Right. My laptop is broken. It's not getting fixed until at least next month. My lovely Mum has said I can use hers until then (obviously while she's not on it) but this machine doesn't have Word. Which means I'm writing chapters as Email drafts. Therefore, spelling and punctuation has more than likely deteriorated and I'm so sorry for that. But it's either bad spelling or no updates...

Also, did anyone manage to get down to Setlock on Gower Street last weekend? By some miracle I did and although it was rather chilly, I had such a good time.

As usual I don't own Sherlock. Only Emily.

As usual a BIG THANK YOU to those who have followed, favorited and/or reviewed. Especially to freshneverfrozen. All reviews make my day, but yours made my week. I'm a little nervous about publishing this chapter though for fear you won't like it.

And to Desert Vulpes Zerda I haven't already been asked that question. And if I'm honest I haven't really thought about an actress to portray her. But I'm going to be on the lookout now. Thank you for asking.

One last thing before I let anyone actually reading this go...what do you all think of Sophie Hunter...Mrs Cumberbatch? I'm interested in your thoughts of her.

"Emily." A deep voice interrupted her from the dreamless sleep she was in. But she didn't want to wake up. Being awake meant having to deal with whatever drama was thrown her way, and knowing her luck, drama would come in the form of Mr Roid. "Emily." The voice tried again. She mumbled something that wasn't exactly coherent to her. Whoever was on the other side of her quilt had no chance of understanding her. "Emily." The voice sounded closer as if the owner was edging nearer with every second that passed.

"Hmmmm." She managed to mumble. "What?" She croaked.

"You've been asleep far too long, John not to mention Mrs Hudson will more than likely have my head on a platter if I don't wake you up or at the very least check your bandages. If you would be gracious enough to come out from under the covers, I would be most grateful."

"Would you?" She questioned not believing him for a second.

"Yes."

"You're lying." She heard a sigh and felt a weight lift from beside her on her bed that she had not noticed before. Satisfied she had won the conversation - she would not consider whatever just occurred an argument - she turned over onto her side with the hopes of falling asleep once more when a sudden thought caused her eyes to snap wide open and sit up slowly, the quilt falling away from her face and pooling at her waist.

She seemed to remember falling asleep reading Harry Potter. In the Kitchen. How on Earth had she managed to end up waking up in here, snuggled in the warmth only a bed could provide? It was only when she looked around that she realised she wasn't even in her bed. Or her room for that matter. Unless she, in her sluggishness from her injury had purchased a double bed and moved the walls further apart to make the room bigger.

"Oh Good." She ever so slowly turned her head to the doorway. "You are awake." Sherlock took her silence as a good sign and entered the room again.

"Is this your room?" The whole time she had lived here with the boys, she had not once set foot in his bedroom, for fear of what she would find if the fridge was any indication to go by.

"Yes." He answered simply and watched her for a moment as she took in her surroundings.

"It's nice in here."

"Yes." With that, she flopped down, throwing the covers over her head and proceeded to make her torso warm again.

"Why am I in here?"

"You fell asleep at the table, John didn't want to wake you this morning, suggested we carry you up to your bed. I'm far too busy to carry you up there I'm on a case after all, offered to let you sleep in here, though you weren't exactly listening at the time."

"What time is it?"

"Nearly two in the afternoon."

"You don't have time to carry me up to my room, but you have time to stand there and talk to me?"

"Your bandages need changing, John insisted I do it. Though why he can't come home and do it-"

"What about Mrs Hudson?"

"She's busy watching daytime telly." He essentially spat the word. "It would be extremely helpful if you were to resurface so I could change your bandages Emily."

"Do it later." Her eyes were beginning to shut again.

"No."

"But it's warm in here." Another sigh followed by silence. Emily thought she was being let off, he was after all, on a case. Something he couldn't bear to be apart from. Especially if he was getting nowhere. Perhaps he would just wait until John was almost finished at work for the day before trying again.

The warmth that had enveloped Emily suddenly turned cold as the quilt was lifted from on top of her. Had it stayed that way, she would have complained. Loudly. But it didn't stay that way. The warmth covered her once more. But that warmth also came with a certain Consulting Detective and his phone.

"What are you doing?" She tried to sound as unimpressed as she felt but wasn't sure if she succeeded.

"You won't come out from under the quilt to let me change the bandages, so I'm coming under the quilt to change them. Hold this here." He grabbed her hand, lifted it up to just the right height and placed his phone, now lit up with it's light, firmly in her hand.

