==Chapter 2==

Stay With Me

I want to be with you,
it is as simple,
and as complicated as that.

– Charles Bukowski

(Scene rating: S)

The shower did not continue entirely without incident. At one point, Beth felt as though her skin was crawling; no matter how hard she scrubbed, the sensation wouldn't go away, and she nearly worked herself up into a panic attack. "He won't come off, he won't come off!" But at length, they were both clean and dry and dressed in bathrobes, and Beth led Sherlock to her room.

Or rather, Sherlock led Beth to the corridor of bedrooms, and Beth took over from there, her pulse quickened, anxious and hopeful all at once. She opened her door and exhaled slowly: she hadn't been inside the room in almost a year and she'd used it only... Did I really only spend one night in it? Feels like forever ago. She certainly would never have dared, at the time, to dream that she'd ever bring Sherlock into it, not like this... She squeezed his hand and stepped inside.

Holmes squeezed back, smiling appreciatively as he followed her in. Beth's room looked the same as when he'd last seen it: a mixture of 21st and 19th centuries, including a four-poster bed with an elegantly carved headboard. It was a good thing she hadn't suggested using his room, he couldn't remember doing any tidying up before leaving the TARDIS for what he'd thought was the last time.

Beth smiled a bit sheepishly in return, in light of the question she was about to ask. "So… mind if I ask why, exactly?" People didn't just have... kinks like that... oh zed, it was weird to think of Sherlock Holmes having a kink, never mind what fanfic authors thrived on!

Oh God, how to explain... That ever since she first pinned you by the wrists you've been aching to explore that further? That even after being a prisoner all those months, you still want to know what it's like to put yourself under someone else's control willingly? "I, er... don't know, really..."

Beth was positive her cheeks were redder than her husband's —Sherlock wasn't strictly telling the truth, but he was embarrassed and she'd put him on the spot. "Sorry… um…" She moved over to the dresser. "I'm not sure that I have anything in here…" She didn't think she'd ever put any clothes in it, and she couldn't remember whether it had clothes in it or not. But when she opened the top drawer, she found scarves that she knew she'd never seen before in her life. She looked up at the ceiling and said, "Really?"

The TARDIS twittered cheerily back.

Good grief, a sentient ship who shipped. Beth giggled and turned back to her husband, holding up the scarves.

Wonderful, now you have to try to forget you have an audience! Still, Holmes couldn't help laughing, too, the tension suddenly draining out of him. Unless Beth changed her mind, he'd be damned if he was going to wait until they got back to Baker Street.

She climbed onto the bed, and he followed, moving to the middle. "So, um…" She tilted her head, trying not to blush again. "Mm... how exactly do you want to do this?" At least she'd known a little bit about sex before their first time, but this... she had no idea!

He took her hand with a reassuring smile and kissed it. "However you wish, my lady," he murmured, heart beating faster still at the thought of her binding him, soft silk holding him at the mercy of her every touch... "Command me..."

She shivered, flushing with pure want. Sherlock's eyes were turning dark and his voice was deep, and both were doing things to her insides. She opened her mouth, then closed it, reaching for his robe instead, undoing the sash and tugging it off. "Lie down, sweetheart," she murmured.

Thrilling at the desire in her voice, he obeyed, stretching himself out on the mattress, arms above his head. He suddenly found himself thinking of their first kiss on the lake shore, he had felt just like this then, heart almost pounding out of his chest in combined nervousness and arousal, her lips rendering him completely defenceless, the strangest yet headiest thing he'd ever known...

She took a shaky breath—the sight of her husband naked and stretched out atop a bed was incredibly arousing. She crawled forward and tied his hands loosely together, then tied the other end of the scarf to the headboard. Her voice, husky now, cracked when she spoke. "Is that all right?"

He'd watched her raptly as she bound him, smile widening at the hitch in her voice. "Yes, my love." He probably could free himself if necessary, but right now that was the very last thing he wanted to do.

That look in his eyes—burning desire coupled with the sense that she was the most important thing in the world to him—would never fail to take her breath away. "Do… um… Is that enough, or do you… ah… want to…" She blushed again.

