Choosing an outfit for one's first date was complicated, Rose thought to herself. Something quirky? Comfortable? Semi-dressy? Dressy? Pants or skirt? Maybe a dress would be better! Something soft and feminine, or something with a loud pattern? If she went with a pattern, how loud was too loud and which was the appropriate pattern for their planned activities? And then what about shoes? Oh god, the shoes! The questions were endless and, unable to arrive at a decision on her own, Rose wisely called for reinforcements.
"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth," Louise chided upon her arrival at Rose's flat. She strode across the floor and into Rose's room, throwing open the closet doors to survey all that was before her. "Yeah, I see what you mean. Not a shred of decent clothing to be found in a wardrobe four times the size of mine!"
Rose laughed, shaking her head. "If you took better care of your clothes-"
"Or had them professionally tailored, if not bespoke," Louise countered. She gave Rose a look of disdain before bursting into laughter. "You're my favorite person in the whole world, you know that? Only you could ring me up and say you have nothing to wear when you have…" The redhead frowned as she scrutinized the contents of the closet once more.
"What?" Rose asked, getting up to stand beside her best friend. "What's wrong?"
"How in the world could I have missed this? After all these years, being your bestie and half-living at your house and growing up around your brothers! I really ought to be ashamed of myself that I haven't noticed this before," Louise murmured.
Rose stared into the closet with a discerning eye and noted nothing at all out of the ordinary. "I'm insanely confused Lou. You'd best tell me what's troubling you or we might stand here for an hour before I stumble upon it. Heaven knows your mind does not work in logical ways."
"If you weren't still recovering, I'd shove you for that," Louise laughed, looping an arm about Rose's shoulders. "I can't believe you don't see it! Rose, you are so much like your brother sometimes that it's downright scary."
The brunette rolled her eyes. "Mycroft's been saying that for years, about Sherlock and I."
"Well then Mycroft is blind too because this," Louise paused to wave her hand at the contents of the closet. "Has Mycroft written all over it."
Frowning a bit, Rose surveyed her wardrobe and finally it dawned on her. Dear god she was like Mycroft! Her clothing was sorted into types, each with their own section and from there was grouped into bunches of dressier occasion, work clothes, everyday items, and strictly formal items. Within each group the items were hanging together in order of color and not just all the greens together, but each color was in alphabetical order.
"Oh my god… How long have I been doing this?" Rose asked, her voice filled with both wonder and horror.
Louise shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure. It's been forever since you and I were able to share clothing and this is the first time you've ever asked me to dress you-"
"Help me select an outfit," Rose interrupted. "I am perfectly capable of dressing myself." The two girls grinned at each other.
"I haven't inspected your closet thoroughly in some time, since you keep your competition outfits in front. Who knows? Maybe it's emerged because you're bored out of your mind here at home resting? Could be a habit that's existed for quite some time, who knows? What I do know is it's slightly terrifying," Louise decided.
"You know what's more terrifying?" Rose asked. "The fact that you remember how Mycroft organizes his closet. Though we did have a significant amount of time to dwell on his organizational skills that afternoon we were hiding from him in there."
Louise grimaced at that particular memory. "Those scorch marks on your Mum's granite counter from those hot pans of biscuits. How did we not remember to put anything under the pans? We remembered to use a glove to take out the pans."
"I have no idea, but I didn't look at biscuits quite the same way again for a while after that particular spanking. He was far angrier about the scorched counter and didn't see the wall until I was stupid enough to point it out," Rose said, shaking her head. "And poor you! You wouldn't go near him for a month afterwards!"
"I pitied you greatly after that, learning first-hand how awful a Mycroft spanking was," Louise admitted. "Anyway, back to your enormous wardrobe and an outfit for tonight. First date, so exciting!" She hugged Rose tightly, the two girls sharing a grin with one another. "So what sort of look do you want to go for?" the redhead asked. "The 'I'm so sexy and gorgeous' look, or a 'let's skip dessert and go back to my place' look, or an 'I'm unique and adorable' look? Personally I vote for the 'let's skip dessert' look."
Rose frowned and repeated the phrase mentally, its meaning dawning on her after a few seconds. "Louise! It's the first date! We're not doing… that! You're a horrid example, you know that?"
Louise merely grinned. "Oh, I know. You need a bad example," she decided. "But do as I say, not as I do, right? Seriously though, you two have known each other for months. There's nothing wrong with looking eminently fuc-"
"No," Rose cut her off. "Just no Louise. Honestly, you're not turning out to be much help." She could feel her face growing red at the direction this conversation was going, feeling a bit out of her element. "It's the first date Louise, and you can be sexy and gorgeous without having to advertise that you want to have sex that very minute. Besides, even if I wanted to do that- which I don't!" Rose reiterated. "I'm not on any birth control."
"That can be easily fixed. Go see my ob-gyn, get checked out and get a prescription," Louise told her. "Though do it sooner rather than later. You never know when he might sweep you off your feet and carry you straight to a bed." She began imitating the cheesy sort of music one might find in a cheap adult film until Rose's face went as red as the flower that shared her name.
Her face was going to burst into flame at any second, Rose was certain of it! She hadn't even thought that far in advance of things. "It's just the first date!" she squeaked.
"You've known each other for several months now," Louise pointed out. "Not that I'm saying you should get in bed with the man post haste or anything, just, be prepared for when it happens. And try not to blush quite so brightly or look so worried when it does, or you might put him off!" she laughed.
Rose couldn't help laughing along with her. "You're right, I know," she It's just… it's John and I don't want to ruin this."
"You're not going to mess this up you know." Louise reached for Rose's hand and squeezed it hard. "John's a good one, you've finally picked a good one and now that he's figured out you're the best thing that could ever happen to him, everything will be great. But it all starts with looking good and feeling confidant on your first date!"
Thirty minutes later Rose ran next door in just her dressing gown, calling out "John, John, John!"
"Rose, Rose, Rose!" the doctor called back from the kitchen. He grinned broadly as she narrowly missed running into Sherlock who was pacing around the sitting room.
Walking at a more sedate pace, after the near run-in, Rose entered the kitchen to find John about to pour a cup of tea. She stopped, put her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow. "And just how many cups of tea have you had today, John Watson?"
John had to force himself not to laugh at her mock stern look, trying to look so authoritative with her hands on her hips. She was just a slip of a girl, as the saying went, so the sight was quite comical. He raised an eyebrow of his own in return and imitated her stance. "I could ask the same of you Rose Holmes. But I'll offer you a cuppa instead. Join me?"
