This series is based on the premise that Rose Tyler never left Pete's World. Instead, there she met...had adventures...and fell in love with the fascinating detective who existed only as a fictional character in her old universe.
A Nice Place to Start
John had decided to spend the evening with Sherlock while Mary went shopping and had dinner with Janine. He was really enjoying married life, but both he and Mary felt that they also needed the occasional evening apart to pursue their own interests and to keep up with their friends – especially before the baby came. To be honest, even if he was not the easiest man to get along with, John missed had Sherlock and the adventures that they usually had together.
Unfortunately, Sherlock was in a difficult mood on this particular night. John assumed that it was because the detective had not had a decent case in a while, but Sherlock would not explain. He just frequently checked his mobile for texts and brooded because whatever he looked for was not there. In fact, Sherlock had not said anything about what he had done during the last few weeks while John and Mary were on their honeymoon or even since they had been back. When John finally asked Mrs. Hudson, she had told him that Sherlock had barely left the flat during that time – at least as far as she knew. When John looked at the state of the lounge and kitchen areas that he could actually see, he thought that it was probably true. Well, whatever had or had not happened before, it was time for that to change!
"Let's go get something to eat!" he finally exclaimed in exasperation which only increased when Sherlock just stood up and headed for the door. He did not comment or complain or anything. That was not like the Sherlock he knew, so John tried again. "What are you in the mood for?" he asked. Sherlock just shrugged and did not seem very interested in either food or conversation. "Sherlock, you are going to have to snap out of this funk. Come on, maybe we will run into something interesting while we are out. Doctor's orders!" John just wanted to get some fresh air and food into his friend. Therefore, he had no idea how prophetic his words would soon prove to be.
The weather was nice, so John made the decision to walk – especially since Sherlock was still in an apathetic state. As they made their way across town, John filled the silence with stories about his honeymoon, observations about his patients, and random thoughts about the universe – even aliens. John felt sure that they could not exist. That last bit finally got a response from Sherlock - even if it was just a sardonic snort of amusement.
Before John could comment on his friend's broken silence, however, a large, dark haired man came running out of nowhere and knocked him down to the ground. He kept running, though, and did not even glance over to see if John was okay. Sherlock frowned after the man and noticed that something was not right about the way he moved, but even as observant as he was, he could not quite figure out the problem. Instead, he shook his head and reached down to help John up. It was at that moment that he noticed that someone was in hot pursuit of the fleeing man.
Sherlock saw a flash of yellow and blue run past him and his focus narrowed as he saw who it was. "Rose!" he shouted, but the person did not stop.
John gave him a puzzled look, but Sherlock was already running after her. Therefore, John had no choice but to follow. While he ran, he guessed that dinner was going to have to wait, but mentally patted himself on the back for the fact that at least he had succeeded in his goal to make sure that Sherlock got some exercise. However, he could not help but to wonder at the same time who in the world this "Rose" person was and why she was important enough to elicit this kind of energetic response from his friend. As John followed Sherlock around the corner of the street they were on, they both found themselves in a long blind alley where sounds of a scuffle and loud grunts came from the other end.
"Rose!" Sherlock repeated in a concerned tone and they both quickly darted forward only to stop in amazement by the sight before them.
John saw that a young blonde woman had the unknown man pinned down on the ground with a foot on his neck. They seemed to be engaged in a heated conversation, but it was in a language that John could not identify. He looked over at Sherlock, but the man just shrugged and kept his eye on the woman as he tried to decide whether he should interfere or not. However, just then the woman looked up, saw him, and gave a wide surprised smile despite her situation. That seemed to break his indecision and he spoke to her.
"Hello, Miss Tyler," Sherlock said in a surprisingly pleasant voice that caused John to glance over at him in astonishment. "Do you require any assistance?"
"Fancy meeting you here, Sherlock!" The woman, whose name was apparently Rose Tyler, replied cheekily. She was barely even out of breath, even though she had obviously run hard, fought with a man twice her size, and now stood rather nonchalantly upon his neck. "You don't happen to have a pair of cuffs on you, though, do you? I seem to be out of uniform." She gestured to her clothing.
She wore the blue leather jacket again, but this time she had paired it with a white blouse, black trousers, and black trainers. From the professional look of the outfit, Sherlock deduced that she had worked in her office for the day instead of out in the field. In fact, he further surmised that she had only recently left her desk...and had slipped on the trainers for the walk home. At any rate, Sherlock found that he was uncharacteristically glad to see her.
"To my regret, I must have left them in my other trousers. I will endeavor to be better prepared next time," he still replied calmly.
However, there was a glint in his eye and a twist to his lips that caused John looked over at him again in amazement and confusion. First, Sherlock had been pleasant and now he was making jokes – all after he had been in such a terrible mood all evening! What was going on with him? Who was this woman and how did Sherlock know her? Why did he act so odd around her?
"How about your scarf then?" the woman asked, and the question unintentionally broke into John's musings. When Sherlock gave her a hesitant look, however, she sighed. "Oi! Come on! I will buy you another one for Christmas!" she insisted. John continued to look on in surprise while Sherlock actually reached up to pull off the requested scarf. Nevertheless, before he could hand it over to the mysterious woman, the man on the ground took advantage of her distraction.
He reached up, grabbed her leg, flipped her over, and moved to kick her in the head. Before either Sherlock or John could react, however, Rose grabbed his foot. Then, in one fluid motion, she used his momentum to pull herself back up and then punch him in the stomach. The large man staggered back, before he swung at her. She sidestepped the punch, though, and instead launched herself into a roundhouse kick which connected solidly with the side of his head. The force of it caused him to fall back against the wall with a thud and he slid down, completely passed out for the time being.
