SURPRISE! Before you all get TOO happy over this random update, I want to let you know that this isn't me returning to regular updates. This chapter is something I've been working on in my spare time since my last update and it has taken me this long to complete it. I wanted so desperately to give you guys something because I've been gone since, basically, the week after Valentine's Day. I'm so sorry for that. And I just wanted to thank you guys so much for your support - the response to my Author's Note was amazing. I was so grateful for your well wishes and it helped me to know that I could take my time in coming back. So, while updates will not be as constant as they were, I have definitely not disappeared.

**IMPORTANT** I hope you like this chapter, as it is the beginning of something new for Sherlock and Katherine and I'm actually quite excited about where this could lead. Just to let you know, the Magnussen case has yet to be wrapped up. I know I haven't mentioned it in the last chapter or two, but the things I'm doing now are laying some groundwork for the conclusion of the story.

I hope you guys are all doing wonderfully and I hope to hear from you in the reviews!

-lightinside

(P.S. What do you think Sherlock is writing a new piece of music for?)

It was early one dreary Thursday morning – a morning that reeked of rain and boredom – when I first heard the music. It wasn't anything that I was used to, but then again, I had never heard it before. It was full of bliss; unaltered, unfiltered beauty. I had never been much of a morning person, but I now found myself wide awake. I sat up slowly in my bed, still focused on the sound emanating from the living room, and glanced over at the alarm clock that was perched precariously on my bedside table, lopsided from a previous attempt to silence it forever.

It was 7:12 a.m.

And just as I was beginning to mull over all the reasons that Sherlock could be awake so early, excluding the possibility that he hadn't slept simply because he had been sleeping so well lately, the music stopped. Frowning, I swung my legs over the side of my bed, wincing as my bare feet came in contact with the chilled floor. I considered for a moment snuggling back into bed and enjoying the music from here, but it was much fainter than it would have been should I venture out into the hall to listen. However, I also didn't want Sherlock to be startled into continuous silence by the sound of my quickened footfalls, as I couldn't possibly take the time to tiptoe down the hall. It was much too cold for that. And though I did love the cold weather, I much preferred to have feeling in all of my limbs.

And so, with a sigh, I made my way out of my room and down the hall, listening to the muted sound of pen on paper before the music started up again. I was glad that he didn't feel the need to stop. Though, I didn't really see why he would since I'd heard him playing countless times during the years I'd lived with him.

I listened to Sherlock repeating the same process over and over – playing a few notes and then scribbling something down on a sheet of paper – and it wasn't until I was sitting across from him on the couch that he finally paused and looked up. I noted right away the ink stains on his hands, where he'd been writing so quickly he hadn't bothered to lift his hand from the paper, and the numerous sheets of paper balled up haphazardly by the coffee table and rubbish bin, as if he had tossed them there in a fit of frustrated distraction.

"Are you writing a piece?" I asked, eyes still roving over the chaos that he had caused while his mind whizzed away from him, thoughts on nothing but melodies and notes and tones as he played and then jotted down his progress before continuing on, or throwing it away and starting over.

"Started on it this morning." He answered, blinking somewhat sleepily. "Did I wake you?"

"Not at all." I assured him, pulling my knees to my chest in a futile attempt to stay warm. "Believe it or not, I'm quite used to you making noise at all sorts of ungodly hours." I continued teasingly. "Really, though, it's actually a pleasant way to wake up."

"Hmmm." Sherlock hummed softly, and I could see his mind was already back at work, lost in his music though there was none yet to be heard aloud.

"Would you mind telling me what brought all this on?" I couldn't keep my curiosity a secret any longer. And as soon as the words were out of my mouth, Sherlock's eyes were on mine, alight with a mirthful twinkle.

"Ah, but that would ruin the surprise." He said, and as he spoke, he scooted the sheet music out of view.

"I can't read sheet music, Sherlock." I told him exasperatedly. "You have nothing to worry about. Your project is safe from prying eyes."

"All the same." He said, walking to his chair and sitting down. "I'd prefer it if you didn't hear it, or see it, all at once until it was completely finished."

I sighed heavily but realized that it would be fruitless to argue. "Fine. I don't see what's so wrong about letting me at least peek, but fine."

"I thought you said you couldn't read sheet music, Katherine." Sherlock remarked, an air of teasing enveloping his words as he stared at me with one eyebrow raised.

