A Nice Place to Start

John was spending the evening with Sherlock while Mary went shopping and had dinner with some friends. He was really enjoying married life, but both he and Mary felt that they also needed time apart to pursue their own interests and to keep up with their friends – especially before the baby came. To be honest, even if he wasn't the easiest man to get along with, John missed Sherlock and the adventures that they had together. Unfortunately, Sherlock was in a foul mood tonight - because he had not had a decent case since John had returned - or so he thought, anyway. Sherlock wouldn't explain. He just kept checking his texts and brooding because whatever he was looking for wasn't there. In fact, Sherlock had not said anything about what he had been doing during the last few weeks while John and Mary were on their honeymoon or since they had been back. Mrs. Hudson had said that he had barely left the flat. Judging by the state of the flat, John could see that it was probably true! Well, it was time for that to change!

"Let's go get something to eat!" he exclaimed in exasperation. Sherlock did not complain, just stood up and headed for the door. "What are you in the mood for?" John asked. Sherlock just shrugged, not very interested in food or conversation. "Sherlock, you are going to have to snap out of this funk. Come on, maybe we will run into something interesting." He had no idea how prophetic his words would be.

The weather was nice, so they decided to walk. Well, John did, since Sherlock was still in an apathetic state. John filled the silence with stories about his honeymoon, observations about his patients, and random thoughts about the universe – even aliens. John felt sure that they couldn't exist. That last bit actually got a snort of amusement from Sherlock. Before he could comment, however, a large, dark haired man came running out of nowhere and knocked John down to the ground. He kept running, without even glancing over to see if John was okay. Sherlock frowned after the man and noticed that something wasn't right about the way he moved, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. He shook his head and reached down to help John up. Then, he noticed that someone was in hot pursuit of the fleeing man. Sherlock saw a flash of yellow and blue run past him, his focus narrowed as he saw who it was, and he shouted, "Rose!" John gave him a puzzled look, but Sherlock was already up and running. John had no choice but to follow. He guessed that dinner was going to have to wait. While he ran, he wondered who this "Rose" person was…

As Sherlock and John rounded the corner, they found themselves in a long blind alley where they heard the sounds of a scuffle and loud grunts coming from the other end. "Rose!" Sherlock repeated and they both darted forward only to stop in amazement by what they saw before them. John saw that the young blonde woman had the unknown man pinned down on the ground with a foot on his neck. They seemed to be engaged in a heated conversation, but it was in a language that John couldn't identify. He looked over at Sherlock who just shrugged and kept his eye on the blonde. He looked like he was trying to decide whether he should interfere or not. However, just then the woman looked up, saw him, and gave a wide surprised smile. That seemed to decide him.

"Hello, Miss Tyler," he said in a surprisingly pleasant voice that caused John to glance over at him in astonishment. "Do you require any assistance?"

"Fancy meeting you here, Sherlock!" The woman, whose name was apparently Rose Tyler, replied cheekily, not even out of breath after running hard and fighting and looking very nonchalant to be standing on someone's neck. "You don't happen to have a pair of cuffs on you, do you? I seem to be out of uniform." She gestured to her clothing: the blue leather jacket again, but this time paired with a white blouse, black trousers, and black trainers.

"To my regret, I seem to have left them in my other pants. I will endeavor to do better next time," replied Sherlock calmly, but with a glint in his eye and a twist to his lips. John looked over at him again in amazement and confusion. First, he was being pleasant and now he was making jokes – after he had been in such a terrible mood all evening! What was going on with him? Who was this woman and how did he know her?

"How about your scarf then?" she asked. At his hesitant look, she added, "Oi! Come on! I will buy you another one for Christmas!"

Before he could pull it off and hand it to her, though, the man on the ground, taking advantage of Rose's distraction, reached up, grabbed her leg, and flipped her over, and moved to kick her in the head. Before either Sherlock or John could react, Rose grabbed his foot. Then, in one fluid motion, pulled herself up, and punched him in the stomach. He staggered back, and then swung at her. She sidestepped it, and then launched herself into a roundhouse kick which connected solidly with the side of his head. He fell back against the wall with a thud and slid down, passed out. The whole thing was over so quickly, that John could only stare in open mouthed shock. He looked over at Sherlock who was looking at Rose with eyes alight with what could only be admiration. Rose bent down to check on the man first and then walked over to them.

