Pain; massive, massive pain. His brain, slowly beginning to wake for the day, began processing the world around him before John even opened his eyes. First and foremost was pain, because John's right arm was presently tingling in that most unpleasant way limbs only tingle and ache when they've been immobile for hours on end. Secondly came warmth, that of the sun on his face, making him wonder why the hell he hadn't closed his curtains the night before to prevent morning blindness! As he scrunched up his face, already squinting at the sunlight before even opening his eyes, he was assailed not only by the light but undeniable scent of lavender and the tickle of… hair? How could he be tickled by hair?

Squinting against the obtrusive sunshine and its blasted brightness, John slowly opened his eyes to discover dark curls on the pink pillow beside him. Blinking more, allowing his eyes to better focus to the brightness, he realized he was in Rose's room. Or, to be specific, in her bed, spooning with her. His tingling arm was tucked underneath her, pulling her closer to him, their fingers interlaced. No wonder his arm ached, it had been under her for hours!

Ignoring the ache- it was mind over matter really- John took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his eyes roamed the woman beside him. Dark curls stuck out at odd angles across the pink pillowcase, many of them tickling his chin. He watched her chest slowly rise and fall as she breathed, noted the contrast of her long dark eyelashes against her soft, pale skin, and smiled at how prominent her sprinkling of freckles looked in the bright sunlight. Rose was undeniably beautiful, inside and out, and John could definitely get used to waking up next to her every morning. Though admittedly he would prefer it be in less pink and sun-drenched surroundings!

After a few moments Rose began to stir, as if his thoughts had been loud enough to wake her. A sound resembling a mewling noise escaped as she stretched before opening her eyes. Smiling at the sunshine streaming in her window it took her a moment to realize her hand was being held and she was quite effectively being cradled to a strong, broad chest.

Before she could say a word, John brushed his lips across her cheek. "Morning," he murmured. "Is it alright if I move my arm or are you feeling quite attached to this particular position?"

Rose leaned up long enough for him to extract his arm before moving to lie on her back, looking up at John. "Morning," she greeted, reaching up to stroke his cheek with her hand. I could get used to this, she thought.

"Do you always leave your curtains open at night?" John asked.

Smiling at what seemed like an absurd question, she nodded, her curls shifting on the pillow as she did so. "Yes; I love waking up to the sunshine when we're blessed enough to have it."

"I hate waking up to the sunshine," John grumbled half-heartedly. He captured his hand with his own and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss on the palm. "Thank you for everything last night. For being there and letting me stay. I haven't slept that well after a nightmare in… Well, ever really," he admitted.

"You're welcome," Rose murmured. "It just seemed right. I hated seeing you so upset and it was…" she paused, attempting to gather her thoughts. "It was surprisingly physically painful," she concluded after a moment's thought. "To see you that unsettled and hurting."

John smiled fondly at her, shaking his head. "My darling girl, you are the world's biggest hypocrite," he announced with a chuckle.

Rose scrunched up her nose as she pondered what he meant and when it hit her, her face bloomed red. "Oh."

"'Oh,' she says," John teased. "But honestly, do you understand now why it bothers me so much to think about you dealing with something like that all on your own when there are people right next door that love you to pieces?" Certainly he would much prefer that Rose come to him when she had nightmares rather than Sherlock, merely because he wanted to be the one to hold and comfort her. But he had no intention of edging Sherlock out of the comforting process if that was who Rose wanted at a particular moment. After all, it wasn't a competition, nor would he make it one.

With her eyes focusing on his chest, rather than looking at his face, Rose nodded. "John, I'm in a very strange place right now," she commented with a heavy sigh.

The doctor frowned slightly at her words, trying to sort out what she might mean by them. One would think between she and Sherlock he'd be quite used to discerning Holmesian subtexts by now, but shockingly enough he wasn't.

Tucking a finger under her chin, he tipped her head up to look at his face once again. "I have no idea what that means, love," John admitted. He smiled when she scrunched up her nose as she so often did when focusing hard on something. Unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed the bridge of Rose's nose, drawing an adorable squeak from her. "Please enlighten me, because I'm reasonably sure you don't mean that your bed is a strange place."

"I'm sort of in a strange place in my life. I'm an adult, clearly, but I'm still attempting to prove that fact to my brothers, Mycroft in particular, and it seems counterproductive to go searching for a cuddle in the middle of the night because I had a nightmare," Rose explained. "Somehow I seemed to be trapped in this limbo state of not quite an adult in their eyes yet obviously not a little girl either. It's… frustrating."