The whole thing was over so quickly, that John could only stare in open mouthed shock at the scene in front of him. When he finally felt like he could move again, he looked over at Sherlock to see what he had to say about what they had just witnessed. However, his friend was focused completely on Rose and his eyes were alight with what could only be called admiration. John felt a bit of that himself when Rose bent down to check on the man first before she walked over to them.
"Well," said Rose calmly, "I guess I won't be needing that scarf after all." Sherlock looked slightly ashamed when he thought that he could have saved her some trouble if he had not hesitated to give it to her. He then noticed that she favored her right hand a bit as she dug her mobile out of her pocket. That really made him feel guilty.
"You're hurt," he said softly as he took her hand. Both the gentle words and action caught John's attention. Before he could offer his services, however, she shrugged and spoke again.
"I probably sprained it since that guy was nothing but hard muscle! Don't worry. I'll put some ice on it when I get home, yeah?" She gave Sherlock's hand a quick squeeze before she moved a step away. "I do need to make a call, however," she said as she met his eyes. "After all, this is a special case that requires delicate handling," she emphasized. Sherlock nodded to show his understanding of what she really meant but could not actually say – especially since John was there, too. The doctor, however, just continued to look back and forth between the two of them with confusion. He really had no idea of what was going on.
"Therefore," she continued, "if you'll excuse me, and keep an eye on that one," she paused to point to the man on the ground, "I'll be right over there for a minute." She finally looked over at John. "And I definitely want to meet your friend when I get back." Her dazzling smile made a brief appearance before she walked a few feet away.
"Wh…what the hell is going on, Sherlock? Who is she?" John asked when he finally found his voice again. "Police? Military? Special forces?"
Sherlock ignored his friend's questions, however, as they both walked over to the prone man, instead. John automatically bent down to give him a cursory examination. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "He is all muscle! How in the world did she take him down by herself?"
The man was out cold, but Sherlock decided to use his scarf to tie his hands up with an intricate knot anyway – just in case. When he stood up, he turned back to the man who still watched him and waited for some answers. "I think that you should go home, John," he told him seriously. "I will stay here and help Miss Tyler until her back up arrives - not that she needs it!" he added as his mouth twisted into a proud smile. "I will explain it all to you tomorrow."
"Like hell I will, Sherlock!" replied John tersely. "I may not know what is going on here, but I do know how you are. You're a trouble magnet! Therefore, I will stay here as long as it takes - just in case you need me!"
"No, I'm not. Sherlock is here," they both heard the woman say into her phone at that moment - which distracted them from their tense conversation. "No, it wasn't planned," she continued, "and there is another friend here, as well…No, I don't know yet…Please just bring me a kit and I will handle it myself, if necessary. After all, I'm on foot and in street clothes right now and I don't have anything with me." Rose ended the conversation after she gave directions to the alley where they were located to whomever was on the other end of the line. She then walked back over to the two men who waited for her. She favored them both with another dazzling smile as she offered her hand to John. As he took it, he could not help but to notice both how pretty she was and how firm her grip was, too!
"You must be John Watson," she exclaimed with such genuine delight that John just could not help but to grin back at her. "I'm very pleased to meet you! As I told Sherlock when we first met, I love your blog and I think that you're an amazing writer. In fact, I would love to speak with you further - especially to hear about some of the more embarrassing bits that you left out about this one here. After all, he can't always be so calm, cool, and collected, can he?" she asked cheerfully as she bumped Sherlock's shoulder playfully with her own.
Her smile faded a bit then as her tone suddenly became more serious and professional. "I know that you probably have a lot of questions, too…and up to this point, we are in the clear. You haven't actually seen anything that you shouldn't have. Unfortunately, I am afraid that most of it from now on will be classified. Being a military man yourself, I am sure that you understand that. Therefore, I truly am sorry, but you can't hang around for the rest of this." John looked like he wanted to argue at that point, but Rose continued.
"However," she emphasized, "I haven't had dinner yet and after all that exercise, I am simply starving. Therefore, would you be willing to pick up some takeout for us all…and Sherlock and I will join you back at his flat later? Then I will tell you whatever I can and answer some of those questions that are probably zooming around in your brain right now."
"Why does Sherlock get to stay?" John asked in a petulant tone – and immediately hated himself for sounding like his broody detective friend on a bad day.
"Because I might need him," Rose replied simply and shrugged. "Plus, he has the necessary clearance for all of this." John looked over at his friend to see what he thought. However, Sherlock's eyes were still on Rose…and he seemed quite pleased with the turn of events.
"Please, John!" Rose added. The doctor in him noticed how exhausted she suddenly looked and he realized that he could not turn her down. She obviously needed rest…and probably some food, too. Plus, he and Sherlock still had not eaten, either.
Therefore, John agreed to meet them both at the Baker Street flat in an hour. As he prepared to leave, however, he was surprised to find himself as the recipient of a quick grateful hug from Rose. Nevertheless, it was an even greater surprise to see the flash of jealousy in Sherlock's eyes at the action.
Is Sherlock jealous? Of me and Rose? For a hug? Why? What is Rose to him? he could not help but to wonder. It was such a strange turn of events because Sherlock usually seemed to be so devoid of the baser emotions. He did not seem to feel things like jealousy because he normally did not have anything to feel jealous about.
Had all of that changed in the last few weeks? How long has he known this woman? John shook his head since he just did not know what to think. Instead, he just threw up in hand in a brief farewell and started to walk back down to the entrance of the alley. He turned around just once in time to see Sherlock take Rose's injured hand and examine it gently while the two of them had their heads bent close in conversation.
It seemed to be an almost intimate moment between the two of them. However, intimate and Sherlock were not usually words that he would use together. Consequently, John was almost glad to have an hour to himself to get his thoughts organized while Rose and Sherlock finished up with that scene in the alley. In fact, he actually welcomed the chance to think about all that he had seen and heard so that he would be able to ask the right questions later.