"Well," said Rose calmly, "I guess I won't be needing that scarf after all." Sherlock looked slightly ashamed when he thought that he could have saved her some trouble if he had been a bit quicker about giving it to her. Then he noticed her favoring her right hand a little as she dug out her mobile and that made him feel really guilty.

"You're hurt," he said softly, taking her hand. Both the gentle words and action caught John's attention. Before he could offer his services, however, she spoke again.

"I probably sprained it, that guy was nothing but hard muscle! I will put some ice on it when I get home." She gave Sherlock's hand a quick squeeze and then let it go. She moved a step away and said, "I do need to make a call, however." She looked him in the eye and said emphatically, "This is a special case that requires delicate handling." Sherlock nodded his understanding of what she really meant while John just looked back and forth between the two of them with confusion. "Therefore, if you'll excuse me, and keep an eye on that one (she pointed to the man on the ground), I'll be right over there for a minute." She finally looked over at John. "And then I definitely want to meet your friend." Her dazzling smile made a brief appearance and then she walked a few feet away.

"Wha…what the hell is going on, Sherlock? Who is she?" John asked when the shock wore off and he finally found his voice. "Police? Military? Special ops?"

Sherlock ignored him and they both walked over to the prone man. John bent down to give him a cursory examination. "Bloody hell! He is all muscle! How in the world did she take him down by herself?" he exclaimed, still amazed and quite impressed! The man was out cold, but Sherlock decided to use his scarf to tie his hands anyway – just in case. He then stood up and turned back to John who was still watching him and waiting for an answer. "I think that you should go home, John," he said seriously. "I will stay here and help Miss Tyler until her back up arrives - not that she needs it!" he added with a quick grin. "I will explain it all to you tomorrow."

"Hell no, Sherlock! I know how you are and I will stay here as long as it takes!" replied John tersely looking Sherlock directly in the eyes.

"No, I'm not. Sherlock is here," they both heard Rose say into her phone - which distracted them from their tense conversation. "No, it wasn't planned," she continued, "and there is another friend here, as well….No, I don't know yet…just bring me a kit and I will handle it myself, if necessary. I'm on foot and in street clothes right now and I don't have anything with me." She ended the conversation after giving the directions to the alley where they were located and walked back to the two men waiting for her. She favored them both with a huge smile and offered her hand to John. He noticed both how pretty she was and how firm her grip was, too!

"You're John Watson and I am very pleased to meet you!" she exclaimed with genuine delight. "As I told Sherlock when we met, I love your blog and I think that you are an amazing writer. I would love to speak with you further." Then her voice became more serious and professional. "However, I know that you probably have a lot of questions, and up to this point, we are in the clear. You haven't actually seen anything that you shouldn't have. Unfortunately, I am afraid that most of it from now on will be classified. Being a military man yourself, I am sure that you understand that. Therefore, you can't hang around for this." John looked like he wanted to argue, but she continued. "However, I haven't had dinner yet and after all that exercise, I am starving. Would you be willing to pick up some takeout and Sherlock and I can join you back at his flat later? Then I will tell you what I can and answer some of those questions that are buzzing around in your brain right now."

"Why does Sherlock get to stay?" John asked almost petulantly – and hated himself for it.

"Because I might need him," she said simply and shrugged, "and he has the necessary clearance for this." John looked over at his friend who was looking at Rose seriously, but seeming quite pleased with this turn of events. "Please, John!" she added, looking suddenly exhausted, and he realized that he couldn't turn her down.

He agreed to meet them at the Baker Street flat in an hour. As he prepared to leave, he was surprised to find himself receiving a quick grateful hug from her, but not as surprised as he was to see the flash of jealousy in Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock was jealous? Of Rose and him? For a hug? Why? What was Rose to him? This was such a strange turn of events because Sherlock usually seemed so devoid of the baser emotions. He didn't seem to feel things like jealousy because he normally didn't have anything to feel jealous about. Had all of that changed in the last few weeks? How long had he known Rose? He shook his head and just didn't know what to think. He started back down to the entrance of the alley, turning around just once to see Sherlock take Rose's injured hand and examine it gently while the two of them had their heads bent close in conversation. It seemed to be an almost intimate moment. Intimate and Sherlock were not usually words that he would use together. Now John was almost glad to have an hour to get his thoughts organized. He wanted to think about all that he had seen and be able to ask the right questions when he got the chance.

