((Hey you guys! Thanks for the reviews and what not, as always. And yeah, to see my face: www. Weve – gotta – kind – of – lovehate . tumblr. Com . Just remove the spaces, and then click on my FAQ… And. Yeah. Idk. My face really isn't that special, I'm just restating it cos I don't think it worked last time. This chapter is LONGER. Yay! AND Rose's secret is revealed… So yay. Xx- Tori))
I walked into my flat, thinking over my visit with Mycroft. It made me sick to think that even he had doubts about me. I just wanted to be normal. Have a normal education, friends, and home. That's why I moved from Ireland in the first place. I put on the kettle, my thoughts switching to Sherlock… Sherlock. If he found out about my past… No, that wasn't even an option. I wouldn't let that happen. Besides, as far as I could tell, there was no danger. I trusted Mycroft to take care of it if there was.
I finished making my cup of tea, and sat on my couch, popping in a season of Doctor Who. I grabbed my phone, considering sending off a text to John to see if he'd like to join. God knows he probably needed a break from Sherlock. He got… crazy (to say the least) while on cases.
John. You busy? I have a cup of tea and an episode of Doctor Who calling your name… - Rose
John's reply came in seconds.
Sounds wonderful. Thank God for you, Rose. Be there in 10 - JW
I smiled, and reboiled some water, waiting for him. True to his word, about ten minutes later there was a knock at the door.
"John."
I beamed, letting him in. He hugged me, and smiled, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat.
"Sherlock driving you up the walls?"
I questioned, disappearing to fetch his tea, and then coming back with it. John took the mug, and we sat comfortably together on the couch. He nodded.
"He's acting like a complete wanker."
I giggled.
"Well, nothing new there."
I pointed out. John chuckled, and sipped his tea, stretching out beside me.
"Just more than usual. And when he's not acting like a dick, he's acting… not himself."
I heard the hesitation in his voice, and I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
John glanced a little uneasily at me, and then looked down at his tea.
"I caught him with my computer the other day…"
I sipped my tea, my eyebrows raised in a 'so?' fashion. John cleared his throat, and continued, his voice sort of muffled as he spoke into his cup.
"He was watching porn."
I choked on my tea, my eyes widening. Sherlock? Watching porn? Ha, that's a good joke John, tell it again. After I'd recovered, I just stared at John, wide eyed, and listened to him speak.
"Yeah. Exactly. But you should've seen him… I mean, when he realized I'd seen, he shut the computer in a flash… But he wasn't even… doing anything. It looked like he was… studying it. Like he was curious… It was quite a sight, his eyebrows scrunched, and blushing madly. It was like… He's never done that stuff… And he was trying to figure out… What to do… And how to do it…"
I blushed, biting my lip.
"I don't think he has done that stuff, John. He didn't even know how to kiss… But… Don't look at me. We aren't even near that stage… If that stage would even exist between him and me."
John sighed, and nodded.
"Figured as much."
We lapsed into a silence, and sort of leaned into each other. He rubbed a sock covered foot against mine gently, and a smiled. John and I were friends. In fact, I'd call him my best friend. We both had to deal with Sherlock, we both liked the same things, and we knew we always had a… safe haven with each other. It was comfortable. Yeah, we'd dated… But it didn't seem to make things awkward at all. I felt like our friendship was rare; special.
"I have a date with Sarah tonight. From the clinic."
I smiled at John's announcement.
"Well look at you, Mr. Hot Stuff."
He chuckled and nudged me.
"Yeah. I'm excited. She's an amazing woman."
I nodded. Surprisingly, this conversation wasn't weird at all.
"I'm excited for you, John. You deserve someone like that…"
'Someone besides Sherlock' was the unspoken rest of my sentence, and John knew it… Not Sherlock himself, but John deserved to get away from the stress Sherlock caused him. John smiled, and wiggled his toes.
"So, how come we always end up never watching our show?"
I giggled, and shrugged, about to respond, but was interrupted.
"I don't understand it either, John."
My head snapped round to see Sherlock standing behind the couch, hands firmly clasped behind his back. I sighed, a hand over my flying heart, and John stood, running his fingers through his hair.
"Shit, Sherlock! You can't. Keep. DOING. That!"
I saw Sherlock's eyes tighten a little, and I knew he was mentally overthinking EVERYTHING in his head.
"Doing what John? Walking into my flat? And walking into my… Rose's flat?"
John glared.
"No you prick. Walking in and just… just WATCHING all SILENTLY."
There was a brief stare down between the two men before John shook his head, and strolled to the door. I followed, watching him slip on his shoes, and then handed him his coat.
"Thanks for the tea, Rose. It was nice. Now. I've got a date to prepare for."
I half smiled, feeling the tension in the air.
"Alright. Knock her socks of, John. And let me know how it goes."
John gave me a smile, a hug, and then left. I walked back into the kitchen, feeling Sherlock's eyes burning into me.
"Tea, Sherlock?"
He huffed behind me, and I turned to see him all upset.
"Sherlock Holmes, are you pouting?"
"No."
*pout*
I sighed.
"Fine. Alright, fine. What is it?"
He sniffed, his chin held high, looking everywhere but me.
"You were… snuggled with him."
I almost laughed at how strange it was to hear the word 'snuggled' come out of Sherlock's mouth, but composed myself.
"John and I are just friends."
Sherlock's jaw clenched and he seemed to be struggling with something inside him, before finally speaking.
"Yes, but… John… John is tea and jumpers and…"
He stopped speaking, and shook his head, before starting again.
"John is everything. And I am…"
He gestured the last word to me with his hands.
Nothing.