He had just cleared the alley, when he was pulled out of his musings by the arrival of a black nondescript Land Rover which pulled up to it and backed in – thereby effectively blocking the entrance. Two men, in black military style clothing, climbed out and immediately headed down the alley he had just exited. John recognized the likelihood that they were probably the back up that Rose had requested. Even if they were not, though, it was clear that Rose could take care of herself…and probably Sherlock, too!
As soon as John left, Rose looked at Sherlock uncertainly, almost shyly, and bent closer to him. "I am happy to see you, Sherlock, but it's been over a week now. You should have called me – or at least texted me."
"I know," he answered quietly, as he took her hand again to examine it for further injuries, "but I didn't know what to say."
"I find that Hello is always a nice place to start," she replied softly with a smile as she placed her uninjured hand on his arm.
"Hello," he said then - just to make her smile. However, he knew that it was not enough. "I did want to call," he admitted, not quite meeting her eyes. "I may have even thrown a few things."
"I may have, too." Rose admitted, as well, and he looked up to see her eyes sparkling – at him! He smiled wryly back at her.
Just then a black Land Rover drove up to the alley and the two men who exited it joined them. One was the Scot, Jamie, whom Sherlock remembered from the morgue. However, he did not know the identity of the blond man…but apparently Rose did.
"Jake!" she shouted in surprise as she separated from Sherlock and ran up to the man in question. He caught her up in a hug and swung her around. "When did you get back from Cardiff?" she asked him happily when he finally put her down again.
"Just today!" he replied. "I had barely made it to HQ before Jamie here received an emergency call from one Miss Tyler. Since it had been awhile, I couldn't resist rescuing that particular damsel in distress once again!" he said in an obviously fond tone as he grinned down at her while his arm remained around her waist. Sherlock observed their interaction closely and, therefore, he realized, partially from his mannerism…and partially from the amount of product in his hair…that Jake seemed to be gay. However, the detective still thought seriously about going over there to remove that arm for him.
"Distress? Hardly!" sputtered Rose, still smiling broadly even as she pretended to be indignant at the whole idea. "I'll have you know that I caught the very large bad guy by myself - on foot, mind you - without my work kit and, therefore, required just a bit of assistance with transport! At any rate, never mind about all of that. Right now, I want for you to meet Sherlock! You, too, Jamie – since you didn't officially meet him last time – mainly because you didn't think he would get to remember any of it!" She laughed and introduced her colleagues to the detective who shook their hands and nodded, but did not say anything.
"The strong and silent type, then?" asked Jake appreciatively. "Don't worry. This one'll talk enough for both of you!" He indicated Rose, who just laughed at him again and bumped his shoulder with her own as she told him to behave.
…
Since John had left, and there were no other witnesses, the clean up went quickly as Rose explained the situation to Sherlock and the two Torchwood agents. The man whom she had subdued was actually a humanoid Slathling and was basically an interstellar drug dealer. Unfortunately, the wares he peddled were fatal to humans, and several bodies had already been left in his wake. Rose had just happened to see him complete a transaction when she noticed his unusual heavy gait – due to the higher gravity on his native planet (Sherlock thought that must have been what he had noticed, as well – even though he did not recognize what it was at the time). At any rate, she immediately identified him as the Slathling for whom Torchwood had been on the lookout.
The alien criminal in question started to regain consciousness when they loaded him into the vehicle, so they secured him in a more appropriate manner…and Jake smirked as he handed the scarf back to Sherlock. Jamie and Jake were going to take the Slathing back to HQ, process him, and put him in a cell. Rose, of course, told them that she would wait to deal with the paperwork until the morning, at which time she would contact the Slath ambassador to arrange for extradition, as well. When she saw the question in his eyes, Rose explained to Sherlock that Torchwood always tried…whenever possible…to let the native governments deal with their own people in order to avoid cultural complications and prevent interstellar conflicts.
"Plus," Jamie added in his rolling brogue, "those who lead a life of crime on Earth are usually found to be criminals back on their home planet, as well. In fact, they often have outstanding arrest warrants waiting for them back on their native soil - which is why they have usually run away to Earth in the first place. Therefore, it all works out in the end."
After Sherlock nodded at the sensible explanation, Rose proceeded to say good night to her colleagues and declined their subsequent offer of a ride. Instead, she told them that Sherlock lived nearby and that the two of them were going to have dinner at his place. The two Torchwood men exchanged a knowing glance at her statement. They did not ask for particulars, however, and she did not offer to explain.
John had picked up fish and chips from the place around the corner and stopped at the store for some fizzy drinks since he knew that Sherlock probably did not have anything (with the exception of some possible body parts) in his fridge. As he returned to the Baker Street flat, he was greeted by Mrs. Hudson.
"Oh! Hello, John, dear. Where is Sherlock?" she asked kindly. "Didn't you two leave together?"
"He'll be back in a few minutes, Mrs. Hudson. He had something he had to do with a…friend." He paused thoughtfully before he continued. "Have you ever met a Rose Tyler, by chance? Do you know who she is?"
"Rose Tyler?" Mrs. Hudson repeated contemplatively. "Rose Tyler…hmm…Wait! Do you mean the daughter of Pete Tyler - the Vitex health drink man? I remember that there was a big to do about her in the papers when she came back to London a few years ago."
John thought about the kickass woman that he had just met in a back alley and of whom Sherlock seemed so uncharacteristically fond. "Wait a minute!" he almost shouted when he realized what Mrs. Hudson had just said. "Are you telling me that Rose Tyler is some kind of rich spoiled heiress?"