"I'd wager yesterday went a long way towards proving to Mycroft that you're an adult," John countered, a look of pride crossing his face. "And it's only natural to want comfort when you're hurting, darling, no matter what the cause of it or what time of day it happens to be. It's human nature. And I highly doubt that Sherlock would consider your need for comfort to be a slight against your independence. After all, when it comes to you, he's particularly… human. Affectionate."

"He secretly enjoys touch as much as the next person, there's just few he's willing to accept it from. It's a trust issue," Rose admitted. "And he has overall been very supportive of me since I returned. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, and I suppose I got used to a certain level of self-soothing and self-reliance while I was away."

"Well get used to not being so self-soothing," John said firmly. "I'm here for you and it would be an honor to dry your tears at 4:30 in the morning and cuddle you back to sleep."

Rose blushed prettily and closed her eyes for a moment before beginning to giggle softly.

"Oh, funny am I?" John asked, uncertain whether or not he should be insulted. "I'm completely serious you know."

"We're like a rom-com," Rose laughed. "Now I say, "Where have you been all my life, John?" and you say, "I've been waiting my whole life for you, Rose," and the scene ends with a kiss, or mad love making depending on the film's classification." She shook her head, smiling brightly at him before sobering a bit.

"Are you real John? Are you really real?" she asked softly, her eyes searching his. What she was looking for Rose wasn't certain, she only knew she couldn't tear her eyes away from John's.

"As real as the freckles on your face, which I must admit look particularly sweet in the damned sunlight," John responded. He moved to kiss the burst of freckles across her cheek bone but stopped short and pulled back from her slightly. "Wait just a minute... Are you implying that I'm not always nice and sweet to you?" An eyebrow quirked as he

Mischief twinkled in Rose's eyes as she tapped her chin, appearing to think very seriously about his question. "No, definitely not implying," she decided. "Out right accusing is the correct terminology, John. I can think of…" she paused to slowly count out the number on her fingers. "Four instances in particular. They stick out very clearly in my mind."

"Four particular instances?" John repeated slowly. He wracked his brain for a moment until it dawned on him- Rose was referencing the number of times he'd spanked her. It was clear she was teasing about it though, and he was definitely in a mood to tease in return.

"Oh, is that it? Just four times? Let's make it an even handful, shall we?" Before she could respond, John easily wrapped his arms around her and rolled her on top of him. As she squeaked in surprise, he sat up a bit in the bed and carefully maneuvered her across his lap.

"John! John! John, I haven't done anything yet!" Rose cried out, sounding a bit alarmed.

"Yet?!" he asked incredulously. "Haven't done anything yet?" John started to laugh. "Definitely need to make it five then and preempt any and all mischief brewing in that sharp mind of yours." As Rose called out again, though she no longer sounded alarmed, his hand was already poised in mid-air. It came down seconds later, lightly smacking her pajama covered bottom. "Is this what you were talking about darling?" John asked as he swatted her a few more times.

"Yes, yes!" Rose squealed. Initially concerned that John was actually going to spank her for as yet uncommitted naughtiness, as soon as she heard him laugh, she relaxed and recognized that he was simply being playful. "Jooooooooohn!" she called out in an overdramatic tone, before beginning to giggle as several more swats fell.

"Giggling? Are you seriously giggling? I must be doing it all wrong then! I'll just have to try harder," John responded, giving a dramatic shake of his head. Rose immediately responded with a, "Noooooo!" but instead of continuing on, he gently turned her back over.

"John Watson, you are a horrible individual," Rose declared amidst giggles. She immediately snuggled against his chest, lying on her good side of course, and let him wrap his arms around her.

"And you are absolutely incorrigible. 'I haven't done anything yet,'" John mimicked. He laughed as her face flushed and she momentarily pressed it against his chest, though he wasn't certain if it was sudden shyness or an attempt to keep from giggling that drove her to it.

"Just give me time John," she murmured when she finally looked up at him. "I'm certain I'll manage to come up with something!" Rose wiggled her eyebrows at him, grinning madly as she did so.

He laughed once more. "I don't know why I'm laughing because I know that's entirely true!" John leaned down slightly, intending to give her a kiss, only to be met by her hand instead.

"Morning breath," she commented when he frowned at her. "Best wait until later on."