"We're leaving in forty minutes, there's no time for tea," Rose exclaimed. "I still need to finish getting ready!"
"So the dressing gown isn't your apparel for the evening then?" John asked the question with a straight face and conversational tone but was unable to hide a grin when she blushed.
Rose tossed her hair before defiantly raising her chin. "No, it is not. Disappointed?" Her eyes glittered with mischief.
"Dreadfully so," he deadpanned.
She tried her best to look put out with him but Rose couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling over. "Beastly man!" she accused amid giggles.
The laughter quickly stopped when John put his tea down and reached for her with both hands. He pulled her close, the touch of his hands making her heart flutter. John leaned his forehead against her own and said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Beastly hm? Does that make you Beauty then?"
Rose was about to close the few inches between their lips and capture his with her own when they were quite rudely interrupted.
"She prefers Cinderella John, which would make you Prince Charming," Sherlock quipped while still pacing. "Despite the lack of similar circumstances that would enable a small child to feel affection for and a connection to a fairytale figure, that one has remained Rose's favorite all her life."
The youngest Holmes closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. "Sherlock… timing."
Sherlock ceased his pacing and looked over towards the kitchen where Rose and John were still holding on to one another. "Oh."
"ROSE!" Louise's voice now entered the mix, announcing her entrance in to the flat. "How long does it take to ask about shoes?"
"Oh! John, I came to ask if I could wear heels tonight," Rose suddenly remembered.
A slow smile spread across the doctor's face. "Are you dressing up for me?"
"Don't be silly, I was practically born in heels and wear them all the time. I dress for my comfort, John Watson, not to impress you," she teased. "Though if I happen to please you while also pleasing myself, then I'll be quite satisfied."
John laughed and shook his head. "Born in heels, hm? Well I can't say they aren't a good look for you," he admitted. "But I think you should still hold off on those until your six weeks is up. I don't want to take any chances of you losing your balance and falling." He pulled her a little closer, his lips brushing her cheek before whispering in her ear, "I'm so proud of you." It was rather significant in John's book that she had even thought to ask about it.
"Alright, alright, snog her later after I've made her sexy," Louise interrupted loudly. "At this rate you'll miss your reservations and never even bother to leave the building, let alone the flat!"
Rose tilted her head up and gave John a brief kiss before Louise managed to drag her away.
A short time later John was about to knock on Rose's door when it suddenly flew open, revealing Louise. The redhead scooted out of the way and went to stand by Sherlock who was hovering in the doorway of his own flat, everyone seemingly waiting for the youngest Holmes to appear. When she did, John's face lit up brightly as he looked her up and down.
Her hair was done in a waterfall braid, the remaining length of her curls spilling onto her shoulders. It was a stunning style that somehow managed to look completely effortless on her. John noticed she wore no make-up and that made him smile even more because she was so pretty she didn't even need it. Not to mention it might cover her freckles! Rose's outfit was undeniably her: a knee-length dress with little cap sleeves, it was a bright almost neon green sprinkled with tiny white flowers. It was accented with a hot pink belt, matching shoes, and small neon pink hoops in her ears as well. The outfit was every bit Rose, bright and fun, yet feminine and a bit eclectic all at the same time.
It was only when Louise rather loudly cleared her through that John realized he was still staring and hadn't said even a word while Rose was beginning to blush uncomfortably. "It's too bright isn't it? Too loud," Rose reflected. "I'm sure Angelo will hold our table and I can go change really quickly. Honestly, it wouldn't take me very long."
"No, don't," John immediately replied. "It's so… you. It's like you in a dress."
Rose snorted before beginning to laugh. "Well I am wearing a dress so technically it is me in a dress."
It was John who blushed a bit this time, the heat that he could feel on his face undeniable proof of that fact. "I meant that more metaphorically. It's like you made into cloth. Okay, that didn't exactly sound any better… Your personality in fabric form?" Somewhere in the past two minutes he'd clearly lost the ability to make any sense at all and John was a bit disconcerted by that fact.
"Oh dear god they're hopeless," Louise moaned to Sherlock. "John likes it, you like it Rose, everyone likes it, are we agreed? Excellent." She didn't even wait for a response before declaring it to be 'excellent.' Louise then looked at Sherlock and elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Say something," she whispered rather loudly.
Sherlock looked down at her and frowned before turning his gaze towards Rose. "You look very pretty," he said sincerely.
"Sherlock, you're such a dolt," Louise decided, elbowing him again. She squeaked when Sherlock elbowed her in return, albeit gently, but his elbow was sharp! "Say something to them. You know, like you do whenever some guy comes to get Rose for a first date."
The middle Holmes looked downright confused now, something he very much hated. "Louise, you are speaking nonsense and I have no idea to what you are referring."
The redhead rolled her eyes. "You know-the things. The dad type things. Treat her nicely, bring her home by curfew. Make some vague threat about great bodily harm if he doesn't. Haven't you ever done that before?"
"No, typically that has been Mycroft's department and I really fail to see why such a conversation would be necessary in this instance," Sherlock retorted. "This is John." That, as far as he was concerned, rendered any sort of conversation of that nature rather mute.
"I'm so confused," John whispered to Rose. "And a bit frightened that even Sherlock looks confused just now."
"Louise is trying to get Sherlock to be playful and tease us but he doesn't understand the necessity of it, mainly because there isn't a need for it. I sometimes don't understand my life, and this is one of those times," Rose admitted. "We're leaving now!" she announced rather loudly. "If someone would please pass me my coat, we're leaving!"
Shooting Louise an irritated glance, Sherlock reached into the flat and pulled her coat off the hook. Somehow most of his sister's shoes and all of her various coats seemed to collect in his and John's flat rather than Rose's own, something for which he could find no discernible reason for.
Rose readily took the coat from her brother and slipped it on before doing up the buttons and heading down the stairs with John right behind her. When they exited the building they took one look at each other and began laughing. "My personality in fabric form? Really?" She could hardly get the words out she was laughing so hard.
John shrugged sheepishly before reaching for her hand. "Come along you, we're running late as it is!" As he got his laughter under control he silently marveled at how perfectly her hand fit in his, their fingers interlaced.
"You've grown very quiet," Rose commented as they rounded the corner of the block. "What are you thinking about?"