That description did not tally up to the woman he had just encountered...not at all. However, he could barely remember the media explosion that surrounded the girl since it had occurred several years ago - especially since she seemed to have left the limelight almost as quickly as she had entered it. Consequently, he just shook his head in disbelief when Mrs. Hudson shrugged.
How many more surprises could one evening hold? he wondered. However, he should have realized after all of these years that anything (or anybody!) that Sherlock was involved with would never be simple!
"Is she a client, Dear?" Ms. Hudson asked him, but John just shrugged. He honestly did not know who...or what...Rose Tyler was! Ms. Hudson just reminded him to make sure that he locked up when he left since she was going to bed. He agreed and gave the motherly landlady a goodnight kiss on the cheek before he made his way up to his former flat.
…
Rose and Sherlock walked quickly, hand-in-hand, back to Baker Street because they knew that John was waiting for them with dinner. Sherlock, especially, was relieved that things seemed to be okay between them. He had been uneasy? worried? afraid? He did not know what to call it, but he had been well aware that he had almost messed up when he had not contacted her. Here she was, though, by his side, anyway. That particular thought caused some sort of feeling to swell up inside of him. He did not know exactly know what it was…or what to do about it…but he decided that he liked it, anyway.
Regardless, they had to deal with John first. During their walk, they had decided that they would only tell him the basics of what had happened without bringing up the topic of aliens at all – for the time being, at any rate. Sherlock knew that John was completely honest and reliable, but he also knew that Rose would like to know him better before she trusted him with her secrets. He felt a surge of pride course through him at the thought that she had apparently decided that he was trustworthy on the very same night that they had met - instead of just wiping his memories to be on the safe side – and he squeezed her hand at the memory. The unexpected motion caused her to look up at him in surprise. When she proceeded to give him that unique tongue-touched smile in response, though, his heart seemed to jump a little in his chest at the sight.
Sentiment? he wondered briefly before he dismissed the unlikely thought completely.
…
John had cleared off the coffee table, so that he could have a relatively sanitary place to set the food down (after he had completely ruled out the disaster area that was otherwise known as the kitchen table) and wondered if he should try and clean up the rest of the lounge a bit, as well. However, he decided against it since he did not live there anymore. He did wonder what Rose would think of the chaos, but he just shrugged at the thought. She was obviously already familiar with Sherlock. Therefore, she had to realize that the man had certain idiosyncrasies. A tendency towards untidiness had always been one of them.
Finally, almost an hour had passed since John had left the alley. In fact, he had just collapsed down into his old chair and left Mary a text message to let her know that he would be late, when he heard two sets of footsteps on the stairs. Even though he knew that it would be Sherlock and Rose, he still turned around when the door opened. Accordingly, he watched, just a bit stunned, when the two of them entered the room - still holding hands!
Since he could not help but to stare at their clasped hands, he also noticed that Rose's right hand (the one that Sherlock was not holding) was swollen and much larger than it should be. The doctor in him took over and he knew that it should be treated immediately. Therefore, he jumped right up from his chair and went to her.
"Go get a bag of ice out of the freezer," he told Sherlock firmly. When his friend looked at him questioningly, he just pointed at Rose's injured hand. A flash of dismay and concern crossed over Sherlock's face when the detective saw the swelling and Rose rushed to let him know that it was not that bad.
"I've certainly had worse!" she informed him.
The doctor did not like the sound of that one bit. However, he had seen firsthand how hard Rose could fight, so he did not doubt that she had experienced serious injuries before. Nevertheless, her hand still had to hurt. Consequently, he helped her to take her jacket off and then gestured for her to sit down on the sofa. As he examined her hand, he noticed that, while she did make a cursory glance around the room, she did not seem to be either amazed or disgusted at the chaotic mess, comment on the bullet holes, stare at the skull on the mantle, or do anything that a first time visitor probably would at such a time.
"You've been here before," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Rose just nodded in affirmation as she finally allowed herself to relax a little. She could feel her exhaustion step in and threaten to overwhelm her at that point, though. After all, it had been a particularly long day for her and the adrenaline rush from the fight had long since worn off. She instinctively knew that it would be safe to let her guard down around her current company, though, so she relaxed even further against the back of the sofa as John continued the examination.
When Sherlock brought the ice pack, John told them both that he was pretty sure that it was just a sprain. Therefore, he suggested that they ice it first until the swelling went down and then he would wrap it for her later. When Rose agreed, he elevated her hand on the sofa arm and placed the ice pack over it. She thanked him with a brilliant smile that he could not help but to return and then they all sat down to eat. Sherlock joined Rose on the sofa (which earned him a smile, as well) and John sat on the opposite side of her in the adjacent chair.
There was a bit of an awkward silence at first as they divided up the food, but then Rose broke the silence. "Sherlock tells me that you just got married a few weeks ago, John."
"Oh yes," the doctor replied congenially, "but did he tell you that he planned the wedding?"
"What? No!" Rose turned to look at Sherlock in amazement. When he just shrugged, but chose not to say anything, she patted his knee. "I knew that you were a man of many talents," she proclaimed with sincerity and the corner of Sherlock's mouth turned up again in response.
That broke the ice. Rose and John then continued to make small talk while they ate and Sherlock just sat back and observed them. John was his best friend and Rose was becoming…important…to him. Therefore, he knew that he needed for them to get along. He could tell that John was very curious about her and that Rose was worried about the explanation that she would have to make to him. Consequently, he did not really mind when they talked about him or when they realized that they had both met him for the first time at the morgue.
"That explains so much!" Rose shrieked with laughter while John just guffawed in agreement.
Then, John asked her if she was really the Vitex heiress. She seemed embarrassed by the question and mumbled "Not if I can help it!" before she looked nervously over at Sherlock, who did not seem to be surprised by the information.
"You knew?" she asked him softly. He nodded. "But you didn't say anything?"