Oh, how he loved being able to do that to her. "By all means, cherie, continue."

Still blushing, she nodded and moved down to his feet, gently tying them to separate bedposts. On an impulse, she gave the second foot a quick kiss before turning back to face him.

His toes curled at her kiss, humming in pleasure, she'd never kissed him there before. He gazed at her in adoration as she crawled back up towards him, her cheeks flushed, eyes aglow with passion.

Ohhh... he took her breath away, naked and stretched out and willingly bound and obviously aroused. She shifted on the mattress—her body had been teased viciously and then willingly aroused later and now it was tired of waiting. "You look..." She decided to never mind what she was thinking and kissed him hungrily, twining her fingers through his hair.

Scalp tingling, Holmes kissed her back with equal hunger, unthinkingly trying to reach for her; thwarted by his bound wrists, he moaned softly into her mouth in yearning and frustration.

She pulled up just enough to murmur, "Kitty, you did literally ask for this..." She stroked his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, eyes half closing. Zed, I can't believe I can do this to him... "And you do look kind of amazing..."

"Oh, Elizabeth..." he whispered shakily. Her warmth, her scent, her very nearness was maddening... "Ma chère femme... have your way with me!"

She moaned, her blood turning to fire, and sat up to discard her own robe. As she did, she was exquisitely aware of her husband's gaze, devouring her. She leaned down again and trailed her lips over his jawline, and his head tipped back, allowing her better access to his throat. I'm not even sure what to do—it's always been give-and-take before. Even when he had her tossing madly at his mercy...

She pressed her body against his as her lips moved down to his throat, kissing and sucking, and he moaned softly, trembling. Heart pounding rapidly, she began to rub herself against him and moaned loudly against his skin, pleasure jolting through her.

"Beth...!" He writhed beneath her, lost to everything but the sensation of her body melded to his, the aching need in his loins stronger with every moment.

She shivered at the sound of his voice—she could never get enough of hearing him when they were making love... Oh, zed, the feeling of him writhing beneath her was incredible... She reached his pulse point and fastened her mouth to it, sucking. Her hands moved underneath her, feeling across his chest and reaching his nipples, and she began to play with them gently, curious to see how it would affect him.

Holmes strained against his bonds, whimpering. Her soft, merciless touch on his helpless form was setting his skin on fire, he couldn't bear it, oh God, don't stop...

His whimpers tipped her over the edge: she needed him inside her right there and then. She shifted to straddle him properly, gently positioned his manhood—all the while encouraged by his moans and his hips lifting—and eagerly sank down onto it, arching as she did. He felt perfect...

Ohhh... He cried out as she took him, barely managing to hold himself still – the pace was Beth's to set, he'd never forgive himself if he hurt her.

Beth rocked forward gently, moaning in ecstasy. She set a slow rhythm to start, moving so that every time she pressed forward, he slid deeply inside her. He followed her lead, rolling his hips in time with hers, groaning her name. Stroking his cheek, she murmured, "I love you," and kissed him.

"I love you," he murmured breathlessly against her lips, kissing her back hungrily. He was quickly discovering that this position was more tiring than he'd imagined, not having his arms for leverage, but he would rather pass out from exhaustion than stop before his beloved was satisfied...


As long as her body had been aroused and denied, it didn't take Beth long to climax, and Sherlock swiftly followed. Once her hips finally stopped moving, she all but melted onto him, her body blissfully warm and heavy. She took a few moments to lie like that, recovering and stroking Sherlock's face with both hands. I adore him, so much... She leaned up to kiss his forehead and slowly, reluctantly lifted off of him—she would have preferred to stay where she was, but he needed to be freed. She moved down to untie his feet, then came back to lie beside him, untying his hands. Smiling, she wound her arms around him and whispered, "Thank you."

Holmes kissed her hair, delighting in being able to hold her again, the only ache that he couldn't satisfy at the time. "I gather you enjoyed yourself, dearest."

She hummed a yes and nuzzled him, feeling safe and sated and warm and loved.

