Look another update! YAY! Anyways hope you enjoy it!
DeathDragon130: I'm glad you think so :) Thanks for the review!
Gwilwillith: Thank you!
bored411: Yes I hadn't planned it like that but well Amber and Sherlock are those kinds of people who could go from arguing to talking like civilized people, well as civilized as they can be lol. Um, if you're having issues with the alert system I can send you a PM when I update to make it easier on you until the system starts working properly again for you. Let me know.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize I own Amber, her pets, and Megan as well as any plot you don't recognize!
[013]
Amber and Megan had made it several blocks before Amber voiced that she needed a break. Her head was throbbing more now, she had forgotten to take something for the pain before leaving, and her neck was tight. She wore a thin cotton scarf around her neck to hide the nasty bruise but that didn't mean it hid the mark that well. She occasionally got a few stares from people passing them but people were smart enough to keep their mouths shut, or they weren't concerned enough to ask what happened.
Megan was the one to point out a little cafe, suggesting they head in for tea and maybe something to nibble on. Amber was fast to respond and before she knew it they were sitting in the back of the cafe, in a secluded little booth with tea and muffins in front of them.
Amber picked at a banana nut muffin, leaving crumbs strewn across a napkin. She wasn't so much eating it as much as she was playing with her food. She wasn't in the mood to eat due to the headache that thumped at the back of her head. She tried to pay it no mind but the pain was bad. She was beginning to think that staying home would have been better for her than some fresh air but she wasn't about to admit that to anyone, especially Megan. The other woman would nag her until they caught a taxi and headed back to the Baker Street.
"Head hurting?" Megan asked as she pulled a chunk off her own muffin, which was cinnamon swirl, and stuffed it into her mouth.
Giving a snort, Amber finally stuck a piece of her own muffin into her mouth. She chewed before she spoke. "Just a tad bit. Nothing too bad."
Megan rose one dark brow. "You love banana nut muffins, hell sweets in general. I've never known you to turn a muffin down unless you've got a splitting headache. Don't lie to me love."
Rolling her green eyes Amber finally admitted defeat by pushing her napkin and muffin out of the way to lay her head on the cool wooden top of their table. "Yes my head is killing me. I forgot to take medicine before I fl—left the flat."
Megan let out a whoop of laughter having caught her friend's slip of the tongue. "So you were fleeing!" Her smile was enough to cause Amber to throw a crumb her way before giving in and giving a silent laugh. "Why were you fleeing? Did Sherlock say something?"
"Not so much said something as did something," Amber admitted as she folded her arms on the table placing her chin on top to stare at her dark haired friend.
"What did that git do?"
"You've known him a total of two days Meg," Amber sighed closing her eyes waiting for the next round of throbbing to pass.
Megan snorted. "Two days, two weeks. Makes no difference. He's a bit a git if you ask me. All knowing and acting like a smart ass. I'd have hit him if I hadn't known you liked him."
"Never stopped you before," she laughed when the pain subsided to the point where it wasn't to bad. Nope, just feels like a gnome is running through my head with a pickaxe.
This time Megan nodded while grinning in agreement. "That is true. I even hit Scot once when he was being an ass."
"You hit him more than once Meg. I think the whole time I was with him you hit him a total of twenty times. Once you completely punched him in the nose." Amber chortled even though her throat was killing her now.
"I was drunk, he was drunk, you were drunk. We all were drunk. I wasn't in control of my actions."
Amber gave a light shake of her head as to not hurt herself any more. "Thank god Scot wasn't an angry drunk or you would have been flat on your ass on the ground."
"No but you put me there a time or two," Megan said through stifled giggles as they both fell into a fit of laughter. People around them began to stare but this only caused the two of them to laugh even harder until Amber was nearly in tears from the pain in her throat and the pain in her ribs from lack of oxygen.
They finally settled down after they were approached by a waiter asking if everything was alright. They each had nodded and were left alone to settle down. With her laughter stopped Amber picked up her cool tea and took a sip. The liquid helped in soothing the shooting pain in her throat and while her head still hurt she found that it didn't hurt as much as it had before. Sometimes laughter was the cure for everything, like her mother had always said.
"So, with that said and done, what did Sherlock do that had you fleeing the flat?" Megan asked as she used the edge of her napkin to wipe at the tears still falling from the outer corners of her eyes.
Amber wiped her thumb under her right eye behind her glasses to get rid of the moisture. "It was a subtle movement, nothing profound in the usual sense."