"You did not mention it, so it did not seem to be important to you. Therefore, it did not need to be important to me, either," he replied, as he shrugged again.
Rose gave him a desperately grateful look and patted his knee again. John, meanwhile, just watched them…and their contact…carefully, since he was still trying to figure out exactly what was going on between them. After all, it was clear that Sherlock was far more interested in the woman than John had originally thought. There was obviously something more than just fascination there. In fact, Sherlock was already so invested that he was making a point not to upset or embarrass her. He was trying to consider her feelings! John had never really known Sherlock to do that for anyone – not even him – ever!
The two of them, with occasional sardonic input from Sherlock, continued to talk. The discussion centered mainly on John, however, since they all knew that Rose's turn for explanations was coming. John was not really surprised when she mentioned that Sherlock had not told her very much about him. Consequently, he fielded all questions cheerfully. First, she asked him about Mary and congratulated him when he mentioned that they were already expecting their first baby. Then she asked about their honeymoon and he told her all about island hopping in the Caribbean. Finally, she asked about his work and he told her about the clinic where both he and Mary worked.
By that time, they had all finished eating. John checked her hand again and decided that it still needed to be iced for a little longer. Therefore, Sherlock refilled the ice pack again, without even being asked, and they all settled back down to hear Rose's story.
Rose regarded John thoughtfully. She found that she liked the deceptively mild-mannered doctor very much and she could tell that there was much more to him than it seemed. Plus, she already trusted Sherlock's judgment because it was obvious about how easily he could read people. However, despite all that, she did not see any reason to tell John the full truth at the current time – especially since she did not have any proof. After all, it had always been her experience that it was easier to explain the existence of alien life when there was actually one with you. Sherlock's introduction to her world had proved that even further. Therefore, she decided to stick with their original plan.
"Well, I guess it is my turn now," she said with a smile.
Then she launched right into a basically truthful…but still highly edited version…of the speech that she had given to Sherlock that night in the morgue. Therefore, she told John that she worked for Torchwood, a highly classified organization, whose main goal was to protect their home land (i.e. the Earth) and to promote peace with their (interstellar) neighbors. She confirmed that she had been just went off duty earlier in the evening when she had recognized the man as a dangerous drug dealer on her organization's Wanted list and had taken the necessary steps to apprehend him before he and Sherlock had shown up since his products were known to kill.
John nodded thoughtfully at the explanation since it fit what he knew and had seen with his own eyes. However, there was just one more thing that he did not understand. "How does Sherlock fit into all this?" he asked curiously.
Rose thought for a moment. "He is a…"
"Consultant," Sherlock interrupted as he sent a sly smirk her way. Rose returned the look with one of her cheerful smiles as they both remembered his initial outrage at that thought during their conversation at the morgue.
John felt the final pieces of the mystery click together and thought that it all now made perfect sense. "Oh! That's how you know each other, then. You work together on cases."
"Not really," Rose said, and to both John's and Sherlock's surprise, she reached over and grabbed Sherlock's hand with her free one as she met his intelligent eyes with her expressive ones. "I just find him fascinating!"
"Um…well…" John just gaped, at the statement, the action, and at the wide beaming smile on Sherlock's face that resulted from those words. John then realized that he had never seen his friend smile so much at one time as he had on this night...after they had run into Rose. He thought that it was a good look for him and he now knew the reason for it. Plus, all of it certainly went a long way towards the explanation of the bad mood, jealous looks, and the hand holding that had confused him so much earlier. He just did not know what to say, though. He was still in a bit of shock from the events of the whole evening. The silence was broken, however, when his phone beeped with a message. John checked it quickly and found that it was from Mary.
Did you and Sherlock decide to have a sleepover OR did you two get in trouble somewhere? Do I need to go and round up some bail money?
-Your loving, but irritated, wife
No sleepover...no trouble...no bail...We are just finishing up here and I will be home soon!
- Your adoring husband who is very sorry that he didn't know what time it was, but just wait until you hear what I have to tell you about Sherlock!
After he replied, he went to apologize, but Rose waved it off as unnecessary.
"Your wife is wondering where you are at, isn't she?" she asked knowingly instead. John nodded and Rose continued, "I don't blame her. I can't believe that it is so late myself. Time flies when you are having fun, yeah? In fact, I probably need to be leaving soon myself." In fact, her exhaustion, which had been staved off a bit with food and conversation, suddenly returned in full force and a loud yawn punctuated the end of her sentence. Rose clapped her hand over her mouth in dismay. However, John laughed at the unintended gesture, while Sherlock just looked thoughtful.
"Well, let me wrap the hand for you before we go, at least," John said to Rose. "As your current doctor," Rose giggled at the designation, "I must insist that you go to bed soon and get plenty of rest. You have had a very exhausting night."
"Don't worry about it, John." Sherlock interrupted. "I will wrap it for her. You know that I know how to do it. Plus, you need to get back to Mary and all of your sickening newlywed bliss."
"Rose?" John asked uncertainly.
The woman nodded, "That's fine, John. I'm sure that Sherlock knows what he is doing. Plus, I don't want Mary to get upset with you for being too late – especially since I had fun tonight and would like to do it again sometime. Maybe Mary can even join us next time. I would love to meet her." At her words, Sherlock simply gazed at her with an undecipherable look while John seemed quite amused by the thought of basically double dating with Sherlock.
"It's a date, then." John confirmed, mainly to tease his former flat mate with the "d" word. However, Sherlock surprised him yet again with a nod instead that made it seem as if he agreed to the whole scheme – and that he did not actually hate the idea.
Consequently, John bid them both goodnight. Before he left the flat, however, he received a kiss on the cheek from Rose and another unhappy look from Sherlock. This time, however, it just made him chuckle since he now knew without a doubt that Sherlock really was jealous!