He had just cleared the alley, when a black nondescript Range Rover pulled up to it and backed in (blocking the entrance). Then two men, in black military style clothes, climbed out. He didn't stick around to see what happened. He knew that this was probably the back up that Rose called for. Even if it wasn't, though, he knew that Sherlock, and especially Rose, could take care of themselves!

As soon as John left, Rose looked at Sherlock uncertainly, almost shyly, and bent closer to him. "I am happy to see you, Sherlock, but it's been over a week now. You should have called me – or at least texted me."

"I know," he said quietly, while taking her hand again to examine it for injuries, "but I didn't know what to say."

"Hello is always a nice place to start," she said softly with a smile, placing her other hand on his arm.

"Hello," he said -just to make her smile. However, he knew that it wasn't enough. "I've missed you," he admitted, not quite meeting her eyes. "I may have even thrown a few things."

"I may have, too." Rose admitted and he looked up to see her eyes sparkling – at him! He smiled.

Just then a black Range Rover drove up to the alley and two men got out and joined them. One was the Scot, Jamie, whom Sherlock remembered from the morgue. However, he didn't know who the blond man was.

"Jake," Rose shouted in surprise and ran up to the man in question. He caught her up in a hug and swung her around. "When did you get back from Cardiff?" she asked him happily when he put her down again.

"Just today! I had barely made it to HQ before Jamie here received an emergency call from one Miss Tyler. Since it had been awhile, I couldn't resist rescuing that particular damsel in distress again!" he said fondly with his arm still around her waist. Sherlock watched the interaction thoughtfully, realizing that they were probably just friends since Jake seemed to be gay, but still thinking seriously about going over there to remove that arm for him.

"Distress? Hardly!" sputtered Rose, pretending to be indignant, but still smiling. "I just happened to catch the very large bad guy - on foot - without my work kit and, therefore, required a bit of assistance with transport! Anyway, come meet Sherlock! You, too, Jamie – since you didn't officially meet him last time – mainly since you didn't think he would get to remember it!" She laughed and introduced her colleagues to the detective who shook their hands and nodded, but didn't say anything.

"The strong and silent type, then?" asked Jake appreciatively. Rose just laughed, bumped his shoulder with her own, and told him to behave!

Since John had left, and there were no other witnesses, the clean up went quickly. Rose then explained the situation to Sherlock and the two Torchwood agents. The man whom she had subdued turned out to be a humanoid Slathling and was basically an interstellar drug dealer. Unfortunately, the wares he peddled were fatal to humans, and several bodies had already been left in his wake. Rose had just happened to see him completing a transaction when she noticed his unusual heavy gait – due to the higher gravity on his native planet (Sherlock thought that must be what he had noticed, too – even though he didn't recognize it at the time.) and thereby identifying him as the Slathling for whom Torchwood had been on the lookout. Anyway, the Slathling was just starting to come around when they loaded him into the Range Rover, so they secured him in a more appropriate manner, and Jake smirked as he handed the scarf back to Sherlock. Jamie and Jake were going to take him back to HQ, process him, and put him in a cell. Rose, of course, would deal with the paperwork in the morning, and contact the Slath ambassador to arrange for extradition. Rose explained to Sherlock that Torchwood always tried to let the native governments deal with their own, whenever possible, in order to avoid cultural complications and prevent interstellar conflicts. Rose then said good night to her colleagues and declined the offer of a ride, telling them that Sherlock lived nearby and that they were going to have dinner. The two Torchwood men exchanged a glance at that, but didn't ask, and she didn't explain.

John had picked up fish and chips from the place around the corner and stopped at the store for some fizzy drinks since he knew that Sherlock probably didn't have anything (with the exception of some possible body parts) in his fridge. As he returned to the Baker Street flat, he was greeted by Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh! Hello, John, dear. Where is Sherlock?" she asked. "Didn't you two leave together?"

"He'll be back in a few minutes. He had something to do with a …. friend." He paused thoughtfully before continuing, "Mrs. Hudson, have you ever met a Rose Tyler? Do you know who she is?"