"Okay what was it?"
She rubbed the back of her hand lightly, her eyes averted from those of her friend. "He grabbed my wrist as I was walking out of the Mrs. Hudson's flat. He," she stopped looking for the right words. "I think he was checking my pulse as he asked me what I'd like for dinner."
"And did your pulse pick up or stay the same?"
"I fled the flat Megan, what do you think happened? And how is it that from what I just said that was what you fixated on?" She tapped her fingers lightly now on the table, her nervousness showing itself clear as day.
Megan chuckled. "What did he mean by what you wanted for dinner?"
Amber now blushed. "I pretty much asked him out before I went into the Yard. He said that in my condition I shouldn't be going out and that we could get takeaway, alone without John or you around." She went from messing with her hands to picking at the edge of her scarf.
Megan's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "You asked Sherlock Holmes out on a date?"
Now Amber placed her head on the table and tried to contain her laughter at her friend's hilarious facial expression. "Yes I did and he said yes, just not right now. He could change his mind at any time though." With that thought now fresh in her mind she finished the rest of her tea and tried once more to pick at the remainder of her muffin. She doubted she was going to finish it. Usually she would care about that but since she didn't buy it herself she didn't feel to guilty about wasting the money.
"Lets talk about something more happy, like me moving to London."
"Which reminds me," Amber nibbled some more on her muffin. "You were supposed to catch a train this afternoon. Did you miss it on purpose or forget about it completely?"
"A little of both I suppose. With you having been injured last night I didn't feel like leaving you right yet and I just kind of forgot at the same time. I got the ticket changed and I leave tomorrow at noon. I have Ricky and Lena packing my things."
Amber smiled warmly at the mention of her other friends. "I'm surprised you're letting Ricky rifle through your things. You know that bloke has had a crush on you since you became flatmates with Lena."
"Lena wouldn't let him do anything. He's madly in love with her despite his fascination with me." Megan laughed before drinking down the rest of her tea. "So you haven't asked about my own fascination with a certain ex-army doctor."
It was the redhead's turn to smirk knowingly. "Don't need to ask, you've had a grin and blush on your face since you met him yesterday evening. That and I'm nearly a hundred percent sure he's already asked you on a date. That's the only reason you would be uping your move date."
"Glad you think I'm controlled by my baser instincts," there was a snort as a small piece of muffin went flying Amber's way.
She defended herself pathetically with a napkin as they once more received odd looks from the crowd which had now grown since they first entered the cafe. That was their cue to clean up their mess and leave, apologizing for their loudness and childish actions. Amber shoved a five pound note in the tip jar for their trouble and promptly left with a wave and a mental promise to return.
00000
It was six in the evening, her flat was void of all people and noise. The silence was a blessing as Amber soaked in her claw foot tub with the bubbles nearly overflowing onto the floor. The door was cracked open only slightly so she could hear anything that happened in any part of the flat. She wasn't about to let her guard down just because she was in her flat and no one was around. Megan had a habit of barging in and Sherlock had an issue with the concept of privacy. She wanted to know when she wasn't alone anymore.
Well it was that and the fact that her cat kept clawing at the door every time she attempted to close it all the way. Now the little feline was happily perched on the tank of the toilet on top of Amber's purple silk robe, completely asleep as if nothing was the matter.
This was one of those rare moments that Amber enjoyed. She usually never had down time, especially with the work she did. Sure she usually had at least one day off a week but that didn't mean that day was for rest. She had cleaning to do, shopping, and errands to run. Granted this time off was not her idea in the first place but at least it was paid leave since she had been injured on the job. She knew however that within a couple of days she wasn't go to be as laid back as she was that very moment.
So for now she allowed herself the time to just relax, without work to worry about or the stress of this stalker affecting her. She closed her eyes enjoying the warmth of the water and the smell of the mint bubble bath she was soaking in. Her head had a dull throb but nothing like that afternoon, and her throat wasn't as painful seeing as she hadn't spoken for several hours. With the mix of the warmth and the calming aroma she was falling under the spell of sleep before she even realized it.
She came to as she heard her name being called. At first she assumed it was Megan announcing herself in the flat, or Mrs. Hudson checking on her but as she became more conscious and aware of her surroundings she realized it wasn't a female's voice speaking, it was male and it was a voice she knew all too well. It was the voice that sent shivers down her spine and caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach.