The doctor coughed a bit before responding with, "Your hand."
Rose frowned a bit in confusion at his comment. "My hand?" she asked. "What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing; nothing at all in fact," John hurried to assure her.
"Are you nervous too?" Rose questioned, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her questioned caused John to become immediately concerned. He let go of her hand, circling her waist with his arm instead. "What are you nervous about?"
She took a deep breath before responding to his question. "I don't want to mess this up and I'm scared that I will. I'm not good at any of this."
They came to a stop a few feet from the entrance to Angelo's as John turned her towards him. He cupped her cheek with his hand, brushing his thumb gently across it. "Don't you think I should be the one worried about mucking this up?" John asked quietly. "Considering what a fine job of it I was doing to begin with? I think we're both starting on equal footing here, yeah? Now smile for me, love. Come on, give me a smile or I'm really going to start worrying."
Unable to resist his gentle encouragement, Rose gave him a smile that brought the sparkle back into her eyes and tried to let her anxiety disappear in its wake.
"Well hello smile, lovely to see you again," John quipped, giving her a cheesy grin. "Now come on, let's go in. Angelo's already spotted us and is waving rather frantically from the entrance." Taking her hand once more, they hurried inside and let Angelo fawn over them for a few moments before being shown to a table.
"So when did you start dancing?" John asked. While it felt as if he had known Rose for a long time, he knew there was a lot about her that he didn't know and a lot she didn't know about him.
"When I was three. Started ballet, added tap the next year and ballroom when I was six," Rose responded before sipping her coffee. "I won my first title at nine. The plaque is still hung up in my Mum's room."
"Nine? You've been competing since you were nine?" It made sense that she would have started young, but John had never realized quite how young she'd been. He tried to picture what Rose would have looked like then, the image he conjured making him smile.
"Why are you smiling? And I won a title at nine, started competing with ballroom at seven," Rose added, grinning at the look on his face.
"I'm trying to imagine how you looked back then," John admitted. "Teeny tiny thing, undoubtedly dressed in pink or polka dots, curls everywhere, wearing miniature heels on those impossibly tiny feet of yours. God, I bet you were adorable."
She laughed softly. "My adorableness would depend entirely on who you asked and how much of a terror I'd been that day," she said, blushing a bit. "I always knew I wanted to be a dancer. Did you always know you wanted to be a doctor?"
John shook his head. "I had all sorts of things I wanted to do when I was young. I thought about being a firefighter, then an aeroplane pilot, all the types of jobs little boys dream about having. But I was fourteen when I decided I wanted to be a doctor, because I cared about people and wanted to help them. I discovered I was sort of good at it when my gran came to live with us for a while before she passed and I helped Mum take care of her. From that point on I had my heart set on it.
"You know what I would love to do sometime?" John asked. When Rose shook her head, he continued. "I'd love to see your whole process that you go through for a dance. Frankly I don't understand how you hear music, put movements to it, and then make it look so bloody amazing and I'd really like to know how that happens."
Rose beamed brightly at him, feeling quite pleased. "I suppose you could if you really wanted to. It's not always that much fun, and sort of hard to put into words. I kind of have to listen to the music repeatedly until I can feel it. Feel the beat," she clarified. "Then, depending on what type of dance it is, I think about what types of movements work best with the music and fit the feel of it and then start trying those movements to see if they all link up well together. After that teach it to Alfred and then we polish it up together."
John nodded, finishing a bite of his food before responding. "How do you know which things to do for which dance? Are there rules of some sort?"
"There are, but you want to be clever about it too. You can't just do the basic required moves and expect to win anything. You've got to put your on flair in it or you don't stand out. It's complicated, but it all makes sense in my head, I swear!" Rose laughed. "Now it's my turn again. Why the army? Why be an army doctor and not just a regular one from the start?"
"Well, for starters, medical school is expensive. My family didn't have the sort of extra funds to set up some savings for Harry and I for college so I knew I'd have to find some way to pay for it. My dad was in the army and I thought I could do well there as a doctor. People in the army need good doctors so much. War is more remote now, to a certain extent, since we aren't charging each other with swords, but with each change in weaponry more damage is done to a person," John explained.
Rose nodded slowly. "The distance might be greater between combatants but the technology that makes that possible causes greater devastation to soldiers and everything. The environment, civilians, surrounding areas, everything."
"Exactly!" John's face lit up with pleasure at Rose's comprehension. Not that he expected any less, but there were few people with whom he could talk about Afghanistan with. "They needed good doctors, who could think on their feet and patch those men up and be brave enough to care for them even in the most nightmarish circumstances and I thought I had that in me. I thought I could be that good."
Her mouth curved into a thoughtful smile. "They were lucky to have you then," Rose decided with a firm nod. "And I happen to think you are a very good doctor indeed, John Watson."
A smile tugged at the corner of John's lips but he managed, just barely, to keep his face and tone serious. "And just how would you know, Rosenwyn Holmes? You never listen to a thing I say!"
Rose's breath quickened at his words, her eyes growing wide as her cheeks became warm. Then she caught the gleam in his eye and began laughing softly, hoping she wouldn't disturb the other patrons. Her laughter grew when John's own warm, rich laughter joined hers and they dissolved into helpless laughter, the other patrons be damned.
"You know what though," John said when their laughter was under control again. "I really don't think I'd have you any other way, my madcap girl."
A short time later, with dessert eaten and the check taken care of, Rose and John exited Angelo's. John immediately wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her close as they stepped out into the cool night air. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Should we head back to Baker Street? I don't want to keep you out if you're getting a bit sore. We've done a lot of laughing today."
"That we have," Rose agreed, turning her face up towards his. "But it's been good. This has been so good, and I don't want to go home just yet. In fact, there was supposed to be this new club opening nearby and I thought we might walk over that way and see if it is. It's not a club club," she clarified. "Much more laid back than that, or so I've gathered from the press about it. Could we go see?"
"Promise you'll tell me the minute you start hurting? I don't want you to be in pain love," John said sincerely.
"That's a very easy promise to make. Let me get the address again." Rose pulled her mobile out of her purse and quickly googled the name of the club. "Yeah, it's just four blocks away. Come on, let's go check it out." She tugged on John's hand as she set off in the direction of the club.
"It's a good thing I actually want to go with you otherwise you'd be hard pressed to make me move anywhere," John pointed out with a laugh.