He nuzzled back, grinning tenderly. "And for the record, my darling, if you ever desire to do that to me again, say the word. It was..." His weary mind searched for an adequate word to describe just what she'd done to him; "incredible."

She giggled softly. "I think I can... safely guarantee that we will. Because you were incredible, sweetheart... not just... while we were doing that, but..." She reached up to stroke his hair. "For giving me a way to feel safe..." She couldn't begin to describe just how relieved she felt—her need was satisfied, without ever once triggering her...

Blushing, he moved his head under her hand like a cat, humming in pleasure, which suddenly turned into a yawn. She grinned at his feline behaviour, and then yawned, too, suddenly feeling unbelievably tired. How long have I even been awake? "Zed," she groaned, "it must be so late..." It was probably already the wee hours of the morning by the time they'd left Torchwood.

"Mm..." Holmes didn't even want to know what time it was, much less when they had to get up; like Watson, he felt as if he could sleep for a week. He sat up for a moment and pulled the blankets over them both, kissed her cheek as he snuggled back down beside her, murmuring drowsily, "I love you, Beth."

She smiled at the kiss. Yes, things are all right right now, but you still might not be able to live the rest of your life with him. ...geez, shut up. Just let me have this moment. "I love you, too..."

Er, you do realise you're about to fall asleep... Mmph, yes, I was, what about it? How certain are you that if you take your eyes off Beth, she won't do something... foolish? ...Good point. "Beth... can we talk? I'm sorry, I know you must be exhausted..."

She stiffened but nodded. "It's okay... I, um... what is it?"

"Something that actually occurred to me while we were outside Goldini's..." He stroked her cheek in silent apology. "You've sacrificed so much for the two of us, dearest – for all of us, really... and it's not fair to ask you to give up anything else... or anyone else."

She leaned into his touch, blushing deeply, then bit her lip and looked down. "But that's just life, isn't it?" she said wearily. Life was crappy; that was just how it worked.

Holmes lifted her chin, shaking his head, and answered gently but firmly, "Not this time, Beth. Because choosing between me or your family... either way, the choice would break your heart... and that won't do."

She gave a small, despairing laugh and shook her head. "Well, it's going to have to." She couldn't for the life of her understand why he was talking like this when he should know better—there wasn't anything they could do about her situation.

Holmes took a deep breath. "Beth, you told me once that you couldn't leave me – and the reverse is also true." His hand trembled on her cheek, but his voice was steady as he continued, "I can't leave you, my love... and I won't. Wherever you go, I go, too."

Her eyes widened. "Sherlock..." For one wild moment, she dared to dream that she could have a future with her husband and her family in her own time. Then she shook her head; that just couldn't be possible. "...what about John?" She blinked in surprise at herself—where did that come from? I meant to say that he couldn't leave his own time because he's still needed; all those cases...

"I know, I'll be talking with him as well. He has his own family to think about, after all. But we'll still need to consult the Doctor first..." His lips twitched; "see what can be done without destroying the fabric of Reality." He gave her as reassuring a smile as he could muster. "We'll work something out, sweetheart, I promise."

She wanted to believe him, wanted to let herself hope, but she was terrified to.

"You're stuck with me, love, remember?" He kissed her softly, smile turning mischievous. "I'm not letting you off just because Time's been unfrozen."

She couldn't help smiling faintly at that—he was so sweet... "I don't want you to let me off..."

He arched an eyebrow in mock severity. "Glad to hear it. But first, my darling..." nuzzling her, "we're both rather desperately in need of sleep."

At the mention of sleep, her eyelids felt ready to collapse. "Mm... mm-hmm..."

Dear heaven, she was beautiful... He kissed the tip of her nose, murmuring, "Goodnight, love."

She smiled sleepily—she loved him so much... "Goodnight, sweetheart..."