"Oi! Quiet you, I'm trying to kiss you!" Regardless of her morning breath objections, John moved his mouth over hers, slowly at first then more insistently. A wave of pleasure rolled through him when Rose immediately responded in kind. She let out a happy sounding little hum when the kiss finally broke, bringing a smile to his face.

"All prior teasing aside, you've been… very excellent," Rose murmured, speaking with as reasonable a voice as she could manage when her heart was beating wildly within her chest. "Fairytale quality, let's say."

John's lips curved into an unconscious smile that lingered for just a moment before fading slightly. "All teasing aside, all playfulness aside too," he began. "Your six weeks healing period is almost up and then you and I are going to be having some very serious conversations about your propensity to half-kill yourself." He gave her bottom a firm pat, clearly indicating that said conversations would involve both verbal and non-verbal communication.

As her face flushed, Rose made a gesture with her hand, imitating a plane nose diving into the mattress and bursting into flames, complete with appropriate sound effects. "That was our romantic moment," she stated, in case John might be confused about what she was implying. "Gone down in flames, and not even flames of glory at that."

Chuckling, John shook his head. "Sorry love. I've got rather attached to you, I'd sort of like you to stick around for a while, even if that means I've got to utilize unpleasant means of persuasion to make that happen." When Rose let out a huff, he put his finger under her chin and tipped her head up so he could look into her eyes. "Darling, you know it's because I care, right?"

Rather than huff again, Rose let out a long-suffering sigh instead. "I know; just don't expect me to be happy about it." Almost as if to illustrate her point, she moved from half-sitting in his lap to lying beside him once more. Cuddling close to his side, she simultaneously pulled the bedding up to her chin. "Cold," she complained when John shot her a questioning look.

John immediately pulled her into his arms, making certain to keep the bedding tucked tightly against her, and began to rub her arms with his hands underneath the blankets. "Better?" he asked after a few moments, giving her a soft smile that grew a bit wider when she nodded and gave a happy hum.

"Could we maybe go out my last night? Before everyone starts trying to take me to task?" Rose asked. "We haven't been out much lately. Not that I'm unhappy with cozy nights in," she hurried to assure him. "But it's nice to get out, too."

Smiling thoughtfully, John nodded. "Yeah, I think we could manage that. A week from today, we'll go out and celebrate your recovery, pending good news at your doctor's office. I've heard he's a fantastic doctor that only takes the very best care of his patient."

Rose laughed and tipped her head up to kiss him before snuggling even closer, letting out a contented sigh. For the next several minutes they laid there together quietly until John was almost convinced that Rose had fallen asleep again.

"I have the most brilliant idea," Rose announced suddenly. When John hummed in response, she continued on, her voice laced with excitement. "Let's spend the whole day, right here, and not even leave this bed today for anything at all. We'll pretend the world doesn't exist outside this bed."

His eyes searched the room, looking for a clock; something he should have done earlier but hadn't felt inclined to. Already it was half nine. "That sounds like a marvelous idea, but one we'll have to save for another day," John admitted. "The best I've got is another two hours before I need to leave for my shift at surgery. I could make us some brunch though, to eat in bed. How's that sound as an alternative?"

"That seems like a fair compromise," she agreed. "And coffee?"

Chuckling, John pulled her closer to him. "Deny you your coffee, my darling girl? Never!" He promptly kissed her, as if he were sealing the vow to never deprive Rose of her beloved coffee. Feeling her pressing against him even more, her arms going around his neck, John took the opportunity to press a few kisses along her jaw before reclaiming her mouth.

At least he attempted to reclaim her mouth, only to have Rose jump away from him as though he were on fire. More than a little confused, John opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when Rose pressed a finger to her lips. It was then that the distinctive sound of a key jiggling within a lock met his ears.

Shaking her head just once, Rose signaled again for him to be quiet. It wasn't an intruder, obviously, since a key was being used. Or rather, it was not an intruder in the traditional sense of the word. It was bound to be one of her brothers, either of which would very much intrude on her lovely morning with John and potentially have a heart attack upon finding them both in her bed!

The sounds of the door being opened stopped as Sherlock stepped inside the flat, his eyes scanning the immediate area for John. It wasn't wholly unusual for him to not 'come home' in a sense after spending time with Rose and Sherlock was losing count of the number of times he had found them fast asleep together after watching films late into the night. He expected to find them in that same scenario once more, but instead found no one at all in Rose's sitting room.