I frowned, and stepped towards him, then stopped when he stepped away.
"Sherlock."
I spoke firmly, giving him a look.
"Couch. Now."
I glared at him, him glaring back, until he sighed, and stomped his stubborn arse to the couch. I followed him, arms crossed. He looked like a scolded little child, all pouty and hunched over. I knelt between his long legs, making him look at me. I rubbed my thumbs over those lovely cheekbones, looking him in the eye.
"Sherlock. You are… everything. You aren't the same 'everything' as John, but you're still everything. You two are different. You are… You're scarves, and violin music, and ice… and heat… and just… everything."
I watched him swallow hard, and try to pull back.
"Rose, I can't-"
"I KNOW this is uncomfortable for you Sherlock, but fucking DEAL with it."
I snapped at him, holding his face close to mine.
"I'm yours. Not John's. And you're mine. Okay? I don't give a damn about what people say about you, or even what YOU say about yourself. I think its bullshit."
Sherlock glared at me, and I glared back, just completely frustrated with everything. It was like everyone was trying to make my own decision for me and I was just sick of it.
I pushed my lips to his, reaching up to grip his dark curls hard.
"Ahh…"
Sherlock let out a breathy noise, and I took the opportunity to push my tongue into his mouth, not letting him pull away.
"Mine."
I spoke softly when I finally pulled away, and then pressed kisses over his jaw, hearing his panting breaths.
"Mine, mine, mine."
I hissed with each touch of my lips to his skin, then pulled away to get that damned blue scarf out of the way, revealing that wonderful neck of his. His icy eyes met mine before I ducked down, kissing over the length of pale skin.
"Mine, Sherlock. Say it."
His breathing was now short, uneven gasps and his speech stuttered as I bit down, leaving red on his skin.
"Y… Yours."
I moved to the junction where his neck and shoulder met, and began with my mission of creating a mark.
"Mine."
Sherlock let out a soft whimper, and started up a chant of "Yours, yours, yours." I pulled away from his neck when I was satisfied with the bruise I'd made on his skin. Tracing it lightly with a fingertip, I looked up and smiled at him. He was gripped the back of the couch, eyes wide. Good. He needed this message engraved in his head. I kissed his cheek gently, whispering "Mine" softly into his ear. He shivered before nodding quickly.
"Yours."
Sherlock stayed for a bit longer. After letting him calm down a bit, I got him some tea, which he sipped quietly.
While holding my hand.
It made me feel… All warm inside, having him hold my hand. He was choosing to create physical contact between us.
"It's six. I need to go."
I nodded at his words, and stood with him. He pulled on his coat.
"I'm going with John on his date."
I frowned.
"Uh, like HELL you are."
He sighed.
"Calm down. It's for the case. He'll have to deal with it."
I shook my head at him, wondering how John put up with this man child.
"Right. Okay."
Sherlock reached for his scarf, but hesitated, and I watched as he touched the mark on his neck gently, a small sort of fond smile on his face.
"Did… Did you ever give John these?"
I laughed softly, and shook my head before taking his scarf and arranging it around his neck.
"No. I didn't. Now… Go… Save London, or whatever it is that you do."
He gave me a crooked smile.
"Actually that's pretty accurate."
I rolled my eyes, and pushed him towards the door.
"Good night, Sherlock. And please, try your best NOT to ruin John's date!"
"No promises!"
He took the stairs down two at a time and I closed the door behind him.
That night, John and Sherlock ended up in fist fights, almost losing their lives, and solving the case. Typical night for them apparently. And poor Sarah was there along for the ride. I didn't really see a second date for her and John… I felt bad for John, but then again… Any girl he dated would have to be able to handle stuff like that… so…
Yeah, I felt bad for John.
Weeks passed, turning into months, and things were pretty normal. (Well, as "normal" as usual.) I managed to force Sherlock into going to Greg's with me one night. Greg had invited us all over to watch some football, and of course Sherlock threw a hissy fit about it… But, I managed to make him. He was all sulky part of the time, but a bit of the time I saw him actually smiling. So that has to count for SOMETHING, right?
Our relationship was still moving slowly, but ever since that day in my flat, something had changed. Sherlock wasn't as tense anymore when I was around John. And occasionally, if we were both in the lab or the morgue, he'd come up behind me and whisper a soft "Mine" or "Yours" in my ear. (Of course, it was usually "Mine" because that man has an ego the size of England. But hey, I'll take what I'm given.) It was baby steps, but it was good. So good…
Until the day my worst nightmare walked through the door.
I was working diligently in the lab when Molly rushed in.
"Hey, Rose. I've gotta run these samples up to Dr. Wooley. I'll be right back, I swear, but I've got a lunch date and I told him to meet me here. If he comes can you tell him I'll be right back?"
I agreed cheerfully, glad that Molly had found someone. It'd been awkward with the whole… Sherlock… thing. She left, and sure enough, a few minutes later I heard the door open. I was bent over my microscope as the visitor spoke.
"Hi… Is Molly Hooper in?"
I finished writing down my observations, smiling at the man's accent. An Irishman? Atta girl, Molls.
"Yes, she'll be right back, you must be-"
I turned around, and froze, seeing the man in the doorway. He wore a smirk on his face as he studied me.
No… no, no, no… Please… God, no.
The man laughed a light, airy, oh so familiar laugh, and spoke again.
"What, not happy to see me?"
"Jim-"
My voice came out strangled, and I shut up, fighting to control it. Fear was coursing through my body. He smirked again, and I wanted to smack it off his fucking face. His next words scared me even more.
"Hello Sis. It's just wonderful to see you again."