"I'm stronger than I look," Rose pointed out as they fell in step beside each other. "Don't let my petite size fool you! I could seriously kill someone with my legs."
That put quite an interesting mental image in his head, John silently reflected. "Like that girl in Goldeneye? One of those ones that's very pretty but with a stupid name."
Rose stopped in her tracks and turned to him, her jaw dropping. "You're a Bond fan… How did I not know this? How did I not know this? John you're perfect!"
John suddenly found himself with his arms full of Rose. Unable to resist the urge to do so, he spun her around a bit before setting her back on her feet. "How did I not know you were a Bond fan either?" he asked, looking bewildered.
"I have no idea," Rose admitted with a shake of her head. "And the girl's name was Xenia Onatopp, so yes, stupid name. Literally killer legs. Oh, the irony of it all!"
"You're brilliant," the doctor murmured. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled as much as he had tonight. Yet another tugged at his lips as Rose slipped her arm through his and began directing them towards the club once more. "So, I'm perfect am I?"
The slight girl beside him let out a laugh. "Apparently so John, apparently so."
"You going to remember that the next time I scold you about something?" John just couldn't resist giving her a smirk while she narrowed her eyes at him.
"I've resolved that there will not be a next time," she explained in a firm tone.
John made a brief humming noise and nodded his head. "I estimate that will last a whole… four days," he decided. "Yes, four days maximum."
"That's terrible!" Rose laughed, playfully slapping his arm. "How dare you have such little faith in me? If I say there shall not be a next time, there shall not be a next time!"
"There will always be a next time because you, my darling girl, are incurably naughty," John teased.
Rose's face flushed as she sucked in a breath. "Say that again," she requested softly.
John frowned a bit. "That you're incurably naughty? I was teasing, mostly."
The loose curls about her shoulders shifted as Rose shook her head. "No, the other part."
"My darling girl?" John watched her nod curtly, acknowledging he'd said the right thing this time.
For some reason, the spontaneous moniker John had given her went straight to Rose's heart and made her feel strange. Very strange and very wonderful in a way she couldn't quite explain. "I like that a lot," she finally said.
"Then I'll say it a lot," John immediately responded. "When it's just you and me, yeah?"
"Yeah," she agreed. "And I'll have to think up something to call you."
"As long as it's nothing ridiculous I don't have a problem with that," he said with a nod.
"So calling you my love muffin is out?"
"Your what?" John asked loudly, turning his head to give her a scathing look. "No, that one is not going to happen, I mean-"
Rose was nearly doubled over with laughter at this point. "Oh my god, the look on your face! Oh John, your face! That's the funniest look I've ever seen in my life!" She might have kept laughing for quite some time if a shooting pain hadn't interrupted her. Rose let out a moan and pressed her hand to her ribs.
"Alright, time to go home now," John said firmly. "Take a second, catch your breath, and then we're going home."
"But the club-"
"If it just opened, it'll still be open in a few days time. We've been far too silly this evening and it caught up with you. I was worried it might," John admitted. "Thankfully we aren't far from home. Can you walk okay, or should I try to get us a cab?"
"I think I'll be alright, just give me a second," Rose told him. She slowed down her breathing as he'd taught her to do, riding out the wave of pain until it eased. "Sorry to ruin our date," she said softly as they began heading back to Baker Street.
"You didn't ruin anything, love," John murmured. "It's been a really great evening. One of the best I've had in a really long time with anyone to be honest."
Rose nodded. "Same here. I'm so glad you finally came round John, truly."
"Me too," he said with conviction. "Me too."
Two hours had passed since they had returned home and gone straight to Rose's flat, Sherlock reflected. For the past fifteen minutes straight he'd be listening to the same song over and over again and he was going to go mad if he heard it even one more time! What exactly they were doing he had no idea, but that song must be stopped.
Retrieving the key, Sherlock let himself into the flat. The song, he immediately realized, was playing on repeat on a DVD menu while John and his sister were fast asleep on the couch. John had his arm protectively around her with one hand holding a now melting ice pack to her side. Sherlock crossed the room and turned off the electronics, sighing in relief that the stupid Goldfinger song was no longer playing.
With great care he then turned his attention to his flatmate and sister, beginning with easing the ice pack off of Rose and returning it to her freezer. Lastly, he found a blanket and covered them both with it, making certain it was tucked in snuggly around Rose in particular before he left and locked the door behind him.
Two days later Rose found herself in an ob-gyn's office wearing an unfortunate paper gown. This had seemed like a good idea originally. Go in, get the annual check that apparently she should have started getting a few years back, and emerge with birth control in anticipation of someday having sex with John.
She had, however, not anticipated that the exam would be a pelvic exam! Or that there would be a paper gown involved, or even that horribly intrusive questionnaire she'd been forced to fill out. Who asked those sorts of questions?! Clearly, Rose thought, she should have asked someone a few more questions herself!
A knock at the door roused Rose from her thoughts and she plastered a smile on her face when the doctor walked in.
"Hello! I'm Dr. Fields, you must be Rose… Uh, how do you say your name exactly?" the doctor asked.
"It's said "roz-en-win" sort of like Rosalind, but you can call me Rose. Rosenwyn is just too formal and silly, and I'm pretty sure my parents just made it up actually."
Dr. Fields laughed as she made a few notes on the chart regarding Rose's name. "Rose will do just fine then," she agreed. "So I understand you're here for your first exam and to discuss some birth control options, correct?"
"Yes. I'm not entirely sure what to expect to be honest. I rather wish I'd asked someone some questions before I made the appointment," Rose admitted.
"Well I'll be certain to walk you through everything before I do it so you aren't upset by anything," Dr. Fields told her. "And just so you know for the future, you're allowed to bring your Mum in with you if you like. Sometimes it's a bit comforting for young ladies."
Rose's smile wavered a bit. "My mother passed when I was ten," she said softly.
The doctor nodded, finding herself wondering just what her young patient knew outside of the information caught in school. "I'm sorry to hear that dear. We'll take things nice and slow. First off we're going to take a look at your questionnaire." She reached for the paperwork and began going over the information.
They went over Rose's medical history and as much of her mother's as she could remember but there was one final thing to confirm before the exam would proceed.
"And lastly, I just want to confirm that this is also correct- that you've had no sexual partners," Dr. Fields
Rose's face went bright red. "It is, yes. I'm still… uh…" She wasn't certain she could get the word 'virgin' out of her mouth.