"Rose?" he called tentatively. "Rose, are you here? Have you seen John this morning? Lestrade's got a case."

Mouthing expletives, Rose did not respond. Instead, she threw John a helpless, rather apologetic look, knowing that discovery was imminent.

Advancing through the sitting room, Sherlock peeked in the kitchen and the loo and found both empty. Yet Rose was certainly home; her coat was still in his flat, where she always seemed to leave it, and her purse was on the table. He debated for several seconds whether or not he should wake Rose, assuming that her lack of response was due to her still being asleep. Though he hated to wake her, and god knew a Rose woken before she was good and ready to be could be a very cranky Rose indeed, it was vital that he find out if she knew where John was. The texts and calls Sherlock had been making for the past ten minutes had gone unanswered, leaving him with little choice but to wake her.

Decision made, Sherlock proceeded to push open the partially closed bedroom door. At the last second he added a firm knock, knowing Rose would appreciate the gesture even if he had no intention of waiting for her permission to enter the room.

Yet as soon as he did enter the room, Sherlock very much wished he had waited for permission! There in Rose's bed were she and John amid a tangle of bed clothes, in what appeared to be various degrees of undressed, their bodies far too close together for his comfort.

A long moment of silence stretched on as the three of them shared looked with one another without saying a word. Part of Rose wanted to demand that her brother leave because she was, after all, an adult woman and who she did and did not have in her bed was her own business. Yet another part of her inexplicably felt the need to apologize as if she'd done something wrong. Though admittedly, that might have been greatly influenced by the horrified look on Sherlock's face.

Clearing his throat, John attempted to find something to say, anything to say really. Who would have anticipated that this moment would be so incredibly uncomfortable? He couldn't decide whether he should expect Sherlock to deck him, if he should tell Sherlock to leave, or if he should have pity on the man for walking into this and assuming the worst. Well, the worst in Sherlock's book anyway. No one liked the thought of their sister in bed with someone, let alone the sight of it, particularly when that someone was your best friend.

"I can explain!" Rose blurted out, effectively ending the awkward silence. "This is not what it looks like Sherlock. I…We-"

"No!" Sherlock half-shouted, cutting her off. "No! You-" He pointed his finger at her briefly before turning it on himself. "And I, no! No, we are not! We are not having this conversation under any circumstances whatsoever!"

Whatever she had been expecting him to say, Rose had not anticipated the panic ridden tone and look of sheer…What exactly? Dear god, Rose thought as it dawned on her. He's embarrassed! That was a far sight better than angry, but that look and the accompanying color rising on his face. In that moment, Rose actually pitied him, because she could only imagine was what running through that sharp mind of his.

Knowing his embarrassment was palpable, if not visible, Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut and turned his back towards the bed. "I am going to erase the last few moments from my memory," he ground out through clenched teeth. "And I'm going to do that in the sitting room while you two…" Get dressed? Pull yourselves together? Make yourselves decent? All the customary verbiage for this scenario was wholly repugnant. "John we have a case," Sherlock finally said. "Lestrade needs us at a crime scene." He didn't bother to wait for a response before heading into the sitting room, eyes still closed as he busily scrubbed this from his mind palace.

"Hey! Why's this door open? Sherlock, what're you doing?" a voice called from the doorway. "Rose is going to murder you if you broke in to put nasty bits in her fridge!"

It was a voice Rose would recognize anywhere, that of her best friend Louise. "Because of course she drops by unannounced right this minute," Rose muttered under her breath.

"Go away Louise!" Sherlock snapped. "JOHN! HURRY UP!" The faster they left the building, the more normal he'd feel.

Rather than be deterred by Sherlock's tone, Louise stepped inside the flat and put her purse down in the couch. "Why are you calling for John in here?" The moment the words left her mouth, the answer dawned on her. "Ooooh!" Immediately her attention snapped to the open bedroom door where Rose and John were still in bed, or, if one asked them, in hell.

"Hey, hey!" Louise called. "Well done you! You have to tell me everything!" She let out a little squeal of excitement and darted over to the door where she then casually greeted John with a knowing smile.

"Oh dear god," Rose groaned, flopping back onto a pillow. "Lou, please don't get started, this is not what it looks like!"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it's exactly what it looks like! I'm so excited for you and you have to give me all the details! John, can you go away now so I can hear how good you are in bed? Sort of awkward if you're here while we're discussing that bit," Louise pointed out, waving her hand dismissively at him.