Blinking a couple of times she found her vision blurred and realized why. She wasn't wearing her contacts nor her glasses. However that didn't mean she couldn't see at all. Her vision wasn't bad so she could see that Sherlock was standing in the door frame of her bathroom and the bubbles were now gone.
With a squeak of embarrassment she reached carefully to rip her robe out from underneath the still sleeping cat. The little animal awoke with a hiss and raced out of the room nearly barreling into one of Sherlock's legs. "Out!" Her scream came out hoarse as she tossed a bottle of soap at him. She didn't have to scream twice because he backed out of the door frame and shut the door allowing her some semblance of privacy.
Amber sat there for several moments realizing that Sherlock had most likely seen much of her naked form through the now clear water. She blushed as she stood up draping her robe once more over the toilet and reaching for a towel. She dried off the best she could before slipping on the once discarded robe. Tying it tightly around her waist she removed the pins from her hair, letting her short curls fall where the may as she looked at herself in the mirror.
She stared in the mirror for several minutes before finally waltzing from the bathroom, the embarrassment still beating at her cheeks. She knew she was red, but how red was yet to be determined as she found Sherlock sitting on her couch looking as bored as ever.
Upon her entrance Sherlock had to fight the fluttering in his stomach. He hadn't intended to actually see her naked. He had come into the flat and when she wasn't watching the television in the living room he had gone in search of her. He had found her, completely naked, laying sleeping in the tub.
While the water had been pretty clear there had still been a haze from the bubble bath she had been using. However he had still clearly seen her form. She looked even more slight than she already was and even more stunning. He doubted he would ever forget that image.
Now she came out from the bathroom wearing a royal purple Japanese style robe with her arms crossed over her chest. There was a slight tinge of red in her cheeks which lead him to believe she already knew that he had seen her naked. That didn't make him feel any better knowing that she knew.
Clearing her throat Amber shifted farther into the room, quite aware of his eyes roaming her body. "Um, did you need something?" Her voice, still soft, held a bit of timidness she hadn't ever heard before. When had she ever been timid? There wasn't a time in her life where she could recall a moment.
"I was coming to see if you still wanted dinner or if you had already eaten," Sherlock said, his voice as cool as it always was but she didn't miss the heat and curiosity in his eyes as he continued to watch her.
Amber walked to her chair, a smirk replacing the timidness as the seconds ticked by without him saying anything about seeing her naked, even if she was blocked partially by water. "I haven't given food much a thought really," she said as she curled her feet underneath her. "When I get a headache I tend not to eat."
"Why is that?"
She raised a brow as his rather personal question. "Well usually when I get a bad migraine I vomit after eating. Nothing unusual there, I'd just rather not take the risk so I avoid food at all costs until it clears up."
He gave a brief smile and a nod as if he actually agreed with her. "So you do not want dinner than?"
"I haven't decided actually," she admitted with a slight scratch to the side of her head. "I was thinking I could just make something. I'll make you something as well if you'd like." She smiled already knowing his answer.
"I don't eat—"
"While working a case," she finished for him with a light giggle, her former embarrassment still in her mind but she didn't care at the moment. He eat so little that it worried her. He was thin to begin with and if he didn't eat she knew he was going to get thinner. "How about a sandwich, just something small, something that won't hinder your process," she teased lightly as he just kind of stared at her. "Or soup if you would prefer, it's lighter in the long run. Or I can do a soup and sandwich."
He just sat there in silence while she rattled off things she could make. He was humbled by the fact that even in her current injured state she was worried for his health and that she she was willing to make him something to eat. John didn't even offer to make him food, not even Mrs. Hudson even if she did bring up things when she knew he hadn't eaten in days. While Mrs. Hudson just did, Amber had asked. He found that he liked that. "You do not have to cook for me."
Her smile was bright considering he hadn't said no to her offer. "It's really no problem. Megan is off on a date with John and Mrs. Hudson isn't around tonight so I'd rather have company with my dinner than being alone," she admitted nervously. While taking a bath she hadn't thought about the fact that she was all alone, well she had but it hadn't mattered then. Knowing now that she was alone made her think about what could happen and what might happen.
"Are you worried that you flat will be broken into again?" Sherlock prompted watching her movement closely. He spotted her nervousness by the way she began to toy with one of her orange curls and nibble at her bottom lip. He doubted she knew what she was doing.
She shuddered. "Slightly, yes. I don't get scared often Sherlock. I was scared last night and I think that's why I'm scared now. I've never been in danger like that."
