Author's note: So...rating went up... This chapter is a little short but I'm finally done with the setup and can start moving things forward. So stay tuned for the next installment ;)

London, Great Britain

Five months ago

Samantha gripped the headboard tightly. She was close, so close. Tension began to build between her legs, her muscles spasming with each sensation. She shut her eyes and waited to be taken over the edge... Almost there... Almost there...

Suddenly, intrusively, Moriarty appeared in her mind's eye: perfectly groomed, brown eyes piercing hers, closing in for a kiss...

No!

She shook him out, frustrated with herself for allowing him to get into her head again. It had been a while since she had such an invasive thought. She was doing so well. This had been her first sexual experience since Moriarty and she was annoyed -angry- that he still had this hold over her.

The sensation between her legs quelled and her partner resurfaced from beneath the duvet.

"What's wrong?" she asked, obviously sensing Samantha's sudden lack of enthusiasm.

"Nothing, Betty," she said running her finger's through her partner's ink black hair, "You probably just wore me out last night is all." Betty seemed unconvinced but she nonetheless smiled and pulled herself up towards the pillow so that she was now lying beside her.

"I guess you'll just have to learn to keep up with me then, huh?" she said, kissing Samantha's shoulder.

Samantha couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She had met someone she liked for the first time since moving to London, someone she thought she could have a good thing with, and yet she thought about someone else the first time they slept together. What the hell was wrong with her?

"We can just...chill out if you want," Betty said, seemingly picking up on her preoccupation.

Samantha gave a half hearted smile, wrapped her arm around the woman and held her close. She enjoyed her time spent with Betty and though this was their first time together she already feared she was screwing it up.

"So what's Betty short for anyway?" she asked, eager to keep her mind from pessimistic thoughts, "Elizabeth?"

"Betina," she sighed, "My parents were old school."

"Betina Darling," Samantha tested with some mirth,"Catchy. Sounds posh."

Betty's style was mildly inspired by 90's grunge so 'posh' was something she was far from. Considering Samantha's previous romance maybe she was trying to avoid posh.

"Stop laughing," said Betty.

"I'm not laughing."

"You so are!"

Betty sprang on her then wrestling her arms until Samantha gave in and was pinned to the pillow. She swooped down to kiss her - a soft lingering kiss - and Samantha felt her guilt and anxiety wash away. Betty deepened the kissed and moved her hands up so that her finger's interlocked with Samantha's. Normal. This is what normal is like.

Somewhere from beneath the layers of garments, that had been strewn around the room in last night's passion, a phone rang. The ringtone caused Samantha to groan. It was Mycroft.

"Leave it," Betty said, tracing kisses down Samantha's jawline.

"I have to get this," she said apologetically.

"Nuh uh." The kissing reached her neck.

"It's my boss," she sighed, feeling the desire to push Mycroft off a bridge right now.

"Nope," Betty responded, "I finally get you to myself. I'm not letting you get away so easy."

Something crossed Samantha's mind then and she pulled away. Betty retreated slightly, concern evident in her big blue eyes.

"Betty," Samantha sighed, "I really like you but I'm not exactly looking for a serious relationship right now."

Betty withdrew entirely, vexation painting her face. The phone continued to ring.

"When did I ever give you the impression that I wanted a serious relationship?" she said.

Crap.

"Betty, no that's not what I-"

"OK, fine I get it," she sighed, "If you wanted me gone you should have just said so. You didn't have to make up such bullshit." She slid out of bed and began to dress.

"Betty, I don't-"

"I said it's fine! We haven't known each other that long and I came on to strongly. It's OK. It's my fault."

The quiver in Betty's voice indicated that she was hurt. What happened? How did this go so badly so fast? Samantha tried to say something but as usual her inability to accept that she had hurt someone had rendered her speechless.

"Answer your damn phone," Betty said, gathering her things, "I'll see myself out." She left brusquely without so much as a goodbye.

Samantha was stunned for a moment. What just happened? Where did she go wrong? The phone was still ringing. Frustrated, Samantha sprang out of bed and dug through the array of clothing on the floor until she found her phone in her jeans pocket.

"What!?" she snapped when she answered.

"My, you are grumpy in the morning," came Mycroft's voice.

"Sorry," Samantha sighed. She ran a hand through her hair and sat at the edge of the bed. "You just caught me at a bad time."

"I hope that doesn't mean you're not up for work. Because I have a job for you if you're willing to take it."

"Yes," she responded quickly, "God yes. I'm going out of my mind not working." She needed a break from normal. It seemed like she wasn't at all good at it.

"Excellent! Come meet me at my office to discuss details. I'll have someone pick you up in an hour." With that he hung up.

OK. Work. Good. Maybe her day can be better from here. She looked at her phone, tempted to text Betty. What would she say? Should she apologise? She didn't even know what to apologise for. She couldn't understand Betty's reaction at all. Maybe it was best to not make things worse. She decided to dial a different number instead.

"Hello, Dr. Matheson speaking," came the receiving voice.

"Hey, Doc, it's me," said Samantha, "Do you have room in your schedule to pencil me in this evening?"

"What happened?" Dr. Matheson's voice drawled.

"I...think I screwed up."