"Rose Tyler?" Mrs. Hudson asked contemplatively. "Rose Tyler…hmm… Do you mean the daughter of Pete Tyler - the Vitex health drink man? I remember that there was a big to do about her in the papers when she came back to London a few years ago."

John thought about the pretty, but kickass, woman that he had just met in a back alley and of whom Sherlock seemed so uncharacteristically fond. "Wait a minute!" he almost shouted. "Are you telling me that Rose Tyler is the Vitex Heiress?" He shook his head. He barely remembered the media explosion that surrounded the girl since it had occurred several years ago - especially since she seemed to have left the limelight almost as quickly as she had entered it. He shook his head, though. How many more surprises could one evening hold? He should have known that anything (or anybody!) that Sherlock was involved with would never be simple!

"Is she a client?" Ms. Hudson asked him and John just shrugged. He honestly didn't know what she was! Ms. Hudson just reminded him to make sure that he locked up when he left since she was going to bed. He gave her a goodnight kiss on the cheek and then made his way up to the flat.

Rose and Sherlock walked quickly back to Baker Street because they knew that John was waiting for them with dinner. However, they were walking hand-in-hand. Sherlock was glad that things seemed to be okay between them now. He had been uneasy? worried? afraid? that he had messed up by not calling her when he was supposed to, but here she was, anyway. He didn't exactly know what to do about it, but they had to deal with John first, regardless. Along the way, they had decided that they would only tell him the basics of what had happened without bringing up the topic of aliens at all – for now, anyway. Sherlock knew that John was completely honest and reliable, but he also knew that Rose would like to know him better before trusting him with her secrets. He felt a surge of pride that she had decided that he was trustworthy the very same night that they had met - instead of just wiping his memories to be on the safe side – and he squeezed her hand causing her to look up at him and smile. His heart jumped a little at the sight.

John had cleared off the coffee table, so that he could have a place to set the food down (after completely ruling out the disaster otherwise known as the kitchen table) and wondered if he should try and clean up the rest of the room a bit, as well. However, he decided against it since he didn't live there anymore. He wondered what Rose would think of the chaos, but he just shrugged at that thought. It had been almost exactly an hour after he left them in the alley, and he had just sat down in his old chair and left Mary a message that he would be late, when John heard their footsteps on the stairs. He turned around when the door opened and John watched, a bit stunned, as the two of them walked in - still holding hands!

While he was staring at their clasped hands, he noticed that Rose's right hand (the one that Sherlock was not holding) was swollen and much larger than it should be. The doctor in him took over and he knew that it needed to be treated immediately. He jumped up and told Sherlock, "Go get a bag of ice out of the freezer." When Sherlock looked at him questioningly, he just pointed to Rose's hand. A look of dismay and concern crossed over Sherlock's face and Rose rushed to let him know that it wasn't that bad. She had certainly had worse! John didn't like the sound of that one bit, but he had seen how hard she could fight, so he didn't doubt that she had experienced injuries before. However, her hand still had to hurt. He helped her take her jacket off and then gestured for her to sit down on the sofa. As he examined her hand, he noticed that, while she did make a cursory glance around the room, she didn't seem amazed or disgusted at the mess, comment on the bullet holes, stare at the skull on the mantle, or do anything that a first time visitor probably would. "You've been here before," he said – not really surprised. She just nodded – letting her guard down and feeling her exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her now that she had finally sat down. It had been a long day and her adrenaline from the fight had long since worn off. Sherlock brought the ice pack and John told them both that he was pretty sure that it was just a sprain, so they would ice it first and then he would wrap it for her later. He elevated her hand on the sofa arm and placed the ice pack over it. She thanked him and gave him a brilliant smile which he couldn't help but to return. Then, they all sat down to eat. Sherlock joined Rose on the sofa (which earned him a smile, as well) and John sat on the opposite side in the adjacent chair.

There was a bit of an awkward silence at first, but then Rose broke the silence. "Sherlock tells me that you just got married a few weeks ago, John."

"Oh yes, but did he tell you that he planned the wedding?"

"What? No!" Rose turned to look at Sherlock in amazement. When he just shrugged, but didn't say anything, she patted his knee. "I knew that you were a man of many talents," she said honestly. They looked at each other and smiled.

