John couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock's neck. The way she had dipped her head back to soak in the sun made John want to grab her thin body and shake it and then maybe ravish it. She wasn't quite sure of the outcome yet.

The sun had lit every part of Sherlock's body aflame, and John needed to cover her up so she wouldn't be burnt, so she could get closer to her.

John kind of wanted to sniff the crook of Sherlock's long, pale neck then and just memorize the smell of her. She wanted to stuff the scent into a jar and open it from time to time and just inhale.

What the hell was she thinking?