"You can't be serious."

"You're right. I'm Sherlock."

"Very bloody funny." Emily opened her eyes to find Sherlock rummaging around the first aid box John had insisted the buy. Lying rather close to her. It was only now that the thought of if she had clothes on occurred to her. She cast her eyes downwards to her legs to discover she, thankfully, had the same clothes on from yesterday. But now she was worried if they smelt a little ripe or not. Just as Sherlock began unravelling a lengthy amount of bandages, she came to he conclusion that if she smelt at all, the man beside her would have said something. "Shouldn't I shower first?"

"Do you want a shower?" He sounded bored as he turned on his side to face her.

"Not really." She shrugged.

"I didn't think so. Showering usually means getting out of the bed."

"It's too early for humour."

"It's two in the afternoon." He watched as she simply looked him in the eye.

"It's too early for humour." She deadpanned again as Sherlock moved his hands to the bandage she currently wore and began to unwrap it.

"Head up." Emily slightly lifted her head from the pillow and allowed Sherlock to work.

"This is ridiculous." She sighed and sat up too quickly causing the pain she had recovered from to flare up again briefly. "How do you know how to bandage?" She squeezed her eyes closed at the pain and listened as Sherlock sat up to be within reach of her head again.

"Years of experience as a child." He wrapped the dirty article so no blood was showing through and placed it in the very little room that was between them. She could feel his breath on her face as he began to clean the injury with a wipe.

"Do I still have yellow on my face?" She watched his eyes drop from her head down to her cheek briefly before going back to his work. She was surprised at how gentle he was being.

"Yes."

She had no idea what was left to say. But instead of trying to break the silence, she decided to just study the face before her. His flawless skin that glowed from the light attempting to break through the curtains. The scar that lived just below his lip. She would have to ask how he got that one day. His cheekbones that she would not want to slap for fear she would cause more injury to herself than him. His eyes - She looked to his eyes to find she was already being watched. Apparently she had missed something he had said.

"What?"

"What?" His reply made her all the more confused.

"What did you say? I wasn't listening."

"I didn't say anything."

"Oh. Sorry."

"But I do need you to hold your hair out of the way ." He held the fresh wrappings in his hand. "You don't want it infected from something as ridiculous as your hair. It would also make my job a lot easier, not to mention quicker"

"So you can go back to your case?" She questioned, only now realising she had lost the feeling in her arm from holding herself up. Realising she was still holding the phone, she gently placed it behind her and brushed the hair away from her head. Now she wished she had said yes to the shower. She could feel the dried blood from the night before that Mrs Hudson had missed. Or perhaps it had bled since then.

It was only then that she noticed, even sitting in his bed he was towering over her. She would hate to see Molly's face if she could see them now. Or even if she just heard about this. No. Emily thought to herself, Molly can never find out about this. She wouldn't talk to me for weeks. Possibly months.

"So you can go back to sleep."

"Oh." Sherlock started to wrap her head now.

"What are you thinking?" Sherlock looked down at her, his chin almost touching her forehead.

"Don't you have more important things to be worrying about other than what I'm thinking?"

"Currently getting nowhere with the case. Thought I could do with a break."

"You should eat."

"Don't eat when I'm on a case."

"Are you using the whole bloody thing? Trying to wrap me up like a mummy?"

"I thought I was doing a rather good job." Sherlock stated as he cut the wrapping and secured it. "I wouldn't look in the mirror."

"Why would I look in the mirror?" She yawned.

"To check my handy work."

"If you're worried I might be concerned about the state of my hair, then don't be. It's always a mess this early in the mor- well, when I get up."

"Wake up." He corrected as he collected the dirty items. "Technically you haven't got up yet."

"Whatever." She allowed herself to flop back down onto the pillows. "Your bed is much comfier than mine." She snuggled down .

"I'm aware."

"Of course you are." Sherlock exited the bed and Emily took her chance to hide under the covers once more. She wasn't sure how long it took for Sherlock to re-enter the room. She wasn't even aware that it had happened until a hand slid between her body and the bed. "What are you dong?!" She all but squealed in surprise.

"Phone." The Consulting Detective moved his hand away and waved his phone in her face. A cheeky smirk plastered across his features as he left the room.

"Arse." Emily mumbled to the underside of the covers once she had covered herself again.

Emily, stretching her arms over her head, made her way into the living room to find Sherlock turn away from the boxes that still crowded the room to face the bookshelves. "Still looking?" Upon realising she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, she had slipped from the covers of Sherlock's bed and made her way upstairs to change out of her slightly bloodied clothes. She had noted that he hadn't even glanced up at her as she checked to see what he was doing.

