and Elise)

Sherlock woke up that morning to an empty house once again. It was normal since she tended to sleep in, only getting up once the sunlight coming in threw the curtains got too insistent. Sherlock was tangled up in the sheets on her bed and took a bit longer then necessary to find her way out. She was reluctant to start the day, but also excited by the prospect of tonight. She was finally going to put into motion the experiments she had planned, and the strategies to seduce Watson. The concept felt foreign to her, and she couldn't help the odd feeling that was building up in the pit of her stomach. Sherlock knew she had to tread carefully in this area, since Joan was sensitive with the subject on dating her own gender, but also that if this fell apart, the friendship both women had built up would be totally wasted. Yet the more she contemplated the idea, the more it made sense. Why shouldn't they be in a relationship? They got along well, both admired each other for different things, spent ample amounts of time together, and put up with the annoying things both tended to do. Going from simply 'friends', to 'more then friends' should have been the easiest thing, in theory. But since everything seemed to hinge on erratic human emotions, Sherlock couldn't just jump into this. This is the part where the planning and research took place. As it was Sherlock was groping around the floor for her laptop and sitting up in her bed to get into a comfortable position. Once her fingers felt the cold, hard edge of the plastic case she lifted up into her lap and rested it on her crisscrossed legs. For the next few hours Sherlock spent her time looking threw various sites, some more credible then others. It truly seemed sexual orientation was not so cut and dry as others would have liked to believe, and for that Sherlock was thankful. She could use doubts and feelings to her advantage, almost like she did with Molly Hooper over at Bart's. At the notion of the brown haired woman, Sherlock sat back against the bed's headrest. It was very easy to wrap the girl around her finger and use her whenever need be, because her feelings for Sherlock were as obvious as day. Joan wasn't the same in that regard, or it could have been that she just didn't have those same feelings for Sherlock at all. The detective shook her head sharply, waving the thought away, knowing that if this was true there was no hope of a relationship at all. She had to work with what was there, no matter how small. There was a lot of information on techniques and strategies she could use on Joan that she found on the internet. But it took time weeding threw the unlikely and down right strange to find something subtle and elegant. Even though subtle wasn't one of Sherlock's more defined qualities, it would be one of the key things needed for her plans to work. When she was happy with her knowledge on the 'how to seduce your best-friend' subject, Sherlock finally got out of bed and looked at the time. It would be only a few hours till Joan got back, so she was fine. First she started out with a shower, keeping the water hot enough so that her pale skin turned pink. She took her time in scrubbing down her body, letting the body scrub's spicy scent seep into her skin. When she got out of the shower she put up her hair in a hand towel and dried off her long limbs. It was only a short trip to her room to throw on her thin robe and then she was back in the bathroom again, dealing with her hair. Like always her curly mass of dark hair was a bitch to work with. She used a special cocktail of products kept on the counter in front of the mirror to tame the strands. When it dried there were large, full curls around her face with her bangs swept artfully to the side. Sherlock kept her hair down and splayed across her shoulders, not bothering to do anymore to it. Next she continued on to her clothing. She wasn't the one to be flamboyant with what she wore, but picked simple things that worked for her. For tonight however, instead of the normal form-fitting slacks she had on all the time, she put on a black pencil skirt that just reached just above her knees, putting on thin black stalkings underneath. Yet she stuck to her normal habit of wearing button down shirts. She choose the purple one, knowing it was probably the tightest one she had, and when stretched over her chest it seemed that the buttons would surely pop off. Never had she intentionally dressed to flirt or get into another person's pants, so doing this made Sherlock feel slightly uncomfortable and disconcerted. It was all she could do to not call everything off and label as foolish and a fleeting moment of insanity, which this surely was. The make-up she put on was simple just a thin line of black liner to define her eyes and a touch of red to her lips. It was clear her cheekbones stood out on their own so nothing else was added. Sherlock finished with a pair of black flats, no need in being any taller then Watson then she already was. On her way out of her room she sprayed her wrists once with watered down perfume that smelled of pomegranates. Now a mixture of cloves and pomegranates clung softly to her skin, not overpowering in anyway. Sherlock spent the rest of her time waiting for Joan on the sofa, legs crossed and hands in her lap. Other then the twiddling of her thumbs Sherlock was completely still, feeling nervous and foolish at the same time. What was she doing? Really, what in the hell was she doing? She had probably never done anything so stupid in her entire life, then why was she starting to get high off of the giddy feeling underneath it all? Sherlock didn't have the answers for any of these questions, so took the time to school her face and body language into a cool, relaxed position. She noted the time it was and knew Watson would be coming threw the door soon, so she studied the objects around the room... Feeling a horrible need for a cigarette.