That broke the ice. Rose and John then continued to make small talk while they ate and Sherlock just sat back and observed them. He really wanted for them to get along. John was his best friend and Rose was becoming…important…to him. He could tell that John was very curious about her and that Rose was nervous about the explanation that she would have to make to him. Therefore, he didn't really mind when they talked about him or when they realized that they had both met him for the first time at the morgue. "That explains so much!" Rose shrieked with laughter while John guffawed!

Then, John asked her if she was really the Vitex heiress. She looked embarrassed at the question and mumbled "Not if I can help it!" Then she looked nervously over at Sherlock, who didn't seem to be surprised by the information. "You knew?" she asked him softly. He nodded. "But you didn't say anything?"

"You didn't mention it, so it didn't seem to be important to you. Therefore, it didn't need to be important to me," he replied, shrugging again. She gave him a desperately grateful look and patted his knee again. John watched them carefully, since he was still trying to figure them out. It was clear that Sherlock was more interested in this woman than John had originally thought. There was something more than just fascination there. In fact, he was so interested that he was making a point not to upset or embarrass her. He was trying to consider her feelings! He had never known Sherlock to do that for anyone – ever!

They continued to talk, mainly about John, since they both knew that Rose's turn for explanations was coming. He wasn't really surprised when she mentioned that Sherlock hadn't told her much about him. She asked him about Mary and congratulated him when he mentioned that they were already expecting their first baby. She asked about their honeymoon and he told her about island hopping in the Caribbean. She asked about his work and he told her about the clinic.

By then, they had all finished eating. John checked her hand again and decided that it still needed to be iced for a little longer. Therefore, Sherlock refilled the ice pack again and they all settled back down. Rose regarded John thoughtfully. She liked him and she trusted Sherlock's judgment. However, she did not see any reason to tell John the full truth at this time – especially since she didn't have any proof. It was always easier to explain aliens when there was one with you. Therefore, she decided to stick with their original plan.

"Well, I guess it is my turn now," she said with a smile. Then she launched into a highly edited version of the speech that she had given to Sherlock that night in the morgue. Basically, she told him that she worked for Torchwood, a highly classified organization, whose main goal was to protect the country (instead of the Earth) and to promote peace with their international (instead of interstellar) neighbors. She explained that she had been off duty tonight when she had recognized that man as an international drug dealer on her organization's Wanted list and had taken the necessary steps to apprehend him before he and Sherlock had shown up.

John nodded thoughtfully. That did explain a lot. "How does Sherlock fit into all this?" he asked.

Rose thought for a moment. "He is a…"

"Consultant," Sherlock finished for her and they looked at each other and smiled, both remembering his outrage at that thought during their conversation at the morgue.

John felt the final pieces of the mystery click together and thought that it all now made perfect sense. "That's how you know each other, then. You work together on cases."

"Not really," Rose said, and to both John's and Sherlock's surprise, she reached over and grabbed Sherlock's hand with her free one and looked him in the eye. "I just find him fascinating!"

"Um…well…" John just gaped, at the statement, the action, and at the beaming smile on Sherlock's face at those words. John then realized that he had never seen his friend smile so much at one time as he had on this night. He thought that it was a good look for him and he now knew the reason for it. All of this certainly went a long way towards explaining the jealous looks and the hand holding that had confused him earlier. He just didn't know what to say, though. He was still in a bit of shock from the events of the whole evening. Then his phone beeped with a message:

Did you and Sherlock decide to have a sleepover OR did you two get in trouble somewhere?
-Your loving, but irritated, wife

Just finishing up here and will be home soon!
- Your adoring husband who is very sorry that he didn't know what time it was, but just wait until you hear what I have to tell you about Sherlock!

He went to apologize, but Rose smiled gently and said, "Your wife is wondering where you are at, isn't she?" John nodded and Rose continued, "I don't blame her. I can't believe that it is so late. Time flies when you are having fun, yeah? I need to be leaving soon myself." A loud yawn punctuated the end of this sentence and Rose clasped her hand over her mouth in dismay. John laughed, but Sherlock just looked thoughtful.

"Well, let me wrap the hand for you before we go," John said to Rose. "As your current doctor," Rose giggled at that, "I must insist that you go to bed soon and get plenty of rest. You have had a very exhausting night."