"Alright, very good," Dr. Fields responded. "Now the first thing I'm going to do is…"
A short time later Rose left the surgery with the prescription she'd wanted, feeling relieved that things were done with for a year. She had never been so embarrassed in her life, she was certain of it! Why hadn't someone warned her?! "Oh right," she said aloud. "Brothers."
Across London, Anthea looked at the CCTV footage and sighed heavily as she watched Rose emerge from the surgery. This was not going to go over well, she thought to herself. Suddenly the idea of delivery tea to Mycroft Holmes seemed far less than appealing. He was not going to like this at all and there was really no good way for Anthea to say what needed to be said. There was nothing to do but simply bring in his tea and have an ambulance waiting on speed dial should the poor man have an apoplectic fit.
"I know that look," Mycroft said after giving Anthea an appraising look as she entered his office. "There's something you think you need to tell me but you're hesitant to tell me because I'll be upset by it." He watched her place the tea on his desk and then looked at her expectantly.
Anthea merely quirked an eyebrow in silent acknowledgement that he was correct and offered nothing further.
"You only have that look when the upsetting news involves my siblings," Mycroft continued. "You might as well tell me so I can begin to repair the damage before it spirals out of control. What have they done now? Did Sherlock attempt to purchase cocaine from a dealer I haven't terrorized yet?"
"No, sir," Anthea answered. She was a bit amused at the fact that Mycroft couldn't immediately tell somehow what it was she was going to tell him. Yet part of her was very much not looking forward to telling it!
"Well there's a ray of hope after all," Mycroft quipped. "It must be Rose then. Has she been arrested?"
"No sir, of course not," Anthea responded with a chuckle.
"Trust me, it wouldn't be the first time if that happened to be the case," Mycroft admitted. He gave a long-suffering sigh and reached for his cup of tea. "You might as well just tell me Anthea, how bad could it be if those are not among the scenarios?"
The poor man had no idea, Anthea thought. She braced herself for the fallout that was sure to come before beginning to speak. "Rose was just seen at a doctor's office."
Mycroft nodded and took a sip of tea.
"An obstetrics-gynecology practice to be specific, sir."
The tea he had delicately sipped from his cup went spewing across his desk as Mycroft began choking and sputtering.
Without missing a beat, Anthea reached over and thumped Mycroft's back until the choking and sputtering came to a halt. Yes, that had gone precisely as she'd anticipated.
"What in god's name was my sister doing in that sort of an office?!" Mycroft demanded.
"I'm not certain sir. Though given the type of medicine practiced in such an office…" Anthea's voice trailed off as Mycroft gave her a dark look.
"You cannot possibly be suggesting that my sister is with child," Mycroft growled. "Because that, I assure you, is completely impossible!"
Anthea moved just a few inches away from him, stealthily scooting the tea cup along with her. "Sir, she is twenty. Such things have been known to happen in the world."
"Not to MY sister they don't!" Mycroft thundered. "I am going to get to the bottom of this immediately!" Grabbing his mobile, he furiously pulled up Rose's number and hit the green 'go' to connect the call.
This was not going to end well at all, Anthea reflected. "Sir… sir... Mycroft!" She reached over and put her hand over the mobile. "Sir, you need to take a breath and think about this. It's a very delicate subject and it might not even be anything related to pregnancy at all. Try to think carefully so you don't end up accidentally calling your sister a… a… light skirt… sir."
Mycroft's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Out. I'm going to get a hold of her and find out what she was doing there with or without your approval. She is mine after all and I would like to think after all this time I know what I'm doing!"
With a nod Anthea left his office and said a silent prayer that Rose would not answer her mobile for the next several hours.
As Mycroft began repeatedly calling Rose, across London Sherlock looked up from the file on his desk and rubbed his eyes. Once they were focused again his eyes flickered over to the telly to see what had so engrossed Rose and John that they hadn't made even a peep for the past ninety minutes straight. What he saw, however, made him recoil, eyes wide with alarm. "Rose, why are there naked people all over the telly?"
"We're watching Game of Thrones," Rose replied, her eyes never leaving the screen.
Sherlock frowned a bit. "That does not answer my question-"
"Oh yes it does," Rose countered.
"No, it doesn't! Why are all those people naked? It's indecent! John, why are you letting her watch this?"
Rose paused the program as she began laughing loudly. "Sherlock, its HBO. That is what they do. Naked people, randomly, wherever they can possibly have a thin thread of a reason for it and sometimes even when they don't. Naked people aside and incestuous relationships aside, it's a really brilliant show."
"What kind of relationships?!" Sherlock asked, sounding more than a little alarmed. What in the world was his baby sister doing watching this?! "Where did you happen to come across this filth? John, why are you supporting my sister's consumption of pornography?"
The Holmes in question snorted at his indignant questioning of John. "It's not pornography and Mycroft sent it to me," Rose answered, barely holding back more giggles at the look of pure outrage on his face. Her giggles grew in volume when John began laughing as well, unable to hold it any longer.
A dark look settled on her brother's face. "That is not funny and I do not like being lied to Rosenwyn," Sherlock scolded. Crossing his arms over his chest he gave her a look that said she better tell the truth and tell it now. Lying was one thing Sherlock had never, and would never, tolerate from her. Even he had lines that were not meant to be crossed!
"No, seriously! After you overruled him about those lines, he sent this round with a note. It was a 'sorry for being a meanie, here is something from your insanely long Amazon wish list' gift," she explained.
Sherlock paused, considering this for a moment, before smirking gleefully. "That is marvelous. He didn't even have a clue he was sending you a program of this nature! How could Mycroft have not realized?"
"Well you didn't," Rose pointed out. She squealed and ducked when Sherlock hurled a pillow in her direction, which hit John in the face instead.
"Hey now, don't get me involved in this!" he laughed, tossing the pillow back at his flatmate. "I'm the innocent party here!"
Sherlock was about to reply when his mobile began ringing. He looked at where it sat on the desk with disgust. Everyone that was worth hearing from knew he preferred text! Besides that, all the important people were here at Baker Street. Well, not Gavin Lestrade, he admitted to himself, who might just be the person calling him. Sighing, Sherlock picked up the offending object and was more than a little surprised to see Mycroft's name on the ID. Mycroft calling him was never a good thing.
"What do you want? I'm busy." Sherlock answered.
