Madelyn was overcome by his protectiveness. She was slightly caught off-guard by his sudden display of fondness, since earlier that same day they had both simply disregarded the fact they had kissed quite passionately in an abbey. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly, becoming acutely aware of the circumstances she could have been in if Sherlock had indeed not been around. She could have been defiled cruelly and mercilessly left to freeze to death in that dark alley. She felt so weak and vulnerable; her vision became blurry as fresh tears welled in her eyes and began to cascade down her cheeks. Burying her face in her arms, she wept silently as her independent façade crumbled from her recent traumatic experience.

Holmes said nothing and simply wrapped his arms around the broken girl, pressing his lips into a tight, thin line. The fire crackled in the background as Holmes attempted to soothe the new woman who had captivated his interest. Madelyn finally managed to calm down as the fire had begun to fade into glowing cinders that pulsed subtly as the remainders of the wood were consumed. She relaxed and leaned into the comfort of the detective's broad chest, his arm still around her shoulders.

Holmes smelled deliciously of tobacco and fresh paper, with a musk that was solely his own. Madelyn was blissfully swimming in his scent, feeling her own body respond in an animalistic desire for him. She innocently shifted to lie on her side and rest her head on his shoulder while placing her arm across his stomach. He tensed under her movement, groaning under his breath as she leaned on his injured shoulder (courtesy of the late Professor Moriarty). Madelyn gasped and sat up quickly at his quiet utterance of discomfort.

"I'm sorry…I…I'm sorry…" She whispered in a flustered way.

"No, no…It's quite alright, just my bad shoulder is acting up." He assured her, sitting up as well.

"I…perhaps I should go…" She stood and looked around for her own clothes, remembering she was wearing borrowed clothes.

She removed the large black jacket from her person when Sherlock was suddenly instantly behind her with his hands placed firmly on her shoulders. She jumped a little at how unyieldingly he stopped her dead in her tracks. She swallowed nervously as her heart fluttered at his objection.

"There is absolutely no feasible way I am letting you leave this room tonight. Not with that…bastard still roaming around out there." He said quite forcefully.

He turned her around to face him, her body silhouetted by the faint glow of the fireplace. Her silky, dark curls that framed her pale, porcelain face brushed against his hands sending sharp tingles through his senses. He could feel his hormones begin to affect him, becoming increasingly aware of her sweet, seductive pheromones clouding his head with all natures of thoughts wildly inappropriate for a man so hell-bent on keeping his emotions sealed away. Madelyn nodded in silent submission.

"Well, then if I'm to be staying here for the night, I would at least like to get out of these borrowed clothes." She commented, continuing to search for her own garments.

Finding her grey knee-length leggings she wore beneath her full-length durable brown pants, she turned partially to Holmes. He understood her unspoken request for privacy, but instead of leaving the room entirely, he simply faced the opposite direction from which Madelyn stood. Madelyn made no objections or complaints of his presence and unbuckled the belt on the tan pants she had been wearing. The moment the buckle loosened, the oversized pants slid over her hips and fell to the ground with a muffled swish. Without speaking a word, Madelyn stepped into her leggings and pulled them up carefully, adjusting them to fit properly on her legs and groin. She then began to lift the shirts over her head.

"You may keep the shirts if you like." Holmes said, breaking the silence.

Madelyn released the shirts from her hands that she had begun to shed from herself and the shirts fell silently back to their place, flowing silently around her slender torso. She slung the borrowed pants over Sherlock's shoulder (who was still politely turned away from her), signaling that she had finished changing. His hand moved up to remove them and he tossed them carelessly on top of the pile of clothes he had cleared off the bed, still refraining from turning to look at Madelyn. Silence settled in the room once again.

"Where would you like me to sleep?" Madelyn asked, this time breaking the silence.

Sherlock gestured to the solitary bed in the room.

"And where will you sleep? I can't imagine sleeping on the floor or a pile of clothes will be all that comfortable…or warm." She noted.

Holmes swallowed audibly and turned to face her for the first time since she changed. His eyes flitted down her figure, observing her toned and slim legs from travelling on her uneven terrain of rooftops. She was thin, due to the lifestyle she led, but not extremely so. Her feminine curves were hidden under the adorably oversized shirts that hung baggily around her. After a little while, he at last found his voice.

"We could share it. But we are to sleep strictly back-to-back." He added, setting some boundaries.