"Doesn't mean I wouldn't try." I muttered, soliciting a soft laugh from him that warmed my chilled skin immediately. And it was then that I noticed he was still in his pajamas. "How early did you get up, anyway? This is early enough, I mean, you're lucky I'm even speaking to you right now instead of trying to drown myself in coffee, but…"

Sherlock paused for a moment, lost in thought, before answering. "Must have been three. Closer to four, maybe. I didn't sleep very well last night."

I was confused by this statement, as I had thought that he had been sleeping much better than he had been in a very long time. It seemed to me that he had been, anyway. The nights were quiet, and when I would wake in the morning, sometimes he would still be in bed. After his night terrors and restless violin playing, it was a welcomed relief. Had his reprieve gone away so quickly? "Really, why?"

"Overactive mind." Sherlock mused, shrugging his shoulders lightly. "Common occurrence."

If he wasn't going to give me a straight answer, then I wasn't going to push for one. I knew this to be counterproductive and didn't wish to do damage to the progress that we had steadily been making over the past several weeks. So, I nodded and moved on.

"Do you want to go out today?" I asked, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "I'm meeting some of my cousins for brunch in an hour or so and if you wanted, you could come with me."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow curiously, mouth quirked up at an angle as he studied me. "Is there a particular reason you want me to go?"

"A reason other than the fact that I enjoy your company?" I scoffed, quite unconvincingly, and rocked on my heels as I realized only too late that Sherlock did when he was particularly uncomfortable in certain situations. "No. Why would you think that?"

"Hmm." He hummed, looking very skeptical.

"Okay." I muttered, knowing I was caught. "So, there's this thing… like, a wedding thing, and it's Kyle's wedding – you know, my Aunt Sylvia's son? – and apparently his fiancée, Breanna, wants me to help her pick out her dress. She isn't close to her own mother and she doesn't have any sisters so I suppose I'm a shoo-in for the job. If I had Sylvia for a mother-in-law, I certainly wouldn't take her, so I don't blame Breanna one bit. And I'd really rather not go alone and face the whole 'poor Katherine' charade so can you just…?" I finally stopped talking and realized that I needed to catch my breath. The words had been pouring out of my mouth so quickly that I was surprised he caught any of them at all.

Sherlock was clearly fighting back a laugh, I could tell not from the twitch of his mouth but from the twinkling in his eyes, but held it in to save me further embarrassment. "I suppose pajamas aren't suitable for this outing, then."

I sighed heavily in relief. "No." I said. "No, they really aren't."

After a few seconds of silence, he rose slowly from his chair, still on the verge of smiling. He seemed much happier as of late, though he was still as awkward most days as he had been the moment we'd met. I was slowly finding that I didn't mind it nearly as much as I used to. It was something I identified with him now – something that I felt he wouldn't be himself without.

"Well, then." Sherlock said. "I suppose I'll go change then."

"Really?" I asked, grinning. "You're really going?"

He hesitated and blinked, trying to figure out if I was reevaluating my choice to want him to come along I suppose. "Do you not want me to?"

"No, of course I do!" I began to backtrack in a panic, reaching out to take hold of his arm so that I could reassure him in some small way. I didn't know if I was any good at it, but I could certainly try. I needed him there with me, in the midst of all of my crazy family with their crazy expectations and crazy assumptions. I needed him. And while we weren't to the point where I could just say it without encrypting the words in a code that only I understood, I could express it in other ways as well. "Of course I want you to. I just didn't expect you to offer without me begging on bended knees. Even then, actually, I would have been stunned…" I sighed and tugged on his arm gently, managing to shift him toward me. "Thank you. That's what I'm trying to say. Thank you."

And then, trying to lessen the panic he must have been feeling by my unexpected offer of thanks, I scurried out of the room and began to get ready for the day ahead. And two hours later, after an excess of dread and hesitation from both of us, Sherlock and I were on our way out the door. What I hadn't mentioned was that, while I had been in the shower, Breanna had texted to ask me if I was still going to help her find her dress. And when I had confirmed that I would, but that Sherlock was coming as well, she had then informed me that Kyle would be coming along.