"Do you know where Rose is?"
No sarcasm, no greeting; this was highly unusual. He looked over at Rose who was snuggled on the couch with John watching… well he wasn't quite sure what was going on, other than everyone needed to put more clothing on. "She's fine."
"Is she now?" Mycroft replied, the sarcasm now creeping into his tone. "Then why is she not answering her mobile?"
"How should I know? It's not my day to watch her."
"SHERLOCK HOLMES!" Mycroft thundered. "Every single day of her life is your day to watch her! Where is she?!"
The middle Holmes cringed at the eldest's angry tone. "She's with friends and she's fine. Rose probably can't hear the mobile ringing or has switched it off because she's somewhere that it would be inconvenient for her to be interrupted."
By this time Rose had looked up from her place of blissful comfort cuddled in John's lap to frown at her brother. What in the world was going on? She opened her mouth but Sherlock frantically waved for her to be quiet.
"Something is going on Sherlock and I need to get ahold of her as soon as possible," Mycroft explained. "When you see her next, or hear from her, you tell her to call me immediately. Is that understood?"
"Why? What's going on?"
"Never mind, just have her contact me as soon as possible." The conversation then ended with a little click as Mycroft pressed the 'end' button.
"What was that all about?" Rose asked, frowning a bit. "Sounded like Mycroft was yelling."
"He was; apparently he objects to my saying it wasn't my day to watch you," Sherlock muttered. "Rose, you need to tell Mycroft about you and John. He's becoming suspicious and I'm not sure what he's upset about, but he's definitely upset with you."
Rose's heart dropped. Reaching for the remote she paused the DVD player and looked at John. "Could Sherlock and I have a minute? Please?"
"Of course," John readily agreed. "I'll go upstairs for a bit. Shout when you're ready for me, yeah?"
She nodded her agreement and smiled when he kissed her gently before getting up and exiting the room.
Sherlock quickly occupied John's vacated spot on the couch, upset to see Rose looking so anxious. "Mycroft isn't going to eat you, you know," he pointed out gently. "But you really do need to tell him. It'll be that much worse if he finds out on his own and thinks you've been keeping things from him."
"I know, but…" Rose took a deep breath. "Sherlock I'm scared he's going to say no and then I'll have to choose and I don't want to do that. Whatever I would choose, someone would get hurt, and it's not only myself that I have to consider here, it's you and John, too. How will this affect you both as friends if it all goes bad? I don't know how to tell him this Sherlock."
"You tell him very honestly, succinctly, and in a very mature manner. John is a good man Rose, and I don't think even Mycroft could fail to see that, even where you are concerned," Sherlock pointed out. "Most important of all Mycroft loves you and wants you to be happy. If John makes you happy than I do not see an issue. And you can tell him I say so, that I give my approval to this relationship." He scowled as Rose let out a snort and rolled her eyes.
"Oh yes, because you giving your seal of approval to things has always worked out marvelously well in the past," Rose laughed. She didn't laugh for long when he swatted her thigh, causing her to yelp a bit. "Don't be mean Sherlock. It's not my fault Mycroft doesn't value your approval on things."
"Well don't be quite so delighted about it," Sherlock grumbled, even as he wrapped his arms around her. "At the end of the day Rosie, remember that he loves you dearly and does not want anything to come between you two again. He might react strongly at first but, given time, he'll be made to see reason, I'm sure of it."
Rose smiled when he pulled her close and rested her head against his shoulder. "I hope you're right Sherlock. I really, really, really hope you're right. I don't want to mess things up with Mycroft like I did before."
"You were a confused and hurt teenager back then," Sherlock pointed out gently. "And that was hardly your fault to begin with. I understood, once I knew what you were trying to do and was no longer convinced you'd gone insane." He wished Mycroft had been understanding or listened when Sherlock tried to warm him about why he suspected Rose was acting out. It turned out Sherlock had been right, but that was hardly any consolation for any of them as Rose and Mycroft's relationship deteriorated at breakneck speed.
"Things are different now," he continued on. "You're a young woman now and you've shown great maturity and growth since you've been back. Still a bit reckless at times, but that's just who you are. Eventually we'll spank it out of you, in another few decades or so." A meaningful pat accompanied his words, earning him a squeak and a scowl as Rose made a show of rubbing her bum. Yet for all her dramatics, she let out a soft laugh, which in turn drew a smile from him.
After a moment, however, his smile faded as his tone became serious once more. "Don't ever underestimate how much Mycroft loves you Rose. If you had seen how distraught he was while you were away, you wouldn't feel this anxious now about broaching the subject of you and John with him."
"Perhaps. Promise you won't give us away though Sherlock. Please?" Rose implored with a sad little look.
"Tell him soon Rose, I mean that. The sooner the better. But no, I won't give you both away," Sherlock reluctantly agreed. This wasn't going to end well, he was certain of it, but he wanted to let Rose handle it in her own way and had to trust that she would.
For the next few days Rose managed to dodge Mycroft's calls, returning them only when she knew he would be otherwise occupied. She knew that couldn't last forever, and that she should really just suck it up and get it over with, but she just couldn't. Not at yet. Soon, but not yet.
As the hours and days began to slip by, Mycroft found himself more and more often thinking about what Rose was doing seeing an ob-gyn. Surely she wasn't with child, that was just not possible! In fact, the longer he mulled it over, the more he began to worry that something could be wrong. Was Rose having medical issues? Was her health in danger? If it was, why would she keep it from him?
All these questions were on the tip of his tongue when Rose finally answered what had to be his one hundredth call. That was not, however, what he asked her. "Rose, I'd like to have you over for dinner tonight," Mycroft explained. "Are you free this evening?"
On the other end of the call, Rose looked at her mobile in bewilderment before responding. "That's what you've been trying to ask me? That's what was so important that I should call you back immediately?"
"Well you hardly answered me promptly," Mycroft pointed out. "I was growing concerned."
"And yelling at Sherlock all those times?"
"I always yell at Sherlock. It is what we do," he pointed out. "I'll send my car for you at 6:30."
Mycroft smiled at Rose as he sat down across the table from her. "I'm quite pleased you were able to come for supper this evening," he began. "You've been difficult to get in touch with of late. Out with friends, I understand?"
That was one way to put it, Rose thought to herself. "Mostly with John," she said slowly. Was now the right moment to broach the topic with Mycroft?