"Don't worry about it, John." Sherlock jumped in. "I will wrap it for her. You know that I know how to do it. You need to get back to Mary and your newlywed bliss."

"Rose?" John asked uncertainly.

Rose nodded, "That's fine, John. I'm sure that Sherlock knows what he is doing. Plus, I don't want Mary to get upset with you. I had fun tonight and would like to do it again. Maybe Mary can join us next time. I would love to meet her." Sherlock looked at her with an undecipherable look and John seemed amused by the thought of basically double dating with Sherlock.

"It's a date, then." John said, mainly to tease his former flat mate with the word "date," but was surprised to see him nod instead – as if he was agreeing to the whole scheme – and that he wasn't terribly upset with the thought. He told them both goodnight and received a kiss on the cheek from Rose and another unhappy look from Sherlock. This time it just made him chuckle. Sherlock really was jealous!

John had a hard time catching a cab because of the late hour. When one finally stopped, and he was almost home, he thought that he should have offered to share the cab with Rose because she probably had a hard time finding one, too. It was too late now, though, so maybe next time, he thought. He let himself into the house and found that his wife had already gone to bed – not really surprising due to the lateness of the hour. He thought that she was asleep, but when he slid into the bed beside her, she spoke, "So…what was the amazing thing that you had to tell me about Sherlock?" she asked sleepily.

"Well, the main thing is that he has a girlfriend! He just doesn't realize it, yet!" John replied grinning.

"What?"exclaimed Mary. John proceeded to tell her everything he knew about Rose. "Oh, yes! I will definitely have to meet the woman who is crazy enough to get Sherlock interested in her!" she said when John mentioned the idea of a "double date."

Back at the Baker Street flat, Sherlock returned from fetching the bandages to find that Rose had fallen asleep on the sofa. He could tell how tired she was when she had been talking to John and he knew how much she needed to sleep to recover from her exertion. Therefore, he silently debated with himself whether to wake her up and send her home, help her to get more comfortable on the couch, or (part of him stirred at the thought) carry her to his bed so she could sleep comfortably. He had to wrap her hand first no matter what, though, so he sat down next to her and gently held the injured hand in one of his own while he wrapped it tightly with the other one. When he had finished, he looked up to see warm brown eyes smiling at him.

"Thank you!" she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "I guess I should go now. Even though it will be Saturday, I still have to go in to work tomorrow and handle this Slathling mess. Sorry, I fell asleep, but it's been a really long day! "

"No!" Sherlock replied simply.

"Excuse me?" Rose was a bit confused about what he was denying.

"No, you shouldn't go home. It's late, you will never catch a cab at this hour, and it's too far to walk when you are this tired. Therefore, you should just stay here – on the sofa if you wish, or even in John's old room up the stairs. Better yet, stay in my room tonight, it's right down the hall, and I will go stay in the one upstairs. That way you will be next to the loo and won't have to climb up and down the stairs with your sprained hand."

"That's really thoughtful, Sherlock, but I still have to go in to work tomorrow."

"So? You can always just leave early and go back to your flat in the morning – if you need to. However, I suspect that you also keep a set of field clothes at work for emergencies. That way you could just change, there, too. I bet you have a lot of field agents coming and going on Saturdays, so it wouldn't look out of place."

"You are a genius!" she exclaimed.

"Was there any doubt?" he mumbled.

She just laughed and leaned forward, placed her wrapped hand on his cheek, and kissed him again – this time on the lips. She kept it simple- just wanting to show him how she felt without scaring him. Therefore, she was surprised (and she could "feel" his, too!) when he leaned in and deepened the kiss! They broke apart after just a minute, and rested their foreheads against each other. They both smiled as Rose yawned again, and then broke out in laughter as Sherlock actually followed that with a yawn of his own.

"I guess that is our sign that it is time to go bed," said Sherlock a bit regretfully while standing up and offering Rose his arm.

"Yes, unfortunately, I do have to go to work in just a few hours." She said, taking his arm and letting him lead her past the kitchen, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He seemed a little nervous. She took a look around, and was actually quite impressed. Compared to the rest of the flat, the bedroom was quite tidy. It was also fashionable with subdued wallpaper, dark wood furniture, and …was that a poster of the periodic table on the wall? He was such a nerd! "I love it!" she said aloud.