"Obviously." Sherlock replied to her now as she made her way into the kitchen to make herself a drink.

"Do you want a drink?" She shouted as the kettle boiled. But the only answer she received was a book slamming back into it's place on the shelf. Or at least, that's what she presumed the bang she had just heard to be. Deciding she was peckish, she opened up a packet of Wotsits and began to much greedily on them as she added the correct amount of milk and sugar to her mug, stirred the concoction and waited a few minutes for it to cool down.

Taking the first sip, she wondered to herself if the boys had been awake all night searching for the right book. Trying to ignore the wave of guilt she felt take over her at remembering that she had fallen asleep at the very table she was facing. She would have to make it up to them somehow. But exactly how she was going to do that she wasn't sure.

Picking up her mug, she made her way into the living room, careful to avoid knocking over any boxes and took a seat on John's chair. "Not getting anywhere then?" She questioned in a attempt to start a conversation.

"Does it look like it?" He snapped not bothering to look at her.

"Well, pardon me." Emily sat cosily on John's chair, legs tucked up underneath her as she watched Sherlock from the corner of her eye as he continued to scan his bookshelves as if she hadn't just 'disturbed' him.

"A book that everybody would own." He mumbled to himself. Emily had seen that particular section of his bookshelf and couldn't help but wonder who on Earth would also own those particular books. It was after all, a rather odd collection. "Fifteen. Entry one." He turned his head towards Emily so quickly she barely had time to look back down at the mug of tea she held in her hand before he noticed her watching. "Thank you so much for all your help Emily." He muttered to her, laying the sarcasm on so thick she could practically cut it with a knife.

"You're the one that suggested I slip some pyjamas on and take a seat in John's chair. You never said anything about helping." She took another sip of the cooling liquid, managing to avoid the scrutinising look Sherlock threw at her. She drew lazy patterns on the skin of her leg and opted to ignore Sherlock as he continued with his search for the correct book. Drawing these lazy patterns was the only way she could stop herself from ogling his forearms he had put on show at some point since he had visited her. She had never been particularly attracted to forearms before, but she was willing to change that the moment his were on display. 'No.' She scolded herself. 'I do not find any part of Sherlock Holmes attractive.' Had they been on display earlier? She hadn't noticed those earlier.

"But we both know that's not quite true." She could hear the voice of Jim in her mind.

"I suggested you get changed before you started to smell I never said anything about you sitting down and having a cup of tea." She didn't hear him as she tried to get thoughts of her childhood friend out of her thoughts. "I need to get some air. We're going out tonight."

"What?" Emily was snapped from her thoughts by Sherlock's words. Only to find he wasn't even talking to her, or in fact looking at her.

"Actually, I've, er, got a date." Emily turned round in the chair to look at John as he smiled smugly. She hadn't even heard him come in.

"Ooh, is this the 'she' you were talking about the other day?"

"It might be."

"What?" Sherlock interrupted them.

"It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun."

"It's also a type of fruit." Emily added somewhat cheekily, but she was ignored.

"That's what I was suggesting."

"No it wasn't...at least I hope not."

Sherlock looked and sounded rather sulky as he answered. "Where are you taking her?"

"Er, cinema."

"Oh, dull, boring, predictable."

Emily rolled her eyes. Was Sherlock only talking like this because John was going somewhere without him? Emily watched as he walked towards her and John, taking something from his pocket as he moved. "Why don't you try this?" Emily knelt up to take a look at what the slip of paper said. What looked to be a torn corner of a poster advertised the Yellow Dragon Circus along with a telephone number for the Box Office. "In London for one night only."

John chuckled before offering the paper back to the Consulting Detective.

"Thanks, but I don't come to you for dating advice." There was a pause as silence filled the air for a moment. Emily took the opportunity to finish the last dregs of her tea, but the conversation hadn't finished. "Emily." The girl in question nearly snorted the liquid out of her nose in surprise but instead ended up in a wild coughing fit. John gave her back a few good slaps as she tried to regain her breath. After a few moments, she was successful. Was he seriously asking her for dating advice?

"What?"

"Dating advice?" She looked up at him with a slightly panicked look on her face. "Please?" He sounded desperate.

"Why would you turn to me for dating advice?" She wiped her chin in case any tea was dribbling it's way down to drip onto her pyjama top.