Madelyn agreed to the conditions as Holmes laid himself down first on the bed, moving to the far side and faced the wall. Madelyn climbed in after him, laying on the nearer side and faced the fireplace at the opposite end of the room. They had covered themselves with large overcoats, one for each occupant of the bed. The coats overlapped each other at the center of the bed so that they both had a portion of the other's jacket over them as well. The bed was rather cramped (a twin-sized bed was the only bed small enough for the room to have sufficient floor space), so even while facing away from one another, their backs were solidly pressed together as they lay silently, neither of them with sleep on their minds.

The tension in the air was so thick; Madelyn began to feel a bit claustrophobic at the persistent direct physical contact with Sherlock. She steadied her breathing as best she could, feigning sleep through her evenly patterned breaths. She knew that Holmes wouldn't be fooled by it in the slightest, but she was really more trying to enforce self-control on herself, restraining from acting on her still turbulent hormones.

Holmes shifted on his side of the bed. Madelyn could now feel his arm pressing on her back, and his gaze boring into the back of her head. She lay absolutely still as he continued to observe her through his entrancing hooded eyes. He shifted again and although she could no longer feel his arm against her back, she still felt his gaze intensely focused on her. Feeling audacious, Madelyn spoke quietly into the darkness.

"Mister Holmes, are you violating your own rule of sleeping back-to-back?" He seemed to be expecting her to speak as he replied with equal daring.

"Rules are always meant to be broken, my dear. And as you know, I'm a bit of a rule-breaker, according to the most inept law-enforcer in all England." He referred back to Inspector Lestrade's short eulogy they had listened to earlier that day.

Madelyn laughed melodiously and turned over on the bed to face him, since all bets were off, as it were.

"That's logical, I suppose. Old habits die hard and so forth. Though why you even bothered to set them when you intended upon breaking them anyways is beyond me, and, frankly, rather counter-productive" She enunciated each word carefully, smiling serenely.

"Mmm." Holmes agreed distractedly.

He tucked a strand of her curly hair back behind her neck, bringing to his mind the scar that lay on the other side of her neck. Madelyn shivered slightly at the caress of his hand on her neck.

"So…your aggressor from earlier this evening…I gather it that he is your 'employer' that you previously mentioned?" he approached the subject gingerly.

Madelyn nodded solemnly, her eyes averted as she recalled the events from both that day and the many years ago she had worked for him. She spoke steadily, which took a great amount of effort to accomplish.

"He raised troops of orphaned children as pick-pockets in return for shelter and not sending us to the work house. We were to give him our entire daily collection until we were adults and could fend for ourselves. I hated it. Even though our targets were incredibly wealthy and assuredly could spare some change, they weren't willing to. Selfish as they were, I never relished the idea of thievery to be my career path…" She paused, glancing up to Sherlock's sympathetic eyes before continuing.

"So, I managed to hoard some of the earnings I made every single day until I knew how to escape easily to the rooftops where Boss and the others couldn't follow me. But the night I tried to escape, one of his special underlings tipped him off while he was blindly drunk. In a rage, he attacked me with a broken bottle. That's where I got this." She pulled the collar of her shirts aside to reveal the whole scar that marred her skin.

"I escaped, obviously, but I never stopped dreading the possibility that I might run into him again around the city. I guess today was that day he finally caught up with me." She fell silent after her explanatory statement.

Madelyn tried to curl up defensively next to Sherlock, but he wouldn't let her (quite literally, as the bed was so small). Sherlock wrapped his arm around her waist gently, pulling her flat against his chest. Her head fit perfectly, tucked under his chin, as he ran his fingers through her surprisingly silky hair (considering the conditions she usually lived). He wondered the last time she had slept with a roof over her head instead of beneath her feet.

A calm silence fell around the couple in the bed, and soon Madelyn's breathing slowed as she dropped into genuine sleep. Sherlock listened contentedly for a while, comfortingly rubbing her back as she subconsciously snuggled closer to him. His lips curved into a small smile, and he pressed them simply to the crown of Madelyn's head.

"Sweet dreams, my dear." He whispered to the slumbering girl, before he too succumbed to a peaceful sleep.


Le sigh. How romantic~

So, yeah the whole romance thing has got me pretty damn side-tracked from the actual plot that I developed; hopefully I'll try and steer this back on track in the next chapter (dunno when I'll get around to another chapter-update, school's gonna be gathering speed pretty soon here).