John opened his mouth, intending to tell Louise off when Rose beat him to it.

"ENOUGH!" Rose shouted. "You and Sherlock go next door now. We'll come for you in a few moments. I am in bed with my boyfriend and I will not be made to feel badly about it! Neither is this some sort of… of… spectacle!"

Getting out of bed, Rose stomped across the room and slammed the door, then leaned against it for good measure as she closed her eyes. A long moment passed as she could hear Sherlock and Louise exiting the flat. Only when she heard the front door close did Rose open her eyes and let out a sigh. She could feel the complete and utter embarrassment of the last several minutes blooming across her face.

Pushing aside those feelings, Rose turned her attention to John, who was still in her bed. "These are my people," she half-lamented. "And this is, apparently, my life. Are you quite certain this is something you want to get tangled up in John?"

With a chuckle John got up and crossed the room to where she still stood, leaning against the door. One hand cupped her right cheek, his thumb brushing gently across it as he looked into her brilliant blue eyes. "I am absolutely certain," he said quietly. "Madness and all."

"Then you, John Watson, are a fool," Rose responded with a smile.

Seeing the amusement in her eyes, John laughed and shook his head. "As long as that makes me your fool, I can live with that." Encircling her waist with one arm, John pulled her towards him, intending to kiss her soundly, only to be rudely interrupted by a shout from next door.

"JAWWWWN!"

Sighing, John pressed a quick kiss against her lips before slipping out of the room and heading for 221B.

Louise stood awkwardly on the landing, watching as Sherlock and John descended the stairs. Turning to face Rose, she gave her a bit of a sheepish look, her face beginning to resemble the color of her red hair, and shrugged a bit.

"Look, I'm s-"

"I shouldn't h-"

The simultaneous apologies broke off into giggles. Rose wrapped her arms around Louise and hugged her tightly before pulling her into the flat. "Come on, I haven't had any coffee yet and I'm dying! I'll make us both some and scrambled eggs or something." She closed the door behind them and headed straight for the kitchen to start the coffee maker.

Louise tagged along, plopping a bag on the counter near the coffee maker. "I brought a huge cheese Danish with me! It was early-ish, so I thought you might like breakfast." She flashed Rose a smile as she took in her best friend's loose flannel pajama bottoms covered in paw prints and the matching baggy pajama top that featured the sketch of a dog. They were not the items immediately brought to Louise's mind when one thought about dressing for seduction, but perhaps Rose knew something she didn't!

"I really am sorry; timing isn't always my thing," Louise admitted. "There was prolly a better time to ask and get all excited about the fact that you and John slept together! He does know that we wouldn't discuss his prowess in front of him for real, right? And how exactly did you coax him into bed with you wearing… well… those adorable but not sexy pjs?" She wriggled her eyebrows at her friend, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

Rose laughed and shook her head. "I hope he'd know! But I'll reassure him about it later on. As for these pajamas, they were not meant for seduction, largely because I hadn't planned on it." Her face flushed a bit as she took plates down from the cupboard, offering one to Louise.

"Girl, I'm bursting with excitement! Tell me all the details right now! How was it? Was it all soft and sweet or hot and heavy? Is he big? Did you achieve the big O? Details, quickly, details!"

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait for the details Lou, because John and I did not have sex," Rose said quietly, taking a seat beside her best friend.

"No! No way! You were in bed together and its morning!" Louise pointed out rather needlessly. "How does that happen if you did have sex?"

"John and I fell asleep last night and he ended up having a nightmare. It was a pretty bad one I think, he was so upset." Seeing John so vulnerable and hurting had almost broken her heart. "I asked if he wanted to stay, if it would help him sleep if he could just hold on to me. So that's what happened."

Louise groaned loudly and slumped in her chair. "What a perfect opportunity wasted! Oh well, you need some better pjs if you're doing to be seducing anyone anyway."

Rolling her eyes, Rose shook her head and drank several gulps of her coffee. "I have plenty of seduction worthy outfits, have no fear! When I need it, I'll be prepared."

That was a bit of a stretch, or maybe a lot of a stretch if Rose was honest with herself, but lingerie had not been one of the things she'd considered just yet when it came to John. Perhaps Louise was right in that respect- she ought to invest in some. But how would she ever manage to do that without Mycroft finding out? If he could figure out they were dating and that she went to get birth control, Rose wasn't certain she could really keep anything at all from the man, not to mention the fact that his name was on her bank account! That, however, was a problem to be solved at another time!