"How nice of him to keep you out of trouble." He paused momentarily as she made a face at him as per usual, and made a face of his own in return. "No interesting cases of late, I've noticed," Mycroft continued. "Sherlock must be climbing the walls."
"Shooting them, much to Mrs. Hudson's consternation," Rose laughed softly. "That's our Sherlock, never changes."
"Mmm," Mycroft hummed noncommittally. "I invited you here for a number of reasons, but one in particular is the driving force."
Dear god, he already knew. "Oh?" Rose struggled to keep her voice even as she tried to read her brother's feelings from his well masked face. The effort did her little good as Mycroft was particularly unreadable.
"There is something of some importance I want to speak to you about, but I am… perplexed at how to best broach the topic." Mycroft's smile tightened uncomfortably for a few seconds before he opened his mouth to continue speaking, only to be rudely interrupted by the sound of Rose's fork clattering loudly against her plate.
There was something odd about his tone and Rose felt her entire body go cold at his words, her hand unable to continue holding the eating utensil. "My… Oh my god. Mycroft, please, please tell me you're alright, that you're not dying! People start conversations like this when someone is dying, and you're not allowed to die!"
The eldest Holmes's eyebrows shot upwards at the vehemence with which Rose spoke. A bit stunned by her outburst it took him a few seconds to respond, during which her face became nearly ashen. "Rose, of course I'm not dying!"
Getting up so quickly that her chair toppled over, Rose rounded the table and threw her arms around him, holding on for dear life. "Don't ever, ever, start a conversation like that again My, please," she whispered, hastily blinking away the tears that had started gathering in her eyes.
"There, there," Mycroft soothed. He rubbed her back gently, an almost automatic response to having an upset Rose in his arms. "I do believe I will be bound to this earth for as long as it continues to exist and you are found within it. Heaven only knows who would keep you from harm if I wasn't here." He let her hold on to him for a moment, dropping a kiss on her cheek before gently pushing her away from him. "Yes, yes, all too much sentiment. Do go sit down already."
He waited for her to right her chair and sit down once more before starting the conversation over. "Rose, are you… well?"
This time it was the littlest Holmes who looked completely bewildered. "Well I've still got two weeks resting time before I can go back to work, but I'm healing just fine."
Mycroft sighed, realizing he would have to be more specific. "Are you certain? I only ask because it has come to my attention that you made a visit to a doctor two days ago. An ob-gyn to be specific and I'm concerned."
Rose's eyes flew wide as her face flushed a brilliant scarlet color. "Mycroft, however you came by that knowledge, please don't do that anymore. But I'm fine and there's no reason to be concerned. I'm fine, everything's fine, I was just getting a check." She reached for her glass of wine and gulped part of it down, wondering what circle of hell she was in that facilitated such a conversation with Mycroft.
A frown settled on his face. "A check? A check means there's a reason to be checked, or there has been in the past," Mycroft responded, his tone filled with concerned.
"No My, seriously. Women just need… checks," she tried to explain. Any second now her face was going to burst into flames it was that hot and red! "To… uh… make sure everything is fine. Which it is!" There was no way in hell Rose was going into the finer details of her appointment, let alone the fact that she was prescribed birth control! Whether or not Mycroft realized that she didn't really want to know, but it was entirely possible he was unaware and Rose wanted it to stay that way!
Nodding slowly, Mycroft processed this information. "So you're not unwell." That was one possibility eliminated then. What else would require a young lady to visit an ob-gyn's office, he mused. Then, it hit him, causing him to pause momentarily to brace himself for the possible answer to his next question. "Are you… have you…" Never in his life had Mycroft found himself at quite such a loss of words, or so fervently wishing the earth would open and swallow him whole. "Rosenwyn, are you…" Think of a delicate word, he mentally berated himself. "… Increasing?"
In the split second after he said 'increasing' Rose inwardly smiled, not realizing before how much her love of what she termed vintage verbiage, had been influenced by him. But that thought took only five seconds to process before it dawned on her what exactly he was asking her. Rose hadn't thought it was possible to be more uncomfortable or embarrassed until he asked that question. "What kind of question is that? You do realize how people get pregnant right? Do I look like I've had the time or physical capacity, let alone the opportunity to… to… for that to happen?!"
Coughing and shifting uncomfortably, Mycroft's face turned similarly red. "Good! That's very good. I know Mother emphasized that it was a wise choice to remain… chaste, shall we say, until you're married. I'm glad to see you were listening so that I don't have to have that conversation with you."
"That conversation?!" Rose shouted. "How are we even having this conversation? I have not had nearly enough to drink to have any conversation of this nature with you! There's probably not even enough liquor in the world to make this seem anywhere near normal. Good god Mycroft! Besides, I've got birth control now, so can we stop talking about this please?" The words left her mouth before Rose truly thought about them and upon hearing them she went completely pale, her eyes growing round and wide in shock.
If Rose had thought that little revelation would set her eldest brother's mind at ease she was very sadly mistaken, Mycroft thought wryly. Admittedly it took him a moment longer than it should have process that information, but he'd never anticipated those words, 'birth control,' being associated with his baby sister. What in the world did Rose need birth control for?! The horror of it all finally sunk in and Mycroft responded the only way he possibly could in this situation: "That woman needs her licensed pulled! Prescribing birth control to a child? That is outrageous! How dare she?!" he thundered.
Pushing her plate away, Rose put her head down on the table. "My god, Mycroft, I am not a child! Nor do I have any need to tell you anything about my body short of life threatening illness. I am a woman and my potential sex life with my boyfriend…" Rose's heart seemed to stop at that word and she immediately changed tactics. "HOW ARE WE EVEN HAVING THIS CONVERSATION RIGHT NOW?!" Her attempt at a thorough dressing down thusly ended in a high-pitched shriek, accompanied by a good stamp of her foot.
Silence reigned as Rose waited for him to respond and Mycroft grappled with how to best do that. "Admittedly, this is not how I envisioned this conversation evolving," he finally said quietly. "I was legitimately concerned for your health. After Mother…" His voice trailed off as his throat seemed to close. "I wanted to hear it from you that everything was alright, first and foremost. The rest was… an unfortunate assumption that spiraled out of control."
Taking a deep breath, Rose attempted to rein her temper in. While Mother hadn't died from any ailment associated with her reproductive organs, his point was well made; he didn't want to lose her too. Understanding the sincerity and concern that prompted the original question, she could, she supposed, forgive him for his big brother paranoia that spawned the second question.
