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Sherlock watched as if from over his own shoulder as he thrust into Sgt. Donovan repeatedly, until the act was brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

Strange, he thought, as his breathing resumed its normal pattern. He’d asked and she’d agreed, even though the only emotions he could discern on her side were suspicion and resentment, while his barely surpassed contempt.

Nothing like what he suspected was occurring on a semi-regular basis between Watson and Lestrade, but it still worked.

If anyone cared to ask his reasons for such behaviour, he would of course tell them the truth.

Just an experiment.