Holmes woke slowly, feeling warmer and more comfortable in doing so than he had in months. The sight of his wife beside him, still deep in blessedly peaceful slumber, made him smile, then sigh – he'd like nothing more than to stay, just holding her and watching her sleep. He kissed her cheek, then carefully, reluctantly slid from her hold and out of bed. On a hunch, he checked the wardrobe, and was amused to find that the TARDIS had moved all of his clothes into this room. He smiled in thanks at the ceiling, quietly dressed and slipped out, making his way to the control room.

The Doctor was beneath the floor by the control console, giving the TARDIS some badly needed maintenance. The poor thing'd had a rough past few months... When he heard footsteps enter the room, he called out, "Morning!"—grateful for the arrival of company.

"Good morning, Doctor." Holmes squatted at the edge of the hatch, noting with some concern the Time Lord's disheveled appearance. "Please tell me you haven't been up all this time working."

The Time Lord smiled sheepishly. "Not exactly." He knew, of course, that Holmes was really asking if he'd slept at all—which, of course, he hadn't. "Did you two sleep well?"

Holmes nodded. "I gather we're still in the Vortex." No sign of Watson and Nikola, they must still be abed.

The Doctor nodded back, then returned his attention to the power coupling he was working with. "Few enough hours until dawn from when we left Torchwood—you lot had to get a decently long sleep."

"Thank you, yes." That solid, undisturbed rest had Holmes feeling like a new man. Speaking of which... The detective opened his mouth, then closed it again. He couldn't think how to even begin, he and the Doctor had so much to talk about...

The Doctor's smile faded to solemnity—if they had to have talks now, there was one thing he had to get out of the way right away. "Sherlock…" He hesitated, then sighed. "You know how Nikola and I brought Moriarty's body aboard? I'm not sure when or where just yet, but I need to burn it. It's a Time Lord thing—Time Lord bodies are cremated, and with good reason, too. I'm not saying that you have to come with me when I do it, but I thought you should know."

Holmes stared at the floor as he listened, brow furrowed. He didn't want to attend, it wasn't as if he owed Moriarty anything now, if he ever had... but somehow... he still couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he ought to. He looked up at the Doctor and nodded mutely, before he could change his mind.

The Doctor grimaced—poor Sherlock, he did understand... "Sherlock, you don't have to."

"I know..." But if you don't... As much as he hated the idea, the thought of no one but the Doctor being at Moriarty's... funeral (what other word was there?) seemed even more... wrong... "If I may make a suggestion?" When the Doctor raised his eyebrows invitingly, he went on, "Rannoch Moor, the Torchwood estate."

The Doctor nodded slowly, considering. "It'd have to be a bit of a ways away from the house—" which, he understood, was still a base of operations for the Institute—"but, yes, I think that'd do."

"As to when... well, the others all seem to still be asleep at the moment." Holmes couldn't imagine that any of them would be eager to attend.

The Doctor looked at him in surprise—he hadn't thought the detective would be up for that. "Right now? Blimey…" He sighed again. "Still, s'ppose you're right, though." He climbed back up out of the ship's bowels and stroked the console affectionately. "Sure about this?"

The detective's lips twitched. "Not really." He wasn't about to back out now, though. Besides, it was clear that the Doctor could use the company.

The Doctor flashed him a small, fond smile—he had really missed Sherlock Holmes. "All right, then." He threw down the lever. "Allons-y."


They stopped first at a sawmill to pick up enough wood to build the pyre—it would have been all but impossible to gather wood on a moor. A mere few seconds, then, after Moriarty had died in London, the TARDIS shuddered into Scotland, and the Doctor straightened from the console. "Okay... I'm just going to get the stasis capsule. Be right back."

Holmes headed down the ramp and opened the door. After months of fog and muted sunlight, it was something of a shock to discover a clear night sky above the moor, ablaze with stars. He felt his eyes growing suddenly moist... It had been so long...

The Doctor came up behind him, pushing the capsule, but stopped and moved up to stand beside the detective in the doorway. He took a shaky breath—he hadn't realised how much he'd missed the stars until he saw them. "Oh," he breathed, "that's lovely..."