"Just..." He sighed as he tried to find the right words. "If it were you I was taking out" Emily missed Sherlock stiffen as she was looking at John, but the Doctor noticed. "Where would you want me to take you?" She took a moment to collect her thoughts. If she were honest with herself, if she were going on a date with John, she felt the destination and therefore the activity wouldn't particularly matter. She would be with John. Therefore whatever they ended up doing she believed she would enjoy. She shook her head of such things. She only thought that way because she knew John so well. If she new John like his date for the night did, she was most certain she would not feel that way.

"Well...It's just that...Cinema sort of suggests you want to sit in a darkened room with her and make out or...other things...basically not watch the film. You know how the old songs go." She paused for a moment to think. "Taking her to a restaurant, well if it were me, it would be awkward. Not so much the eating part. Just the end when it comes to paying the bill and leaving, because then where do you go? Do you go your separate ways? Do you stay together a little longer? What do you do if you decide to go separate ways? Do you kiss? Snog? Hug? It's a lot to think about quite frankly and I wouldn't need that sort of stress on a date. Is this helping at all, or is this just a load of old waffle?"

By this point, Sherlock had focused all his attention on her as if the ramble she had started was the most fascinating thing he had ever heard. John had taken up the arm of his chair. Also watching her as she spoke. Though his expression was one of confusion as he thought about the words he had just listened to.

"No. No no that's great. What about...Bowling?"

"Oh now bowling! That's completely different." A smile took over John's face, pleased he was finally getting the right idea if her enthusiasm was anything to go by. "If it's as loud as the last time I went, then you won't be able to hear much of each other talking. But then the last time I went was when I was rather little and the group of girls out on a Hen night on the lane next to us were drunk and giggling rather loudly. I think the only good thing about that evening was that I won the game. But I think my brother let me to be honest." She failed to noticed the look of amusement cross Sherlock's face at her babbling. "Also, the guy in the lane on the other side of us broke his ankle on the sticky floor. I wouldn't recommend it."

"Right." John smiled in that annoyed way of his. "Then what would you recommend?"

"I'd say not actually going on this date, but you seem a bit keen." She looked round at the paper still in Sherlock's grasp. She reached forward and gently took it from his hand and held it out to John between two fingers.

"Are you suggesting the Circus?" Emily smiled at Sherlock but only received an eyebrow raising.

"The worst thing that could happen here is one of you getting pulled onto the stage and being made to be part of the show. Or someone spilling a drink on you. Give me some time I can probably think of more things." John sighed in frustration and looked to Sherlock, taking the slip of paper from between Emily's fingers.

"What do I need to do?" He relented. Sherlock jumped up from his chair instantly and snatched the paper from the Doctor in one hand and grabbing his phone in the other.

"Go and get ready for your date. I can book the tickets." It was not just John that became suspicious at his actions. The Doctor opened his mouth to speak but Emily beat him to it.

"Go and get ready John I'll find out what he's up to." She whispered as Sherlock entered the numbers into his mobile. But John did not move. Instead, he watched the Detective just as keenly as Emily. Confused as to why he was being this supportive when moments before he had sounded as if he was sulking at the mere thought of John going out on a date.

"Sherlock." She went back to her normal level of noise trying to get the man's attention. It worked as Sherlock spun to look at her as she stood from the chair. "What are you up to? What's - " But she had no time to finish her questioning as Sherlock had covered her mouth with his hand.

"Hi." He started, sounding unusually friendly. "I'd like to book two tickets for tonight." There was a pause as whoever he was speaking to replied. "Holmes." Another pause as Emily wondered if he really needed to keep his hand over her lips for that long. It wasn't as if she was going to shout in his other ear. That was to childish, even for her. She'd stopped that habit when she was ten. "Great. Thank you. Bye." Sherlock lost the smile instantly even before he had hung up from the call. It was almost like it physically pained him. "All sorted." He informed John.

"Great." The Doctor smiled as if nothing was wrong. But Emily couldn't shake the feeling that all was not as it seemed. "Emily, would you mind helping me pick something to wear?"

"What?" She questioned, turning her head so quickly to look at him that she managed to get hair in her mouth.

"Something to wear?"

She spat the hair out in an undignified manner. "You know I'm no good with that rubbish."

"Yes. But you might be some help. And any help is welcomed. I doubt I'm going to get any off him." They both looked to Sherlock who had gone back to flicking through random books on the bookshelf.

"Bu-"

"Emily, you heard the man, he needs help."

"For fuck's sake." She mumbled under her breath as she got up from her seat and headed towards the door.