Apparently she thought that Kyle and Sherlock could bond while I helped her in the bridal shop. And while I thought at first that it was a horrendous idea, I also thought that Kyle might be good for Sherlock. He was very much like him in some ways – very honest and straightforward, very technical. Of course, Kyle was graced with social tact whereas Sherlock was not. And so I did wonder how that would go, but I knew that Sherlock could handle himself. Or that he would find some excuse to call me so that I could get him out of it halfway through lunch.

I supposed that I would find out which one it would be soon enough.

We met my cousins outside of the bridal boutique, both of them smiling in such a way that made me feel like I was the last person on earth that deserved to be sharing in their joy. I wasn't necessarily that person. I wasn't optimistic or bright or smiley. I was dark and cynical and sarcastic. And I had a very bad feeling that instead of helping Breanna, I would hinder her.

"Katherine!" Kyle greeted me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug before I could get a word out of my mouth. "It's so great to see you!"

"You too." I said, smiling despite my worries. "How's your Mum?"

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "She's fine, I suppose. She's Mum."

I smirked. "Haven't been able to fix that yet, have you? I would have thought you'd have found some way to cure her of her own shortcomings."

Breanna scowled. "No, he hasn't." She said. "As much as I wish that were true. But I'll tell you a secret – earplugs work wonders."

Everyone laughed but Sherlock, who seemed extremely out of sorts. At this point, hardly five minutes into the venture, I was feeling horrible for dragging him into this and had half the mind to put him out of his misery and send him home. But Kyle got to him first.

"So you're Sherlock Holmes, eh?" Kyle questioned, clapping Sherlock on the shoulder with a wild grin. "It's brilliant to finally meet you, mate. Really. And it's also a relief for me that you showed up because I'm not too keen on spending the day in there with those two. They're trouble," My cousin said, winking at Breanna. "Especially Katherine. But I'm sure you know that already."

I waited for Sherlock's snappish remark that never came. He even refrained from shaking Kyle's hand off of his shoulder and glanced over at him for a moment before turning his gaze to me.

"I'm beginning to figure it out." He said and I got the feeling he was almost teasing me.

Containing my shock, I pretended to sigh and rolled my eyes before looping my arm through Breanna's. I could at least put forth some effort and make this as enjoyable as possible for her. After all, she was brave enough to marry into my family and I had to give the girl some credit. "Oh, both of you, hush." I said. "And run along before you waste any more of our time – there are things to be done, important things mind you, and if you aren't going to help, then shoo."

Kyle shot me a lopsided grin and gave me a lazy salute. "Yes ma'am." And then, he looked toward Sherlock. "Let's go. If we loiter, we're bound to get in trouble."

And so, while Breanna and Kyle said their goodbyes for the day, I took the opportunity and strolled to Sherlock's side, seeking forgiveness for the last minute plans I had allowed Breanna to make for him with Kyle.

"You're not too upset with me, are you?" I murmured, nudging his arm with my shoulder. "About Kyle."

"No." He said, staring at the couple before us. I couldn't tell what he was thinking and that bothered me considerably. It had been a very long time since I hadn't been able to read his face, even a little. But right now, as he watched Kyle and Breanna take their time departing so that they could hold on to each other a little longer, there was nothing. So, I stopped trying to figure him out and began trying to see what he saw. And all that I saw was something that Sherlock and I would most likely never have.

Frowning, I cleared my throat and stepped away from him. "Well, if you should need me, you know what to do. Give me a ring. I may need rescuing myself before all of this is over."

"I may yet survive." He said, tearing his eyes away from my cousins finally. "But I'll keep that in mind."

Before I could say anything, Kyle was ushering Sherlock away. "Okay, this one looks like he needs a drink so I'm going to get him out of here." He said teasingly. "Call me if you need me, Bree. I love you."

"I love you, too." Breanna called, waving until they had rounded the corner. It was only then that she turned to me. "Thank you." She said. "For doing this. Kyle said that it may have seemed a little strange to you, me asking for your help with my wedding dress. And if it did, I just wanted to say that…" She trailed off and I noticed then that she was fiddling nervously with the bracelets on her left hand.

"It's alright." I found myself saying. "Really. I'm happy to do it."