"Good!" he exclaimed – relieved – but he didn't really know why. He was just glad that she liked it. He walked over to the dresser and retrieved a plain white t-shirt. "Here, you can sleep in this, if you want. The loo is right next door. Let me stop in there for a minute and then it is all yours." He then left the room quickly so that they could both get ready.

Rose checked the alarm on her phone. The battery was getting a little low, but it had enough power to make it until she could charge it at the office tomorrow. Then she set down on the bed to remove her socks and shoes. She could hear Sherlock moving around (and brushing his teeth?) in the adjacent bathroom. She smiled at the sound of Sherlock doing something so ordinary as hygiene. She pulled down her trousers and and took off her shirt. She stood there in just her bra and panties for just a moment and wondered what would happen if Sherlock walked in right now. She imagined his reaction and shivered with delight at the thought, but realized that it wasn't a good idea at this time – for so many reasons! She sighed with regret, pulled off her bra and slipped on the t-shirt. It barely covered her thighs, but it was soft and comfortable and would be perfect to sleep in. A light knock at the door and a soft "Rose?" let her know that he was finished. She opened the door, but was still surprised at his reaction to seeing her standing there in nothing but his t-shirt, knickers, and a smile (even though she had just been imagining it a moment before!) His eyes flashed dark, he growled, and then pressed her against the wall as he kissed her as if his life depended on it. It was deep and passionate, and she could "feel" his need, but she barely had time to respond (even though her body wanted to!) before he abruptly let her go, mumbled "Good night!" and stalked off down the hallway and through the kitchen.

He stopped in the lounge, just out of her sight, and berated himself for losing control. That wasn't like him at all. However, when he saw her standing there in just his shirt, without a bra, and her long legs bare, he just couldn't seem to help himself. In fact, it was amazing that he had been able to stop! She didn't seem to mind, but what would she think of him? He then heard a very quiet, but unmistakable, "Wow!" from the hallway right before the bathroom door shut. He smiled, still tasting her on his lips, and went upstairs. There he stripped down to his underpants and crawled in bed. He fell asleep to thoughts of her.

Rose's alarm on her mobile went off way too early the next morning. She had not had nearly enough sleep. After she crawled into Sherlock's very comfortable bed last night, she should have fallen asleep immediately, but her thoughts were too full of him. That unexpected kiss had been amazing! Then, when she went into the loo, she noticed that he had laid out a clean towel, flannel, and even a new toothbrush for her. She didn't even know that he could be so thoughtful. Then after all of that, she found herself in his bed with sheets that smelled of him. With that thought, she finally felt relaxed enough to fall asleep - still thinking of him.

Now, though, it was time to get up. She went to the loo, brushed her teeth and unwrapped her hand. It looked much better, but it was still quite sore. She would get somebody at the HQ today to rewrap it for her (since all Torchwood employees were required to know First Aid). She then took a quick shower – using his shampoo and soap. Fortunately, they both had a pleasant, but neutral scent. She couldn't find a hair dryer so she would just let her hair dry naturally and pull it up in a bun when she got to work. She kept hair supplies, as well as a makeup kit, in her office anyway. She never knew when she would need to freshen up at work after a visit to the field or after some gym time. Then, wrapped in nothing but the towel, she went back to the bedroom to get dressed. Since she was probably going to be in her professional office today, she probably needed to wear something else other than her field uniform. Her black trousers and black trainers would be fine, but she would need another top. She looked over at Sherlock's wardrobe and smiled. After finding a burgundy button-up that was a bit more fitted than the rest of them, tucking it in, and dressing it up the scarf that she knew was in her desk drawer at work, she should be presentable. Fortunately, it was Saturday, so there wouldn't be a lot of people in the office anyway – just a few unfortunates like herself with reports to file. She then went in the lounge, took a piece of paper out of his printer and a pen off of his desk and wrote a note for him. She could have just left him a text, but this was more fun!

Thanks for last night.
You were very thoughtful.
(The kiss wasn't bad, either!)

I borrowed a shirt. Hope you don't mind.
(Too late if you do! Ha!Ha!)

Remember, it is still your turn to call or text me, first!
(Incentive: I still owe you a meal- your choice!)

Looking forward to it!