"It's not like I'm grounding you Em." John chuckled as he followed.

"You might as well be."

"Who did your bandages by the way? Your hair looks like a rats nest."

"You really know how to make a girl feel special don't you?" She opened John's bedroom door and instantly flopped on top of his bed.

"You're really wearing that?" Sherlock spoke up from his chair as the pair descended the stairs.

"You haven't even looked at him yet." Emily pointed out.

"No. I don't need to. He hasn't even changed."

"I warned him I was no good at the whole 'fashion' thing but he insisted he show me all of his shirts before I informed him I actually liked the one he already had on." But Sherlock wasn't listening. He was watching John as the man searched for his key. There was a certain twinkle in the eyes of Sherlock Holmes that worried Emily. Nothing good could come out of that twinkle.

"Hmm. You couldn't have told me that before I'd emptied my shirt draw?"

"I tried but you wouldn't let me." She shrugged and moved to lean against the doorway, but John wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a one armed hug.

"Right. Well, don't wait up." John squeezed her against his side and placed a brief kiss against her forehead which she playfully wiped off with the palm of her hand once he had moved backwards. John chuckled at her childishness and descended the stairs. Apparently the message of not waiting up had been for Sherlock too, but the idea of Sherlock being tucked up in bed when John returned was laughable when he was on a case.

"Good Luck." Emily called to the Doctor as she heard the front door open.

"Thanks Em." She rushed to the window to wave enthusiastically. She smiled when she found John walking backwards to wave up at her like he been expecting it.

"I need to get some air." Sherlock stated at her. She turned to discover him sitting in his chair not looking at her. Hands in prayer position beneath his chin. "We're going out tonight." He repeated the words he had said to John.

"But that means getting dressed. And Showered."

"Yes." A moment passed as Emily merely stared at the dark curls that ruled the head of the Consulting Detective. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Had she been any other woman, she would have become rather excited, practically giddy with the feeling, at the prospect of going on a date with Sherlock Holmes. But she wasn't any other woman. She was Emily Cooper, she lived with the man and she knew for a fact that he wasn't the slightest bit interested in dating anyone. Especially her. Now she truly was suspicious.

"It's for this case isn't it? You're going to drag me somewhere that has something to do with your case."

"No it isn't."

"I know when you're lying Sherlock."

"It isn't." He insisted though she noted he still hadn't turned round to look at her. "Go and get dressed into something that covers more than just the tops of your thighs, it's not exactly going to be warm out there."

"What about my bandages? I don't particularly fancy going out again with those on." The line 'You should see the other guy' really only worked when there was blood on the speaker.

"I'll cover your injury with a plaster instead."

"Do I actually have a choice?"

"Mmm, not really."

"Fine." Emily snapped and all but stormed back to the stairs. "But don't expect me to enjoy myself."

Sherlock grinned to himself as he watched her legs disappear up the stairs. It would be a shame for those to vanish beneath a pair of jeans. But he did rather enjoy the fact that she often wore those particular pair of pyjamas around the flat where only he could see them. And John. But John was more prone to Emily's chest area especially when she leaned forward.

"Please tell me you didn't." Emily all but begged as she tugged on the arm of Sherlock's she had linked with her own. She had just caught sight of the back of John's head.

"Didn't what?"

"Didn't take me out on a 'date'" She used her fingers to make quotation marks "to crash John's." She received no response. "This is for your bloody case isn't it?"

They ascended the stairs and made their way closer to the Doctor and his date. But still Sherlock didn't answer her. It appeared as if he wasn't even listening to her.

"And then I phoned back and got one for myself as well." Sherlock informed the couple. No. Of course Sherlock hadn't been listening to her.

She noted the look of disbelief on John's face as he turned. The guilt that overtook Emily caused her to look at the floor intently as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Had she known Sherlock was taking her to crash John's evening she would have adamantly refused to get changed.

"I'm Sherlock." The Detective was holding his free hand out for the lady before them to shake. "This is my...companion for the evening Emily." Her eyebrows raised with confusion at his choice of words, but she looked up at the woman and tried for a believable smile as she too offered her free hand ready for the woman to shake after she had taken Sherlock's.

"Er, Hi." The pretty lady before them answered. Emily caught John's stare, trying to silently tell him this had not been her idea and if she could she would go back in time and change things. She was only half sure she succeeded as John turned away in exasperation.

"Hello." The smile he gave her was clearly fake. But it was also short lived as he instantly turned and walked away. Dragging Emily along with him.

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