If you haven't already, I urge you to read my Laws of Familiarity story as this series of one-shots and ficlets takes place after the events of that fic. Just to give you a brief blurb- Rebecca Francis is Sherlock's lawyer, she has worked for the detective for almost five years. Her house was destroyed in an explosion that almost claimed her, and her little dog Toby's lives. She was invited to stay with Sherlock and John in 221b and has been residing there ever since. She has had run-ins with the evil Moriarty and Irene Adler and it was only through this did Sherlock realise his true feelings for her.

Still, I urge you to read that fic before this one.

Again, this will be more a series of one-shots than a running story. I hope you all enjoy.

The first time Rebecca told Sherlock she loved him.

Rebecca stood by the window, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering against the imaginary breeze that passed through the room.

Biting her lip, she glanced quickly at her watch.

It had been hours ago that Sherlock had shuffled off, trying to convince her that he was going to Barts. But Rebecca knew better.

Even just a few weeks living with the detective had taught her something.

The first thing she had done once the dark-haired fiend had pecked her lightly on the cheek and swept from the room, was to check his blog.

He had gone to the pool with the Bruce-Partington plans.

At first Rebecca had dabbled with the idea of going after him, but thought better of it. She had had enough dealings with Moriarty...plus Sherlock knew what he was doing.

She knew he had double-bolted the flat before his leaving and the fact that he cared and worried about her made her heart flutter.

And yet she couldn't help but have her doubts.

Doubts that Sherlock would come back alive.

Holding back the urge to bite her nails, Rebecca shifted the yellowing net curtains to look out onto the lamp lit street.

It was almost 3.30 when she finally heard the front door slam and footsteps run up the wooden staircase.

She got to her feet only to find Sherlock and John walk into the room both sopping wet.

"What the hell happened?" she cried marching towards them, her face forming into a frown. "Where have you been?"

Sherlock smirked, glancing at his doctor friend. "John and I decided to go for a late night swim," he chuckled.

But Rebecca was in no mood for his jokes, and with that she stormed towards him, her hand colliding with his chest.

"Don't even start Sherlock, I've been worried out of my mind," she cried angrily. "Where were you? And why are you so wet?"

John gave a weary sigh and removed his wet jacket. "We had a bit of a run in with Mr Moriarty."

Rebecca scowled at Sherlock. "I gathered that by your last blog post," she said snidely, giving the detective another angry shove.

"It was necessary," uttered Sherlock calmly.

"Necessary?" said Rebecca loudly, as John raised his eyebrows and made his way to the quiet of his bedroom.

Sherlock glanced at her darkly.

"How the hell are dealings with Moriarty ever necessary?" she asked, her eyes glistening worriedly.

Sherlock looked at her sympathetically, as she gave him yet another shove.

"Gosh, sometimes Sherlock, you get me so angry," she said with a frown. "I was worried about you..."

"There was no need to be," he said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Yes there was," she said loudly. "I love you...I was concerned..."

Sherlock gave her a sudden look, as Rebecca paled, stepping back embarrassedly.

"Well what I mean was..." she mumbled, but her eyes caught sight of the smirk that had appeared on Sherlock's face. "Oh shut up..." she said glaring at him accusingly.

Sherlock raised his hands in amused defeat. "I didn't say a word."

"No but you were going to," she said angrily, pointing a finger at him. "Ugh...I hate you sometimes."

And with that she waltzed off in the direction of the bedrooms, arms folded across herself crossly.

Sherlock smiled, following her to their sleeping quarters. "Then I guess what we have could be described as a love hate relationship," he uttered.

Rebecca turned to look at him with a scowl as he followed her into their room. "Oh shut up," she snapped flinging a towel in his direction.

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