Was this the only view he and Beth would ever have of the universe from now on...? Holmes shook his head, returning to reality, waiting a few more moments before clearing his throat respectfully. "I hate to interrupt, Doctor, but we do have things to do." The funeral pyre wouldn't build itself…

"Right, sorry." Jolted from his own reverie, the Doctor went back to work.


After a good solid hour of labour, the pyre was ready, and the Doctor and Holmes set the Professor's body on top of it. The Doctor made a torch, lit it, and set fire to the pyre. He felt as though he should be saying something right now, but a Gallifreyan eulogy hardly seemed appropriate, so he simply stepped back and watched the flames.

Holmes stood by the TARDIS, leaning back against her – her solidness at his back was a welcome thing just now. Despite his recent exertion and the heat of the rising flames, he felt strangely cold, a hollow ache in his chest as he watched the fire engulf Moriarty's corpse.

The Doctor moved back to stand beside Holmes, looked at him, and decided to say something. "I've done some searching," he murmured, "some Time Lord-type searching, tonight. Through timelines. Yours, Beth's... his." He nodded at the pyre. "How much do you know about his past?" Because what the Doctor had discovered had broken his heart...

Holmes's lips twitched. Which one? "Before which date?" Shrugging wearily, "Little more than I told Watson, back in '91. After that..." He fell silent, gazing solemnly at Moriarty's silhouette for a long moment. "He told me... told me he often wished he had died then, that day at Reichenbach..." It should have ended there... it should have... But the new Moriarty was already a part of your past, though neither of you knew it... And even though the identity was a lie... the kindness had not been, not then. "My boy..."

"I'm sure he did. Every time he rose high, he eventually fell even further. He could have been..." He could have been an incredible force for good; you saw more than one reality in which he was. He wasn't sure, though, that Holmes really wanted to hear that right now, or hear what the Doctor really wanted to tell him. People were complicated, and Moriarty as much as anyone else. And the tragedy of it was that the Napoleon of Crime had tried one last time for a real, loving relationship... and failed spectacularly. No, Sherlock probably doesn't want to hear it right now; not after what Moriarty did to Beth. So the Time Lord simply shook his head and said, "Such a waste..."

Holmes reddened, staring down at the ground as yet more regrets resurfaced. "What has he done to you?" "Nothing I have not allowed him to, Miss Lestrade..."

The Doctor frowned at his companion's reaction. "What is it?"

Holmes bit his lip, blush deepening. "Doctor, I..." Don't be a coward, you've put this off long enough. "I assume the others have informed you... of what my part was in this whole affair..."

Oh. The Doctor had wondered when that was going to come up. He turned fully to the detective and said gently, "I do know, Sherlock, yes." Aside from Nikola's updates, Beth had pulled the Doctor aside and quickly given him a run-down, quietly but fiercely insisting that her husband felt his guilt very keenly. Poor Sherlock. He knew only too well what his friend was going through right now.

The detective could barely meet the Doctor's eyes, so full of love and compassion, before he had to look away again, gaze drawn back to the pyre in spite of himself, his own eyes glistening. "If it hadn't been for Beth..." he managed hoarsely. "Even when she thought I didn't care... however deeply I wounded her..." His voice was now a whisper; "she never stopped trying to reach me... to remind me of who I was..."

The Doctor slowly wrapped both arms around him, drawing him into a hug, who returned it gratefully, blinking hard. "Oh, Sherlock," he murmured, "I know. More than you know, I know..." He pulled back to look Holmes in the eye. "There's more than one reason why I take Companions with me." His tone softened further. "You lot remind me every day of who I need to be."

Holmes nodded slowly, all at once reminded of what Moriarty had told him at the very beginning: "He has paid a heavy price for the path he chose – perhaps not heavy enough..." "Doctor..." He sighed. "Forgive me, I don't wish to distress you... but there is something you ought to know... Moriarty... he searched through your timeline, as well..."

The Doctor smiled grimly. "Yeah, I kinda figured that." Farewell, Valeyard. Think on your sins. Moriarty had definitely done his research.

"He wouldn't tell me everything, but... Doctor, he did tell me about the Valeyard." The darkest aspects of the Doctor, given flesh and form... "I'm... so sorry..."