"I'm sorry for putting you in such a position." He still felt as if it were partially his fault she was harmed at the gala. He was thankful there hadn't been any more danger last night.
"If it wasn't me it would have been someone else and they might not have made it out alive."
"How do you mean?" He watched her hands fall to her lap, her chest heaving as she took a deep shuddering breath.
"I didn't react like most people would. Sure I struggled as he dragged me to the hall but I never fought back. I thought instead. I thought about what I could do to keep myself alive until someone figured out I was missing. I figured I could talk to him, try to see why he was doing this. Most people wouldn't have tried to talk to their would-be killer." Her explanation came out rushed, the same manner in which her statement had been said that afternoon at the Yard.
He nodded in agreement. Most people were not smart. When they were in danger they reacted with a flight or fight response. Amber was not like most people. She was smart, smarter than he had first thought. Her response was not of flight or fight in the normal sense, she had realized that the situation she was in wasn't something she could run from nor could she fight without being harmed. For her brain to realize this in the split seconds it took for her to be dragged from the lobby meant her mind worked nearly as fast as his. He was proud of that, proud that not all people were dumb. "I still do not believe that even being abused as you were you managed to keep calm enough to talk."
"Flight or fight wasn't possible as I'm thinking you already know. I didn't want to die and either one of those choices would have gotten me to that point. Talking was the only reasonable response to the situation and I'm really glad it worked." She gave him a grin at that last part to which he returned with a smile of his own.
Sherlock was thankful that she was here and alive, that her response had worked well enough that she only came out of the situation with a couple of bruises and nothing more. He did like her, more than he probably should have since they had only known one another for three weeks at the most, and having lost her to a murderer he had been tasked to find would have left him feeling guilty and more than likely a little empty inside. "What did you have in mind for dinner?" He changed the topic watching her whole face light up.
"Soup and a sandwich, simple things I can make. Nothing out of a can though. I hate canned foods. I've got the stuff for broccoli cheese or tomato basil. I've got turkey and an assortment of cheeses for sandwiches. Have a look and let me know what you'd like while I go put on something a little more appropriate than a robe," she said getting off her chair and headed down the hall just as she was standing up. "Oh," she started as she turned once more to face him walking backwards. "Don't come barging into my flat again, well at least not into my bathroom if you can't find me." She was in her room by the time she finished that statement. She ended up slamming the door with a coy look that dared him to do it again.
Sherlock found himself confused. Her moods shifted nearly as much as his own did. He knew women were prone to mood swings but she went from scared and nervous to flirty and playful. Normally a mood swing would mean going from happy to angry in a split second or happy to depressed. She was a bit of a mystery, a mystery he was beginning to realize he'd like to unravel as long as she never got boring. He doubted that she ever would.
00000
A half an hour later Amber and Sherlock sat quietly around her small kitchen table nibbling on turkey sandwiches and spooning up fresh tomato basil soup. Sherlock had to admit she was a fabulous cook. He already knew she could bake, those cookies she had brought up for Halloween hadn't even lasted an hour after she left. But her food was even better than her cookies, even if it was just soup and a sandwich.
"So what do you think?" she asked after taking a sip from her glass of water.
"It's quite good," he mumbled as he ate some of his soup. It didn't taste overly like tomatoes and the basil wasn't too strong. It was a nice, soft balance which wasn't heavy as some tomato soups tended to be.
Amber laughed as she folded her arms on the table. "Thanks, I think."
"Where did you learn to cook?"
Her smile turned sad for a moment before it turned wistful and happy. "My mum began teaching me to cook when I was five. Mostly it was just grilled cheeses and the like but by the time I was eight, right before she was killed, I was already capable of making omelets and I was beginning to master baking. My aunt carried on what my mum had taught me, taking the time to teach her own children some skills in the kitchen. I can't say my cousins are as skilled as I am but they are capable, well not Mike. He can't cook to save his life." She laughed at the thought of her youngest cousin making anything more than a cold cut sandwich. "Bastard set my aunt's kitchen on fire one Christmas while trying to cook the turkey. He wasn't even frying it."
"You're close to your family." It was a statement not a question.
She nodded vigorously. "More so than I think is probably healthy." She laughed lightly at her own joke. "Truthfully my family has always been close. We're large and Scottish, go figure." Lifting a shoulder with a shrug she picked up the last piece of her sandwich taking a bite.
"You're mother's side of the family is large, what of your father's side?" He asked with genuine curiosity.