- Rose :)

She fixed the bed; leaving the note, and the folded t-shirt that she had slept in, on the pillow. She walked back into the bathroom to hang up her wet towel, took a look around to make sure she had not missed anything, and walked back through to the lounge. She grabbed her jacket, shrugged it on, and was ready to leave. As she walked out the door, she looked up the stairs to the next landing where Sherlock was apparently still sleeping – and was a bit surprised to have to fight off the urge to go up there and crawl into bed with him! She shook her head and walked down the stairs and out the front door.

Sherlock had left the bedroom door cracked open last night – just in case - so he heard the flat door open and close, and noticed when she paused at the top of the stairs, (thinking about him?), before continuing down the stairs and out the door. He hesitated for just a moment, then he jumped out of the bed, hurriedly fixed it, and went back to his own room – stopping at the loo first. He noticed that she had taken a shower and he felt a little frisson of excitement run through him as he pictured it. He then went into his room, saw the note and smiled again. He was glad that she wasn't embarrassed or upset by the kiss, and smiled at the thought that somewhere in the city today, Rose Tyler was not only smelling like his shampoo and soap, but wearing his shirt as well! Talk about making his mark! He found himself yawning again, so he pulled back the covers on his bed, and jumped in. There, surrounded by the scent of Rose, he drifted back to sleep.

Rose made it all the way to her personal office in the Inter-Species Relations department without being caught. She really wanted to finish her hair, makeup, and outfit before anyone saw her. Coming in this early and looking like she hadn't been home would definitely lead to rumors. She normally wouldn't care, but she really didn't want something like that getting back to Pete – and then her mum! She shuddered at the thought of her mother demanding details of her sexual escapades. Ugh!

Her hand was on the knob turning it when she heard the voice of her brash redheaded assistant/best friend, Donna. "Rose Marion Tyler, what have you been up to - trying to sneak in early with wet hair, no makeup, and wearing a man's shirt? Spill!"

"What are you doing here, Donna?" she sighed. "It's Saturday."

"Lee wanted to finish up some project and then we are going to lunch, so I just decided to come in with him! Now tell me where you were last night!" Donna squealed, picturing all sort of sordid scenarios.

"Not what you think," Rose muttered tiredly. "Let's go in my office, so that I can finish getting ready before someone else catches me." While Rose did her hair and make-up, and draped her scarf artistically around her neck to hide the mannish collar of the shirt, she told Donna the whole story, starting with the night at the morgue with Molly, to the chippie lunch, to last night's Slathling adventure, to waking up this morning and stealing his shirt.

"That's why you have been mooning about the place for weeks? Why didn't you tell me about him? Why didn't Molly?" Donna demanded.

"I told her not to mention him to anyone. It's because he is so much like the Doctor," sighed Rose regretfully. "If nothing ever happened, then I didn't want to look like I was making a fool of myself over him – like I did back then." Donna patted her arm comfortingly and then started rewrapping her hand for her. "That kiss, though…I know he wants me, but …" Rose couldn't finish that thought, so Donna finished it for her with her usual bluntness.

"But you don't know if he wants more than shagging – right? Well, would that be such a bad thing? It's been a really long time for you, Rose. Maybe some no-strings-attached stuff is really what you need."

"Not with him, Donna." Rose said shaking her head. "I think, no, I know that the physical stuff would be great with him - that kiss last night proved that. However, I already think it would hurt too much if he couldn't give more than that. That's why I am trying to take things slowly until he can…hopefully… I can't even get him to text me, though!" She sighed again.

Just then her phone beeped with a message. Rose pulled it out expecting it to be her mother demanding that she come to Sunday dinner tomorrow, but instead her heart leapt at the one word she saw there…

Hello!
-SH

Sherlock had slept well in his bed for a couple more hours, surrounded by Rose's scent. He rarely dreamed - and if he did, then he usually forgot them immediately upon awakening. However, he remembered having very vivid dreams of her both last night and this morning. Not only the physical kind that he thought would have followed last night's kiss (even though there was some of that, too!), but also an affectionate dream full of smiles and holding hands, even a companionable dream of working together, solving crimes, and chasing down the bad guys. To his astonishment, it truly seemed as if he wanted the whole package with her. However, how did he go about getting it? It wasn't as if he had ever done anything like this before. He thought he knew the way to begin, though. He grabbed his phone and sent a one word text. As Rose had said, it was a nice place to start!