…
John had a hard time catching a cab because of the late hour. When one finally stopped, he jumped in and was almost home before he realized that he should have offered to share the cab with Rose because she probably had a hard time finding one, too. It was too late now to worry about it, but it was something that he would keep in mind for next time. He sincerely hoped that there would be a next time. After all, Sherlock deserved happiness, too, and it was already obvious that being with Rose made him happy – even if he did not realize it himself, yet.
John let himself into the dark and quiet house and found that his wife had already gone to bed. That was not really surprising due to the lateness of the hour. He also thought that she was asleep, but when he slid into the bed beside her, she spoke.
"So…what was the amazing thing that you had to tell me about Sherlock?" she asked sleepily.
"Well, the main thing is that he has a girlfriend – even if he doesn't know it, yet!" John replied as he grinned widely in the dark. Mary could not see him but she could still hear the excitement in his voice.
"What?" she exclaimed in surprise and sat straight up in bed. That was not definitely not the kind of news that she had expected and she demanded to know more. Therefore, John proceeded to tell her everything he knew about Rose. "Oh, yes!" she agreed when John mentioned the idea of a double date. "I will definitely have to meet the woman who can keep Sherlock's interest and impress my husband at same time!"
Back at the Baker Street flat, Sherlock had returned from fetching the bandages to find that Rose had fallen asleep on the sofa. He was not surprised, however, because even an unobservant man could have figured out how very tired the woman was when she had been talking to John. Therefore, he silently debated with himself whether to wake her up and send her home, leave her on the sofa, or carry her to his bed so she could sleep comfortably. Something inside of him stirred unexpectedly at that last intriguing thought.
At any rate, he knew that he had to wrap her hand first, no matter what. After all, it was partially his fault that she was injured in the first place. Consequently, he sat down next to her and gently held the injured hand in one of his own while he wrapped it tightly with the other one. When he had finished, he looked up to see smiling warm brown eyes looking back at him.
"Thank you!" she said quietly and she stirred to sit up in order to lean over to kiss his cheek gratefully. "I'm so sorry that I fell asleep on you, but it's been a really long and eventful day! In fact, I really should go now." Sherlock could hear the disappointment in her voice as she continued. "Even though it will be Saturday, I still have to go in to work tomorrow morning and handle this Slathling mess."
"No!" Sherlock did not even have to think about it, he just automatically replied to her statement.
"Excuse me?" Rose was a bit confused as to exactly what Sherlock seemed to be denying.
"No," Sherlock repeated himself. "You should not attempt to go home. It's late, you will never catch a cab at this hour, and it's too far…and too unsafe…to try and walk it when you are this tired. Therefore, you should just stay here – on the sofa if you wish, or even in John's old room up the stairs. Better yet, stay in my room tonight. It's right down the hall…next to the loo…and I will take the upstairs room, instead."
"That's really thoughtful, Sherlock," Rose replied, "but I still have to go in to work tomorrow."
"So? You can always just leave early and go back to your flat in the morning – if you need to. However, I suspect that you also keep a field uniform at work for emergencies. That way you could just change, there, too. I am willing to bet that you have a lot of field agents coming and going - even on Saturdays - so you would not look out of place."
"You really are a genius!" she exclaimed.
"Was there any doubt?" he pointed out and Rose laughed quietly.
"None at all," she murmured as she leaned forward again, placed her wrapped hand on his cheek, and gave him another soft kiss. This time, however, her lips found his. She purposely kept the contact simple and light, since she just wanted to show him how she felt without scaring him off. Therefore, she was surprised (and she could "feel" his, too!) when he leaned in and deepened the kiss of his own accord – much like she wanted to do herself. They broke apart after just a minute, though, and rested their foreheads against each other. Sherlock seemed surprised at his own actions but he even smiled a bit when another yawn escaped from the woman in front of him – even when she tried to contain. However, they both actually broke out in laughter when Sherlock involuntarily followed her seemingly contagious one up with a yawn of his own – even though he suspected it was a trick of his own psyche that made him do so.
"I guess that is our sign that it is time to go to bed," Sherlock stated, and his tone even sounded a bit regretful, as he stood up and chivalrously offered Rose his arm.
"Yes, unfortunately, I do have to get up in just a few hours." Rose replied as she took the proffered arm and let him lead her past the kitchen, down the short hall, and into his bedroom. She took a look around, and was actually quite impressed with what she saw. Compared to the rest of the flat, the bedroom was quite tidy. It was also fashionable with subdued wallpaper, dark wood furniture, and…is that a poster of the periodic table on the wall? He is such a nerd! she thought cheerfully.
"I love it!" she said aloud.
Sherlock nodded in relief, but he would not have been able to explain why…not even if he had been forced to do so. He was just glad that she liked it. He also walked over to the dresser and retrieved a plain white t-shirt for her.
"Here, you can sleep in this, if you want. The loo is right next door. I'll go first while you" he paused to gesture at her with a bit of uncertainty about the knowledge of what women actually do before they go to bed, "do whatever you need to." He then turned and left the room without a word. Rose thought that he even seemed to be a little embarrassed. Consequently, she watched him go with a fond smile.
She then checked the alarm on her phone. The battery was a little low, but she thought that it had enough power to make it until she could charge it at the office on the next day. She allowed herself a brief trip down memory lane as she thought of the phone that she once had that never needed charging. It did not work in this universe, though, of course…and so after she had removed some of the important pictures on it immediately upon her involuntary arrival in Pete's World, it had finally died for good and had been regulated to a small box in the bottom of her wardrobe.