She thought for a moment. "I really don't know much of my father's side. I know he came from a small town outside of Edinburgh and his family was quite small. He had an older sister I believe but I think she died of cancer when she was just a teenager. He wasn't born rich but he wasn't poor either. As far as I know his own parents, my grandparents, died before I was actually born. My sisters and brother knew them but I never did. My mum's side is large, with three sisters and two brothers spread through Ireland and even America. I've got cousins spread throughout the world." She smiled fondly remembering the week she spent in New York visiting a couple of cousins her own age a few years back. She loved America but nothing was like Britain and Scotland. Home was home and nothing could change that.
He noted how her eyes drifted as she thought about her extended family. He knew she had traveled, just by the tone she used. He also knew that she loved Britain more than any place she had ever been. He read this all in her face, in her eyes, in the way she spoke. At least she wasn't talking about fear, about the death of her family, about the sadness she felt from their loss. Strong, so strong was she that it made him remember why he enjoyed her presence in the first place.
She smiled suddenly, a warm and slow smile as she folded her arms on the table and just looked at him. "Enough about me, seriously I'm pretty sure you've learned everything about me. Why don't we talk about you?" She was careful with the question already knowing that it might be a touchy subject. She had encountered people who hated to talk about their past, she wasn't so sure if Sherlock was that kind of person or not.
However Amber figure that he was after a couple of minutes of silence passed. He sat there, no longer eating, and trying not to look directly at her. "I—" he started to speak but the sound of a phone buzzing throw him off.
Raising one brow she just sighed already having some idea of who was calling at such an hour, especially since it wasn't her mobile ringing. It had to be one of two people. One of those people happened to be on a date with her friend and the other well, he never really did anything but work, at least that's what she thought. "Lestrade," was all Sherlock said before answering.
Seeing nothing better to do, Amber got up from the table grabbing her dishes as she went. She placed them in the sink before going back for Sherlock's not bothering to listen to the conversation. It was logical for her to believe that he would tell her after he hung up. She washed the dishes while she waited and that wait wasn't too long.
"More murder?" she asked leaning backwards against the counter, her nails tapping against the edge.
"No. Lestrade wanted me to let you know that unfortunately none of the fingerprints they obtained from your flat were usable. Also the allyway killer, as you so colourfully named him, has admitted to everything." Sherlock put his hands prayer style in front of his lips watching her, as if waiting for a particular response.
Amber closed her eyes, the memory of hands around her neck springing unbidden into her mind. She fought the urge to gasp the best she could and opened her eyes looking into his blue ones. "Did Lestrade say why he did it?"
"He did not. I am sure that tomorrow if you ask him he will be more than willing to tell you what he knows."
Nodding slowly, Amber jumped up onto the counter, not seeing anything else to do. "So no mayhem or chaos. You must be suffering."
"Suffering?"
"Yes," she said with a slow smile. She wasn't stupid and she knew he was lying about not understanding what she had said. "Like Halloween morning, without murder being a forefront of the days activities I thought you were going to tear up your flat. It would seem that if you don't have something to occupy your mind you get a bit nutty."
While he was surprised he didn't let it color his face. Perceptive, that was what she was and he knew that was why she worked so well with the police. Her perception allowed to catch things that might not be noticeable at first to a normal crime scene photographer. She was an asset, not just a girl with a camera, though he never doubted that she was. "Very good but no I am not suffering. I've got a case after all."
Amber raised a brow as she questioned, "And what case would that be?"
"Yours of course. Can't have a stalker breaking in and writing little messages now can we?" He actually teased her watching as her eyes lit up with surprise and excitement. He didn't realize however that this was what flirting was, a back and forth of witty comments and subtle teasing.
She just giggled then, a light sound that held a hint of gravel from her injured throat. "No we can't. It wouldn't do for me to find a note written on my walls. Heaven knows what Mrs. Hudson would do."
"Repaint most likely," he said offhandedly having not figured out that she was teasing him right back.
Rolling her eyes she hopped off the counter and walked by him, patting his arm hopelessly as she did so. However she smiled brightly knowing that he was more than a little confused as to what was going on between them. She knew though what she was doing, what he was doing even if he didn't know it. "I was teasing Sherlock," she said with a yawn as she walked to the living room with him following behind, a quizzical look upon his face.