Rose once again got up and rounded the table to hug Mycroft as tightly as she possibly could. "I'm sorry I shouted. I didn't realize you were thinking along those lines," she whispered. "Although inquiring if I'm pregnant is rather shocking for a whole host of reasons. Let's just never talk about these things ever again, alright?" It was times like these that Rose missed her mother most, knowing the Holmes matriarch would surely have swatted him upside the head for being so very ridiculous. In that moment, Rose felt particularly bereft and, somehow, woefully unqualified at being a woman.
"And I am immensely sorry that I asked anything at all," Mycroft admitted, holding her close. "You must promise to tell me the very second that there is even a suspicion that your health is in serious jeopardy."
There was absolutely no hesitation before she responded with a sincere, "I promise." Rose smiled as he gently pulled her into his lap and pressed a kiss against her temple.
"I apologize for-" Whatever Mycroft was about to say was rather loudly cut off as Rose's mobile ring tone went off, blaring lyrics from a Meghan Trainor song.
"Baby, don't call me your friend. If I hear that word again, you might never get a chance to see me naked in your bed!"
"Oh dear god," Rose muttered. She simultaneously rolled her eyes at the irony of it all as a wave of humiliation swept over her that coincided with her cheeks seeming to burst into flame. She pressed her face to the top of Mycroft's shoulder as the line played a second time before the mobile sent the caller to voicemail.
For several seconds neither of them did or said anything but it was Mycroft who recovered first, if one can call it a 'recovery.' Gently he pushed her off his shoulder and off his lap onto her feet. Crossing his arms over his chest, he quirked an eyebrow at her and asked in a frighteningly quiet tone, "What… was that?"
"A ringtone," Rose mumbled. "A very inconvenient one at that."
"I don't ever want to hear that rubbish again, do you hear me? That's obscene Rosenwyn!"
With what little self-preservation she had fleeing her, Rose snorted. "Well it's not like the ringtone I assigned to you!"
Mycroft felt nearly overcome by the urge to strangle his little sister, but managed to restrain himself for now. "Oddly enough I do not find that comforting Rosenwyn. Is it any wonder that I find it necessary to keep an eye on what you're doing, if that is what you consider appropriate? While we're on the subject just who is that vulgar ringtone assigned to?"
This was the seventh circle of hell, Rose was certain of it, because that was John's specific ringtone and they were entering worst case scenario territory in terms of revealing their relationship to Mycroft if things continued in this vein. "I'm sorry you think that's vulgar," Rose said with a sigh. "Look, this has turned into a disaster and I say we start over. I'm going to go back out the door, you're going to let me in again, and we'll start fresh without any of the nonsense we've been talking about. Please?"
Her tone and the look she gave him were particularly beseeching, and it gave Mycroft pause. A part of him wanted to find out what the hell was going on with his baby sister; another part wanted to pretend as if this conversation had never occurred at all. It was her next words that selected which part of him triumphed over the other.
"I'm so completely embarrassed right now," Rose whispered. "If we don't start our dinner over, I'm not certain I'll ever be able to look you in the face again without recalling all of this in detail and feeling horribly embarrassed. Let's pretend it didn't, please?"
Mycroft nodded his agreement. "That would probably be for the best." He smiled to himself as Rose headed towards the front door of the townhouse, determined to start their evening over. He waited until he heard the door open again before getting up from his chair.
"I thought that was you I heard," Mycroft greeted her as he came into the entry way. "I'm glad I caught you. I never did take you out for that celebratory dinner for your new title so I thought dinner at home might suffice while you're still resting. After we eat, I'll show you where I put that plaque of yours." Playing pretend had never come naturally for Mycroft, but he gave it his best effort just the same. Oh, the things he did for his Rose!
Late that night as Mycroft finally turned in for the night he began attempting to delete the disastrous first attempt at dinner. He was immensely relieved that Rose was not ill or pregnant but how he came by that information he would much prefer to forget. Why hadn't Mother ever warned him that all this sort of thing came with raising girls? He was so ill prepared!
Just as he was wiping the last of the conversation from his mind, one word caught his attention, standing big and bright in his mind palace. "Boyfriend…" he murmured. "Boyfriend. Boyfriend? She definitely said boyfriend." He moaned and closed his eyes, wondering when the trials of parenting ever ended.
The following day Mycroft made a considerable effort to find out just who this new boyfriend was. How had he not noticed there was one? How had Anthea not noticed there was one?
"She's spent a lot of time with Dr. Watson," Anthea pointed out. "See, there they are again." She clicked on a particular camera and they watched Rose and John walking hand in hand down the street. Rose was laughing, they were both smiling and then quite suddenly…
"Wait, wait, you did what?" Rose asked John. "You got what?"
John grinned and reached into a pocket of his coat, pulling out a pair of tickets.
"NO!" Rose shouted.
"Oh yes, very much yes," John laughed. "Here, take a look at them if you don't believe me."
Rose snatched the tickets from him, her eyes scanning them. Sure enough they were tickets for the Alfred Hitchcock film marathon at one of the local art houses. "Oh my god, how did you know?"
"You've only been talking about it and leaving notes around the flat about it," John replied. "I sort of got the message that you just might like to go."
She blushed a bit, looking slightly sheepish before suddenly throwing her arms around him. "Thank you, thank you!"
When she started to shout again with excitement, John quickly cut her off by smothering her lips with his own…
For several long moments Mycroft stared at the screen as he watched John Watson walk hand in hand with Rose and suddenly kiss her. And not just kiss her, but kiss her.
Anthea said nothing as she watched her boss and the show of emotions playing over face. Shock, horror, embarrassment, and a lastly white hot anger that etched itself into his face. And she had thought his reaction to the ob-gyn appointment was bad! "Sir… don't do anything that you will regret," Anthea warned softly.
"How dare he?!" Mycroft demanded, bringing his fist down hard on his desk. "HOW DARE HE?!"
Anthea did not have an answer for him.
NOTE: The secret is out! What is super over-protective big brother Mycroft going to do?! Give me your thoughts and suggestions!
ALSO I must beg a thousand pardons from you all for taking so very long to update this! Real life is big time kicking my arse right now. Please know I will update as frequently as I am able to and will try to do better! I hope you enjoy this long chapter and that it makes up for the wait time. Off I go back to grading the 135 essays I ignored today to finish this!