Rose shook her head to clear the memories. After all, it had been over five years and they no longer held the power to hurt her as they once had. She had forced herself to move on and live her own life. The proof of that was in the next room. In fact, as she sat down on his bed to remove her socks and shoes, she realized that she could hear Sherlock as he moved around (and brushed his teeth?) in the adjacent bathroom. She smiled at the sound of the impressive detective doing something so ordinary as hygiene as she also pulled down her trousers and and slipped out of her shirt.
As Rose stood there in just her bra and panties, she wondered what would happen if Sherlock walked in at that moment. She imagined his reaction, his sly smile, and the knowing sparkle in his eye as he drew her close to him…and touched her with those long slender fingers that she had admired in the chippie that day in ways that she had not felt for so long. Rose shivered with delight at the thought, but realized that, unfortunately, it just was not a good idea at the current time – for so many reasons!
She sighed with regret as she pulled off her bra and slipped on the t-shirt. It barely covered her thighs, but it was soft and comfortable and would be perfect to sleep in. A light knock at the door and a soft "Rose?" let her know that Sherlock was finished and that it was her turn in the loo.
She opened the door…and was still surprised at his reaction to the sight of her standing there in nothing but his t-shirt, some knickers, and a smile (even though she had just imagined that exact scenario a moment before!) However, she did not even offer to complain when his eyes flashed dark and he practically growled as he uncharacteristically let his baser instincts take over when he pressed her against the wall. Then he kissed her as if his life depended on it. It was deep and passionate, and she could feel his need, but she barely had time to respond (even though her body desperately wanted to!) before he abruptly let her go, mumbled "Good night!" and stalked off down the hallway and through the kitchen.
He stopped in the lounge, just out of her sight, and berated himself for his loss of control. It was not like him at all to become undone by a woman! He had even looked upon the naked body of The Woman with complete composure. However, for some reason, it was different with Rose. When he saw her standing there in his shirt, braless and bare-legged, he just could not seem to help himself. In fact, it was amazing that he had even been able to stop!
Nevertheless, Rose did not seem to mind, but how does she feel now? After all, I did walk away, he could not help but to wonder if that had been the most strategic move.
However, that was before he heard a very quiet, but unmistakable, "Wow!" right before the door to the loo shut with a quiet click. He smiled at such a sentiment, and noticed that he could still feel the phantom presence of her lips against his (another trick of his psyche, no doubt!) before he turned and left the main flat to go upstairs. There he stripped down to his underpants and crawled in bed where he fell asleep to thoughts of one remarkable Rose Tyler.
Rose's mobile alarm buzzed loudly way too early the next morning since she felt that she had not had nearly enough sleep. After she crawled into Sherlock's very comfortable bed on the previous night, she should have fallen asleep immediately, but her thoughts were too full of him. That unexpected kiss had simply been too amazing to dismiss! Then, when she went into the loo, she could not help but to notice that he had also laid out a clean towel, a flannel, and even a new toothbrush for her. For a moment, she was overcome by the thoughtfulness of a man whom even Molly (who had been extremely infatuated with him) had once described to her as "cool and aloof."
Then, after all of that, she found herself in his bed with sheets that retained a faint hint of his unique scent. It was a very masculine aroma that reminded her of a mixture of soap, old books, and tobacco for some reason. With that realization, however, she finally felt relaxed enough to fall asleep.
Unfortunately, it was currently time to get up. Consequently, she went to the loo, brushed her teeth, and unwrapped her hand. It looked much better, and the swelling was gone, but it was still quite sore. She knew that she would have to get somebody at HQ to rewrap it for her later. All Torchwood employees were required to know basic First Aid, after all.
She then hesitated for only a moment before she decided to jump into the shower, as well, where she took great pleasure in the use of Sherlock's shampoo and soap. Fortunately, they both had a pleasant, but neutral scent – nothing so masculine that it would be commented upon. Rose could not find a hair dryer, afterwards, though, so she decided that she would just let her hair dry naturally and pull it up in a bun when she got to work. She kept hair supplies, as well as a makeup kit, in her office anyway. After all, she never knew when she would need to freshen up after a visit to the field or after some physical training at the Torchwood gym.
Then, wrapped in nothing but the towel, she went back to the bedroom to decide what to wear. Despite Sherlock's suggestion that she just utilize her spare field uniform, she realized that she would probably be in her professional office for most of the day, and as the head of the ISR Department, she should probably wear something nicer – just in case. Her black trousers and black trainers from the previous day would be fine - especially since she also always left her classy...but uncomfortable...and highly impractical for running, black heels underneath her desk for her office hours. However, she would definitely need another top.
She looked around the room for ideas, and when she saw Sherlock's wardrobe, she smiled. He had impeccable dress sense, so perhaps she could find something there. After a quick search, she procured a burgundy button-up that was a bit more fitted than the rest of them. When it had been tucked in and dressed up a bit with the scarf that she remembered was in her desk drawer, she knew she would be presentable. After all, if she was lucky, there would not be a lot of people in the office anyway – just a few unfortunates like herself with last minute reports to file.
Consequently, it was with high spirits that she decided to leave a note for him, instead of a simple text. Back in his office area of the lounge, she took a piece of paper out of his printer and a pen off of his desk.
Thank you for last night.
You were very thoughtful.
(By the way, the kiss wasn't bad, either!)
I borrowed a shirt. Hope you don't mind.
(Too late if you do! Ha!Ha!)
Remember, it is still your turn to call or text me, first!
(Incentive: I still owe you a meal - your choice!)
Looking forward to it!
- Rose :)
She fixed the bed and left the little irreverent note, along with the folded t-shirt that she had slept in, on the pillow. She walked back into the bathroom to hang up her wet towel, took a look around to make sure she had not missed anything, and walked back through to the lounge. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair where John had tossed it on the previous evening and was ready to go once she had shrugged it on.