The Doctor took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Can't..." His voice was too hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Can't say I'm really surprised." Not after the way Moriarty had gleefully hurled the title at him again and again. "I'm sorry you had to hear about that, from him…"

"If it helps at all, Doctor... I now know something of what it is like to come face to face with one's darker self."

The Doctor swallowed thickly. "Something of it, yeah… and you should never have had to…" But only something, thank goodness—he doubted Holmes would ever have done some of the things the Doctor had already done. He opened his eyes. "Sherlock, I shouldn't have booted you off the TARDIS, and more than that, I shouldn't have just… left you alone… while you were trying to recover from out-of-body trauma, no less! I am so, so sorry…! " If he'd just taken on a modicum of personal responsibility for his own Companions, they might have avoided a lot of heartbreak. Holmes and Watson might not have split, they might not have been captured, Sally might not have had to go through her first pregnancy without her husband, Beth wouldn't have been murdered...

"Doctor..." Holmes shook his head, smiling sadly. "If I recall correctly, Watson's was the deciding vote to return home – and he was right." They'd both been off the slow path for far too long.

The Doctor shook his head, too. "I didn't go about it nearly the right way."

Holmes's smile became rueful. "Well, my conduct at the time couldn't have helped. How any of you were able to put up with me, I will never know." Even Beth... And speaking of your wife, don't you have something to ask?

The Doctor pulled himself back together at the shift in Holmes's demeanor—the detective actually looked nervous. "…Sherlock?"

Holmes drew a deep breath, then said simply, quietly, "Beth."

The Doctor exhaled shakily, forcing himself to keep eye-contact with Holmes—the look in those grey eyes was breaking his heart. "How long are you going to stay with me?" "Forever." "Sherlock… I'm… working on that…" He grimaced; he didn't want to give false hope! "And I wasn't going to say that much yet..."

Holmes's heart missed a beat. "Doctor, please. Any hope you can give us at this point, especially Beth... " She had so little to hold to as it was.

"Sherlock, you have to understand that I'm playing a very dangerous and very delicate game with Reality. I think I'm right, but if I'm wrong… more than just your world could pay the price." One couldn't just blithely go mucking about with Fixed Points or the people who were part of them—they'd already seen exactly what happened if you tripped and fell.

The detective nodded gravely. "I understand. " But even a slim hope was better than none at all. "Thank you."

The Doctor nodded slowly in return. "It's not just you that owes Beth something, Sherlock." The Time Lord was only too aware of the debt they all owed her.

"Lestrade has a descendant to be proud of," Holmes smiled in agreement. "And I greatly wish I could tell him so."

"Mm, maybe you can someday," the Doctor smiled in return.

Holmes gave a huff of laughter. "Yes, and promptly be thrown in a holding cell to sober up! Oh, which reminds me: we do have to get back to Baker Street sometime this morning – Lestrade and Mycroft will be needing an update on the case." Though he might just neglect to mention any other recent developments.

"Don't worry, I'll get you there bright and early." Of course, "bright and early" would be a while yet—humanoid bodies took hours to burn down on a pyre, and Time Lord bodies were no exception.

Holmes followed the Doctor's gaze, sighing – this being a solemn occasion didn't make it any less dull, he'd been on more exciting stakeouts... "I don't suppose..." He shook his head, half ashamed of himself, but unable to dislodge the irreverent thought.

The Doctor's lips twitched—he knew that look and he'd missed it. "Yeees?"

"Well, it has been a while since either of us has eaten, I imagine..." And this was probably Holmes's last chance to deviate from Watson's diet plan. "Do you want some popcorn?"

Eyes wide, the Doctor covered his mouth, but couldn't help laughing. Now there's the Sherlock Holmes I know and love. "Oh, what am I going to do with you?"

Holmes chuckled, heading back inside. "I'll take that as a yes."


Ria: Good grief, how long has it been since that first stakeout in Tibet: four years? Y'all seem to have been enjoying the adventure, though, we can't believe how patient some of you have been! Next update, chapter 3 of 'Study'.