"Not that I don't enjoy seeing your smiling, excitable face in the morning," Rose continued. "But what brings you here this particular morning?"

"Our illustrious leader asked if I'd mind dropping off the soundtracks for your upcoming competitions. Bonnie signed you up for three of them in the next thirteen weeks. The first of which is four weeks from today," Louise pointed out. She fished the CDs from her large purse while Rose groaned loudly.

"That's going to give us just three weeks to prepare for that one, and then turn around and learn all sorts of new things," Rose half-whined. If only she could be done resting today! She took the CDs from Louise and looked them over, nodding in approval at most of the music choices. "This is what I get for telling Bonnie I really need to be going to more competitions in order to qualify for championships next year. Can you imagine me at Blackpool?"

"I can! You'll be brilliant as always. I'll be your loudest cheerleader, or your hair and make-up girl if you'll let me again!" Louise offered. "It's the closest you and I ever come to dancing together anymore. Sort of went our separate ways in styles, us two. Don't sweat it though Rose, you're the best choreographer at the studio by far and as long as Alfred doesn't start dropping you all over the place, you two will be great, even if you don't have as much prep time as you'd like."

"I sure hope you're right," Rose sighed. Standard competition in four weeks, Latin three weeks later, and a festival of various dance types three weeks after that. It would be a rat race with no down time at all. And no John time most likely either.

Louise easily interpreted these thoughts from the rather dejected look on her best friend's face. "Aw, you and John will still find time together. I know you will! But I bet you could use some cheering up, or at least some boredom alleviation, and I have just the thing!"

"Killian?!" Rose asked hopefully. One could never tire of watching the dashing pirate on Once Upon a Time after all, and what better way to put a smile on one's face?

"Sadly, no, we're caught up on seasons until the dvds come out over here," Louise responded with a sigh. "Lucky bastards in the states. But… there is a ton of Take Me Out on YouTube we can binge watch! Bring the danish and coffee, let's watch humanity at its finest!"

Nearly eighteen hours after being called to the crime scene, Sherlock and John were finally back at Baker Street. Dawn was only a few hours away and John, at least, was exhausted and looking forward to something to eat and then collapsing in bed at the earliest opportunity.

"I'm bored," Sherlock announced as their cab parked along the curb.

"We just solved a case. A case that was, I quote 'a solid eight'," John pointed out somewhat irritably. It had been hours and hours since he'd last eaten properly and it was far past the time for normal human beings such as himself to be asleep.

Not that such human failings ever plagued Sherlock; heavens no! Nor did it give the detective any sort of patience with such needs, earning John a dramatic eye roll and sigh each time he stopped at the vending machine, let out a yawn, or look the least bit tired. Not that John wasn't used to it of course, because he certainly was and expected no less, but that didn't always mean he enjoyed it at bloody 430 in the morning!

"We didn't just solve it John. We solved it four hours ago and were then held hostage by Lestrade for tedious paperwork and statements and Anderson's mind numbing drivel and propensity to contaminate evidence," Sherlock corrected. He stepped out of the cab, leaving John to pay as he usually did, and entered the building.

At the top of the stairs he reached for the door handle and rolled his eyes at finding it locked, forcing Sherlock to locate his key from the depths of one pocket and unlock it. When he stepped inside, unsurprisingly, Rose was fast asleep on their couch, the telly still on. Sherlock motioned for John to be quiet as the doctor joined him, whispering, "Open my bedroom door, will you? I'm going to put her to bed. Why she's here more often than in her own flat I have no idea, but my bed is closer than hers at the moment."

Crossing the room, Sherlock carefully extracted the orange shock blanket from her hands and moved it away before scooping her up in his arms. He couldn't resist smiling at her, having always thought Rose looked the sweetest, and most angelic, when she slept. Once his bedroom door was open, Sherlock carried her into his room and tucked her into bed, taking a moment to fuss with the bed clothes and make certain they were snug around her. After pressing a kiss to her forehead, Sherlock exited his bedroom with a spare pillow for himself for the couch.

"She left us a note," John commented when Sherlock emerged. He pointed to a piece of paper taped to the door before taking it down.

