A/N: For those who enjoyed the Sherlock and the Baby/Child/Teenager series, this is just a collection of one-shots about Raven, Drew and the rest of the family :3

He hadn't remembered being the same height as her, but then, time could alter memories. Yet, here they stood, face to face with his eyes finally being level to hers.

This whole routine, one of them being away for months on end wasn't new. Growing up, it'd always been Raven off at boarding school, only coming back for Christmas and the summers. Then she was at university. Then he was at university.

Now, she was here, picking up him. Drew was rather surprised her Uncle hadn't just sent a car.

He felt like a schoolboy again. He'd always loved her. Now at 28, she was just as lovely as ever; pale skin (and a few freckles), ruby lips, dark curls. Being four years younger, he'd never been bothered by the age difference, but he didn't know how she felt. She was the beautiful, unattainable Raven Cecelia Holmes, and he was Drew Watson, and that was just how things were, he supposed.

"Doctor Andrew Watson?" She asked, her voice professional and somewhat cold. The distance between them was hardly professional; if she were to blink, he was sure he'd feel it.

"Yes. Suppose I am," he answered. Doctor. He was a doctor now.

"Good." Before he could register what was happening, Raven had taken his face in her hands and had closed the distance between them with a deep kiss.

"Right, Uncle Mycroft's car is this way," She stated as though nothing had happened once they'd pulled apart. She turned as started walking to the door, her heels clacking against the tiled floor, leaving Drew breathless behind her.

"Raven," he called, and she looked over her shoulder. "What was that?"

"Something we've both wanted to do for a long time. I figured you're finally old enough that people won't judge me."

"A long time?"

"Well you've wanted to since you were thirteen or fourteen, so yes, I'd say it has been a long time for you."

"You—you knew?"

"Everyone knew. You were kind of obvious."

"Oh God."

"Look, it doesn't matter. It was always going to be me and you in the end, wasn't it? Now come on, Uncle doesn't care how long the car's out, but this driver does," she informed him, walking out the doors.

"I suppose it was," he agreed to himself, and grabbed his suitcase to follow after her.