Chapter 7: Stay

"Stay." she said and patted the bed next to her. His eyes widened and his mouth went slack as he realized that she was asking him to get into the bed with her! "To sleep, Sherlock" she said simply with a tiny giggle. Then she turned over to face the wall, pulled up the covers a little, and left him to make the decision. It didn't take long for him to realize that holding Rose Tyler would be a fantastic way to spend the night. He undressed quickly down to his tshirt and boxers, threw his clothes over the chair in the room, and slid into the bed next to her. He realized, too late, when his leg touched hers, that she wasn't wearing any pants either. He tensed. "Relax," she whispered. She reached back, grabbed his hand, and pulled his arm over her, and thereby, snuggling her back into his chest. His heart pounded, but he rested his hand on her ribcage and tightened his grip as he felt her body slip into just the right position where they could rest comfortably together – closer than they had been before. He sighed as he smelled her hair up against his cheek and, still marveling at where he was, he fell asleep.

Rose woke first, feeling better rested than she had in awhile. She was still snuggled in Sherlock's embrace and noticed with some amusement that his hand had slid up and was tucked beneath her breast. She was momentarily sorry that she was still wearing her bra from the night before. The next thing that she noticed was that his very impressive morning erection was poking her in the bum. She thought about all of the things that she could do about that, but then sighed and decided that it would probably be a good idea just to sneak out of bed first, so she wouldn't embarrass him (or herself!). She slid out of bed and quietly gathered some clothes. She turned back to see Sherlock, asleep in her bed, and looking more relaxed than she had ever seen him before. She smiled and exited the room to start her morning routine.

Sherlock woke soon afterwards, first noticing that he was alone in Rose's bed, and then he became aware of his rather large morning problem. He wondered first, if Rose had noticed and then, a little embarrassed, he wondered if she had been impressed. He shook his head, and then listened for a moment. He could hear her in the kitchen, so it would probably be safe to sneak into the bathroom. He was suddenly grateful that there was a bathroom door in the bedroom, so he wouldn't have to go out into the hallway – where she could see him from the kitchen. He stopped, suddenly amused by the irony that he had once worn nothing but a sheet to Buckingham Palace, but was too embarrassed to be seen in his girlfriend's hallway with tented boxers. He was undressed and in the shower before he realized that he had used the word "girlfriend" to describe Rose to himself. Is that what she was? Would she like to be? He thought about it as he used the flannel, and some masculine toiletries, that she had set out for him earlier. He briefly wondered about the toiletries, and felt a surge of jealousy, but then tried to convince himself that it didn't matter. Rose was a gorgeous and amazing woman. Of course, she occasionally had men stay overnight. All that mattered now, was that there would not be any more… other than him, of course - he hoped. He just had to figure out a way to arrange things to work out that way.

Rose heard Sherlock in her shower and smiled at the thought. She had tried to repay his thoughtfulness from the night at his flat by laying out some supplies for him including some manly shampoo and shower soap, so he wouldn't have to use her girly stuff. She even laid out an electric razor since she noticed that he preferred to be clean shaven. She always kept some things like that on hand because she never knew when a broken-hearted, in-the-doghouse, or just too-drunk-to-leave friend, team member, or even a "visitor" would need to stay over. She only hoped that this would not be the only time that he would get to use them!

She wondered if he preferred tea or coffee in the morning and set out supplies for both. Then she made toast and eggs since that was basically all she had in the fridge. In fact, she hoped that the milk was still good since she had been gone for a week –a quick sniff verified that it would do, but that she should pick up some more soon. Then Sherlock made an appearance, with damp hair, but still wearing the clothes from yesterday, and she smiled at the sight. "You know, for some reason I have a burgundy shirt here that might fit you. It's hanging in the bedroom closet if you want it." She winked.

He laughed at that and they made a little getting-to-know-each-other breakfast small talk about how they preferred their eggs (neither had a preference, so she just scrambled them) and whether they liked coffee or tea in the morning. (Sherlock always had coffee in the morning, but could drink either it or tea throughout the day. Rose could go with either in the morning, but only tea throughout the day.) He offered to make them both coffee since she was cooking the eggs. She was grateful and then impressed. It was quite good coffee and he smiled when she told him so. They ate at the little kitchen bar and then quickly cleaned up the few dirty dishes. Then they made their way back to the sofa to pick up where they left off the night before. Rose looked over at the pictures that were still on the coffee table, and looked back up at him. "So," she said trying to sound casual, as if everything important didn't hang on his answer, "time travel?"

"I'm still not certain," he said, wanting to be honest, "but I am willing to believe." Her smile lit up the room.