And oh what a face it is, she thought in a flash and felt her cheeks flare suddenly. She had to hide her face in her arm, pretending to cough because of the soreness of her throat as she sat herself on the couch. Her thought wasn't a lie. His face was amazing and interesting to look at. He wasn't typically handsome, as she had noted upon their first meeting. He had high cheekbones, cheekbones that a woman might kill for if given the choice. His eyes were an icy blue sometimes slipping into gray depending on the lighting or what he wore, and his skin was pale but not sickly so. His face was like a piece of art and from time to time she couldn't take her eyes off it. Like now when he looked so confused and out of place. To be the one that confused Sherlock Holmes, what a lovely thought.
"Are you alright?" His question brought her out of her thoughts and back into reality.
She gave a quick smile. "Yes, of course why?"
"You seemed to be thinking quite intently and staring at me."
Her blush just got deeper. "Oh, well I do that sometimes, just drift off into my own mind. It's what normal people do from time to time. Sorry." She followed this with a yawn which she covered with a hand. She still felt the heat in her face and cursed herself and her fair coloring.
"I believe you should be going to bed now Amber." He pointed out noticing her yawn as well as see the blush tinting her white cheeks. But why was she blushing? What had he said that could have embarrassed her? Unless she was embarrassed about something she had done or thought? While he could deduce a persons life story he could not, however, read someones mind much to his annoyance.
Amber found herself yawning again despite her effort to not. "I'm not tired."
"Then why is are you yawning?"
"I could be bored?" She shrugged a shoulder.
He leveled his gaze on her. "Are you bored?"
"Not in the slightest."
"Then you must be tired."
"Are you tried?" She cocked her head to the side as she waited for him to answer the question she already knew the answer to.
"Not in the slightest," he said taking a seat in a chair opposite of her.
As much as she enjoyed this little battle they seemed to be having she was indeed starting to feel the days events taking their toll on her. While she was used to getting five hours of sleep she had even less than that the night before and it was beginning to show. She didn't want him to leave however. She yawned again.
Sherlock spoke before she could defend that yawn. "Amber, you have had a stressing couple of days, with the events of the gala and the break-in this morning. I think it would be wise if you were to go lay down and sleep."
"Sherlock, as much as I appreciate your concern for my health, though I believe it's just an excuse to snoop around my flat, I don't need yet another person telling me what to do. Megan has been telling me I need to rest, same with John. Mrs. Hudson is telling me I shouldn't spend the night alone here until the windows are fixed," she held up her hand before he could open his mouth to agree. "And I've got Lestrade telling me to take the time and relax. Please don't be another one of those annoying people who believe that they know better than I do." She huffed as she slumped back into the couch.
He didn't know whether to be put off or happy that she didn't just roll over and give into someone else instructions. "I am not trying to tell you what to do. I said I believe that you should get some rest and that it might be wise, not that you should do it."
With a heavy sigh she just rubbed at the back of her head. "Well then I suppose you are right. Rest would be a good idea but truthfully I don't want to."
"Worried?"
She lifted a shoulder delicately while nipping at her bottom lip. "A little I guess but who wouldn't be? I mean I had someone break into my flat while I was sleeping. I'm being stalked. Any person in their right mind would be worried."
"How about scared?"
This was starting to feel like a therapist session. If she wanted one of those she would have paid for one. "I've got the smartest man in England working my case, of course not." She lied only slightly.
Sherlock didn't point out her lie, just gave a flash of a smile. "I will stay here until Megan and John return from their date," he seemed to tense at the word 'date'. "If that will help that is."
Amber took a moment to think it over. Would she feel better if Sherlock stayed in her flat while she tried to get some sleep, at least for a little while? Would she feel safe and secure? The more she actually thought about it the more she began to realize that she did feel safe with him again and that meant that she was beginning to trust him with her life, since he could literally save hers if anything happened while she was sleeping. "Yes, it will actually as odd as that sounds."
"Not odd at all."
She smiled kindly as she got up. Despite her better judgment she went over to stand beside Sherlock. She took his hand and gave it a light squeeze before leaning down and giving him a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you Sherlock, for saving me the other night and for helping me with all this."
He didn't really know what to say but it wasn't as if she really gave him time to respond. Instead she just wandered off back to her bedroom saying goodnight as she shut the door with a soft click. He touched the spot on his cheek where her lips had come in contact with his skin. His face felt warm as he thought about the gesture and he felt a fluttering in his stomach. So many feelings came about inside him when she was around and he still had yet to figure them out. He believed it was time to have a chat with John, even if that did mean a little bit of teasing.
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