This is a bit of a short, fluffy chapter. I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long, folks, real life has a way of butting in and making it so I don't get much of a chance to write! But I promise, I am doing my very best to keep writing for you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and will be trying to post again as soon as possible! As always, any mistakes are my very own!

~J.


The conversation seemed to spiral downwards from there. Jayne watched the two men with a slight sense of impending doom, knowing that something would happen that would anger one or the other. It wasn't long before she was proven correct.

Sherlock explained to John about his usual ability to keep distant from his emotions, while holding a glass of brandy and showing his shaking hands. Shaking in fear. He wasn't able to reign in his emotions this time. Jayne tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off. She clamped down on the feeling of hurt that laced through her, knowing that when he felt cornered, even by emotion, that he shut himself deep inside himself or lashed out.

"Yeah, all right, Spock. Just take it easy," John said, trying to reason with him. "You've been pretty wired lately. You know you have." John said,.

"There's nothing wrong with me," insisted Sherlock.

Jayne became worried when Sherlock began breathing hard and seemed almost panicky. "Sherlock?" she asked quietly. Her mind was whirling in circles, trying to think of how to calm him without sending him into an angry outburst. Unfortunately John beat her to it, and caused one instead.

"Sherlock? SHERLOCK?" he prodded, his voice insistent.

"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! Do you understand?" Sherlock shouted, causing both John and Jayne to flinch back.

Sherlock then launched into an intricate deduction of an older woman and her unemployed-fisherman son. "So just leave me alone!" he finished. Jayne was speechless. She'd seen Sherlock frenetic before, but never to this magnitude. Whatever he'd seen had clearly messed with his head.

"Yeah, okay. Okay. Why would you listen to me? I'm just your friend," John said.

"I don't have friends," Sherlock replied, his anger still simmering.

"No, I wonder why?" John asked. Jayne could hear the hurt in his voice. She longed to move to hug him, but felt cowardly and didn't want to direct Sherlock's anger towards herself. She watched as John left the room, and the restaurant. She took John's chair and stared at Sherlock.

He glanced at her and seemed to wilt a bit. "Not good?" he asked quietly.

"Definitely not good, Sherlock," Jayne replied. Sherlock sipped at his drink. Jayne stood to go upstairs. She placed a gentle kiss on the top of Sherlock's head and patted his shoulder as she passed. She entered her room and smiled as she saw the bed turned down for the night and a small box of chocolate truffles placed on the pillow. She had to admit that the room was lovely, done in pale greens and with homey-country style antique furnishings, including an old iron bedstead painted in white with pale gold finials on the bed corners.

The attached bathroom was done in shades of pale coral, aqua and white, with a pedestal sink and clawfoot bathtub with a tall overhead shower. She was already looking forward to a nice hot soak in the tube when she reached into her suitcase to pull out a pair of comfortable flannel pajama pants and a plain white tank top and her long peacock-green satin robe that she'd found at a consignment shop just a few days ago. She hung the robe on the back of the bathroom door, leaving it cracked a little to keep the bathroom from becoming too steamy.

She was very pleased to see a complimentary set of assorted shower gels/bubble baths. She chose a deliciously scented blackberry-jasmine bubble bath and let the tub fill with water and iridescent bubbles. She undressed quickly in the still-slightly-chilly room and sank into the heaven that was a tub of hot water and mass amounts of bubbles. She washed her body and hair quickly before she bundled a spare towel up and placed it behind her neck. She sank to her chin in the frothy mass. She idly began singing as she closed her eyes and let herself relax after such a trying day.

Thirty minutes later, she climbed out of the tub, wrinkly from the hot water. She dried herself off and left her hair down to finish drying naturally. She was just pulling her robe on when there was a sudden knock at the door. She belted the robe tightly and walked into the bedroom and to the door. She unlatched it and found Sherlock standing there, looking a little lost.

"John locked me out," he said, seeming bewildered.

Jayne fought to hide a grin. She could only imagine how annoyed John must be if he'd locked Sherlock out of their shared room. She stepped back and motioned Sherlock inside. "Come in, Sherlock. But if you eat my chocolates, I'll have to bludgeon you in your slumber," she teased him. The corner of one lip raised. He'd already learned to never, ever, ever mess with Jayne's chocolate.

He raised his hand. "I solemnly swear not to touch your beloved coconut-hazelnut-white chocolate truffles." The corners of his mouth raised a little more at his teasing. She grinned back at him.

"Might as well get comfy, Sherlock, we both know that you'll be sleeping here tonight," Jayne said and headed towards the small mini-fridge on the counter. She opened it to find a tiny bottle of brandy. She poured it into a plastic cup. "Not exactly cut crystal, but it'll do for now," she said, handing it to him.

He gave her an odd look. "I know you don't indulge much, Sherlock, and I know that you've had a glass already tonight, but that's the only thing that's going to dull your mind down just enough to let you sleep. I don't much feel like sharing the bed with you if you're going to be tossing and turning thinking of every little possible explanation for what you saw. That can wait until tomorrow morning at least."

He nodded and accepted the drink. Jayne smiled and took his coat and scarf, hanging them on the back of the door. He sat stiffly on the edge of the bed and slowly sipped the internally-warming brandy. He watched Jayne as she bustled back and forth getting clothes ready for the next morning, plugging her phone into the charger, plugging her laptop into it's charger, setting her scant amount of cosmetics on the bathroom countertop, and brushing her teeth. She pulled a book from her suitcase and he felt the bed shift as she plumped the pillows at her back and relaxed against them. She opened the small box of truffles and laid it on her bedside table, taking a bite out of one of the four truffles in the box.

She groaned in tastebud pleasure. "How did you know they were coconut-hazelnut-white chocolate ganache, Sherlock?"

"The box is one of only two designs set forth by that company in the four-piece set. One set of chocolate and espresso flavored truffles, the other the white chocolate. The white chocolate set is designated by a distinctive blue ribbon woven with silver threads. Therefore I only had to look at the ribbon to determine what flavor-" he was cut off by Jayne giggling.

"So basically, you just looked at the ribbon and knew?" she asked, simplifying his answer.

He frowned, annoyed at being stopped mid-explanation. He grumpily crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes."

"Aww, Sherlock. Don't be grumpy," she said, cooing at him, making him roll his eyes and making Jayne laugh harder. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek before holding one of her precious truffles to his lips. Surprised, Sherlock's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth and allowed Jayne to stuff the truffle inside before she kissed him softly.

"Goodnight, Sherlock," she said before snuggling down into the covers. She placed her unread book beside her on the nightstand and reached up to turn off the light on her side of the bed.

Sherlock quickly drank down the rest of his brandy, slipped off his shoes, socks, shirt and slacks and slid into bed beside Jayne. She turned and nuzzled into his chest and he wrapped an arm around her, used to her bizarre need to be as close to the nearest warm object (him) as possible while sleeping. He looked down at her and smiled. "Good night, Jayne."