My cousin's fiancée heaved a small sigh of relief and smiled brightly at me. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." I promised, and I suddenly realized that I honestly didn't mind this at all. I had thought there would be more people here, but since there weren't and since Breanna obviously wasn't going to make me feel like an invalid, I was okay. So, when we walked into the bridal shop, the sight of the endless rows of white gowns didn't make me seethe with jealousy. This wasn't my future, but it was Breanna's. She was in love with Kyle and he was in love with her. It was the obvious, simple kind of love. The kind that you could plainly see was going to last until the day they died. My love was not the obvious, simple kind. And I knew then, thinking with a smile over the fact that somewhere, Sherlock was listening unwillingly to the conversation that Kyle was no doubt providing, that I didn't mind as much as I used to.

I was lucky to love someone at all – lucky to be loved by the same someone I cared for. And while Breanna tried on dress after dress and asked for my commentary on each one, I gave it to her willingly. And I even found that I was beginning to enjoy myself… until she brought up the dreaded subject with which I had only just made peace.

"So, have you thought about this for yourself?" Breanna asked me as she twirled in a mirror, studying the current wedding gown she wore in earnest. "You know, marriage and all."

I blinked, suddenly uncomfortable. I wondered if this was what Sherlock felt like throughout ninety-eight percent of every conversation he partook in: a deer standing in the headlights of an oncoming truck. "Um… I mean, yes, I have, but we aren't… we only just… he's…"

Breanna laughed gently and turned to face me, an air of teasing about her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I suppose that now I'm the one getting married, I'm turning into the matchmaker. And since you're already matched, that means I can skip to being overly supportive and asking you as many revealing questions as possible."

I smiled without thinking, grateful for her sudden lightening of the conversation. "No, it's not that. I used to think it was something that I wanted, but I don't see how it could ever happen. Sherlock doesn't seem to be the person who would even want to be married. His first wife is his job. I don't think he has ever given much thought to what comes after that."

Breanna nodded. "That's understandable, I suppose. But have you ever thought about discussing it with him?" She must have then noticed the panicked look on my face, because she went on. "I mean eventually, Katherine, before you worry yourself sick."

I laughed uneasily and shifted in my seat, trying to think about what to say next. I hadn't ever thought about approaching him over it. It almost seemed absurd to even be thinking about it this early on. But I was approaching my thirties much too quickly and I knew that I couldn't make my want of that kind of a future go away. "I haven't really." I said honestly. "This is all so new. I don't want to spook him with talk of marriage and babies just yet."

Breanna laughed again and walked over to sit down next to me, patting down her dress as she did so that she could see my face over its mass. "I'll let you in on a little secret. Kyle and I never told his mother because she would be horrified over it, but… she mentioned your conversation at Christmas a few years ago. The one where she informed you of the fact that Kyle hadn't proposed to me yet… when the truth was that he did. Kyle has been asking me to marry him for three years now."

I felt my jaw drop as I stared at her. How was that possible? That Kyle had been asking her to marry him for that long and she still hadn't said yes until now. "What…? Why have you only just said yes?"

"I was so afraid for so long," Breanna told me softly. "That he would end up like everyone else. That there was something else I wasn't seeing – some massive skeleton in his closet that would jump out the moment I said 'I do'. My entire life, people have been rushing for the exit instead of sticking it out when things get too complicated. And so, the first time he asked me, I panicked. I hadn't thought of marrying him. I hadn't thought about a house or a family, all the things that he made clear he wanted with me when he was asking. So I said no and ran off, leaving him to wonder what in the world he'd done wrong when it was really all in my head."

"But he came back." I stated, knowing that I couldn't be wrong, but still feeling like I was in slight suspense.

"He left me alone for a week or two, probably to give me time to calm down… and then he came back." Breanna paused, thinking about something that brought a bright smile to her face. "And d'you know what he did? He made a joke out of it. When he made it clear that he was in my life to stay, every time he'd get ready to propose, he would pat his pocket where the ring was and say, 'Don't suppose it's time for this yet, is it?'"

I shook my head with a loud laugh. "Mmm. That sounds like him."

Breanna grinned at me. "Yes, it does. But my point is that nothing is ever easy for anyone, no matter what it may seem like. You never know what's going through someone else's head until you ask. And something this monumental shouldn't be ignored. You won't send him running for the hills screaming by bringing it up. From what I've heard, after all the two of you have been through, nothing could ever run him off. Same goes for you, actually. If you're with him right now after everything that he's done, you aren't ever really planning on giving up on him."

And after spending an entire day with Breanna, not knowing all that much about her, there was one thing I could say with certainty in that particular moment.

She was right.