As she walked out the door of Sherlock's flat, though, she automatically looked up the stairs to the next landing where the man was apparently still sleeping. Rose was only a bit surprised this time when she had to fight off the urge to go up there and crawl into bed with him! After all, her attraction just continued to increase the longer she knew the man. Therefore, she just shook her head, walked down the stairs, and exited by the main door.
…
Sherlock had left the bedroom door cracked open on the previous night – just in case. After all, Rose might have needed something. After that surprisingly heated kiss, he had even allowed the small consideration to enter his mind that she might even decide that she needed him! That had not happened, however, and Sherlock did not allow himself to dwell on the idea of whether he was disappointed by it or not. Nevertheless, he was still able to hear his flat door open and close, and he definitely noticed when her footsteps paused at the top of the stairs. He even wondered if she was thinking about him before she obviously decided to continue her journey down the staircase and out the front door.
He hesitated for just a moment afterwards before he jumped out of the bed and went back to his own room – with just a quick stop to the loo to take care of those pesky early morning functions. Once there, though, it was obvious that Rose had taken a shower and he felt a little frisson of excitement run through him as he pictured it. He then went into his room and saw her note. Despite his best efforts to keep it at bay, a smile escaped him when he realized that somewhere out in the city today, Rose Tyler wore his shirt and smelled like his shower products. He had made his mark!
At that moment, against all odds, the usual insomniac of a detective suddenly found himself mid-yawn again. Consequently, he pulled back the covers on his bed, and slipped back between the sheets that had enveloped Rose just a short time earlier. There, surrounded by her scent, he drifted back to sleep.
Rose made it all the way to her personal office in the Inter-Species Relations department without being caught. She really wanted to finish her hair, makeup, and outfit before anyone saw her since coming in this early and looking like she had not been home would definitely lead to rumors. She normally would not care about office gossip, but she really did not want something like that to get back to Pete – and, through him, to her mum! Rose shuddered at the thought of her mother demanding details of her supposed sexual escapades. That was definitely something that Jackie Tyler would do. Ugh!
Consequently, her hand was on the knob of her office door when she heard the voice of her brash redheaded assistant and best friend, Donna. "Rose Marion Tyler, what have you been up to - trying to sneak in early with wet hair, no makeup, and wearing a man's shirt? I want details…so spill!"
"What are you doing here, Donna?" Rose sighed, just grateful that it was not her mum. "It's Saturday."
"Lee wanted to finish up some project and then we are going to lunch, so I just decided to come in with him! That's not important, though, right now. Don't change the subject! Tell me where you were last night!" Donna squealed, as she pictured her best friend in all sort of sordid scenarios.
"It's not what you think," Rose muttered tiredly. She had not even had her morning cuppa, yet. "Let's go in my office. At least that way I can finish getting ready before someone else catches me."
Donna agreed. Therefore, while Rose did her hair and make-up…and draped her scarf artistically around her neck to hide the manly collar of the shirt…she told Donna the whole story. She started with the night at the morgue with Molly and went on to explain the chippie lunch date, the previous night's adventure with the Slathling, and why she spent the night at Baker Street and stole the man's shirt in the process.
"So, that's why you have been mooning about the place for weeks? Why didn't Molly tell me? Why didn't you? I'm supposed to be your best friend, you know!" Donna demanded and Rose had to concede that she had a reason to be upset with her.
"I asked Molly not to mention him to anyone…and I am really sorry that I didn't tell you, but…well…it was because he is so much like the Doctor," sighed Rose regretfully. "Not the alien part or traveling through time and space, obviously…but if nothing ever happened between me and Sherlock, then I didn't want it to look like I was making a fool of myself over him – like I did back then." Donna understood…like a best friend should…and patted Rose's arm comfortingly before she rewrapped her hand for her.
"That kiss, though," Rose continued. "I know he wants me, but…" She did not want to finish that thought. Therefore, Donna finished it for her with her usual forthright bluntness.
"But you don't know if he wants more than shagging – right?" Rose nodded. "Well, would that be such a bad thing? It's been a really long time for you, Rose. Maybe getting a leg over with no-strings-attached is what you really need right now."
"Not with him, Donna." Rose said and she shook her head. "I think, no, I know that the physical stuff would be great with him - that kiss last night proved that. However, he's brilliant…and interesting…and gorgeous! I already know that I want more than just sex with him, and it would hurt if he doesn't feel the same. I don't even know if he's the kind of man who can even handle a relationship. That's why I am trying to take things slowly until he can…hopefully. That's why I didn't tell you." She sighed again. "I can't even get him to text me, though!"
Just then, as if on cue, her mobile beeped with a message. Rose snorted at the irony and pulled it out. She fully expected it to be her mother with a demand that she come to Sunday dinner on the following day, but instead her heart leapt at the one word she saw there…
Hello!
Sherlock had slept well in his bed for a couple more hours, surrounded by thoughts of Rose's scent. He rarely dreamed - and if he did, then he usually forgot them immediately upon awakening. However, he remembered having very vivid dreams of her both on the previous night and during the morning, as well. The dreams were not only the physical kind that he thought would have logically followed the previous night's kiss (even though there was indeed some of that, too!), but also a dream that was unexpectedly full of smiles and working together to solve difficult crimes.
Consequently, as unlikely as it first would seem, it appeared that he…and his subconscious…did indeed feel some of that sentiment that he had wondered about on the previous evening. Not only that, but it also seemed that he wanted the whole package with Rose Tyler. How did he go about getting it, though? That was the real question. After all, it was not as if he had ever wanted such a thing…or another person in such a way…before. He thought he knew the right way to begin, at least. Therefore, he grabbed his mobile and finally sent her a one word text.
As Rose had said, it was a nice place to start!
Author's Note: A Moment with Mickey, a missing scene from the end of this story, can be found in Chapter 3 of my Moments Between Mysteries and Mayhem collection.