Sherlock and John: If I'm asleep when you get home, there is poulet basquaise in the fridge that you an easily warm up for whatever meal you arrive in time to eat. It will be easy to spot among the bits of bodies and other odd growing things, promise. Love, Rose

P.S. Sherlock, please do eat. xx

Smiling at the sweet gesture, John hurried into the kitchen and opened the fridge, chuckling quietly when he saw the container in question. It boasted a sticky note with the words EAT ME! written in large letters, making it impossible to miss. "Looks like chicken something," he commented, showing the container to Sherlock.

"It's a pepper and tomato chicken stew," Sherlock confirmed, a smile spreading across his face. "One of my favorites in fact." He retrieved some bowls from the cupboard as John pouted the container's contents into a small pot and placed it on the stove.

"Rose's resting period is nearly up," John commented as he turned on the burner. "Should we perhaps coordinate our efforts in dealing with that?" As much as he looked forward to Rose being freed from her enforced rest, John admittedly wasn't looking forward to addressing certain issues with her. He would do it, of course, but he wouldn't enjoy it.

Sherlock nodded. "Within the next day or so, Mycroft will be texting and wish to meet with me to discuss that very thing, I'm sure. He'll call it a parenting conference or something equally stupid." He glared at his mobile where it sat on the counter as if it would somehow send his glare to the eldest Holmes. "I have a feeling he's going to be rather unyielding about participating this time round, regardless of the fact that this is supposed to be my area and is likely to be completely insufferable."

"Well don't count me out of things," John cautioned. "She's got a lot to answer to me for, particularly googling at home medical care." He shook his head and let out a sigh, knowing precisely how inaccurate and even dangerous some of the internet's advice could be.

"I have no intentions of doing so," Sherlock assured him. "Mycroft, on the other hand, will likely not be expecting you to join us and may object. Unfortunately that will just be too bad for him. You're rather a part of this, and have been for a while, but even more so now."

John raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "I don't think Mycroft is going to be keen on anything having to do with me anytime soon," he admitted. "I suppose I don't really blame him in a way, but a bit less animosity might be helpful."

Sherlock hummed in response and retrieved a ladle that looked relatively safe to dish up their now gently boiling soup. "He'll come round, for her sake, and see what I see. Don't mistake me for being more liberal minded when it comes to Rose and men," he cautioned. "However, I cannot think of anyone else I would like or approve. You are, essentially, the exception to my rule."

Passing a full bowl over to his flat mate, John gave him a smile. He knew it was quite a gift for Sherlock to trust him so much with Rose and one he had no intentions to take advantage of. "Have you given any thought to what you're going to do?" he asked, taking a seat at the table.

"Do?" Sherlock repeated.

"With Rose."

"Ah." The detective nodded curtly. "It will depend largely on what Mycroft does. I won't be able to talk him out of being involved in this and he's… Well, I have a feeling he's going to come down quite hard on her. I swear he takes it as some sort of personal affront that she dare to jeopardize her own health and safety after the many years he spent raising her," Sherlock admitted. "So my response will largely be tempered by his. After all, we can't all three of us spank her; that would be most excessive. I'm willing to let you and Mycroft speak for me on that front."

John could sense an 'and' coming, but it never did. "And?" he prompted. He looked over at Sherlock, more than a little surprised to see a bit of pink flushing his cheeks.

"I know her very, very well John," Sherlock reminded his friend. "Behind the film marathons, the cooking, the reading, the cuddling, there is a not insignificant amount of depression hiding there. As someone whose work defines them, gives them life, as Rose's dancing does for her, I find my resolve to draw a hard line with her waning. She's had a very steep price to pay, giving up what is essentially part of her identity and self-worth for six weeks. I am unconvinced there is any sort of punishment I could mete out that would make a better impression upon her than that."

Sherlock let out a sigh, almost as if he were a bit exasperated with himself. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, I fear Mycroft is correct. In this instance at least, I am in fact a bleeding heart when it comes to my Rosie."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing, you know," John replied with a chuckle. "It's not a human failing, its called love, Sherlock. Love and understanding, which are important things to have, especially in situations like this. Besides, as you said before, it's not like all three of us can spank her! Poor thing wouldn't have a bum left," he laughed.

"Indeed," Sherlock replied, chuckling himself. "Have you thought about what you intend to do?"

"A bit. More than anything I've been thinking about the conversation I want to have with her and try to come to an understanding that will allow her to come to me when she's injured without fearing my automatically forcing her to withdraw," John said thoughtfully. "That's my focus on it; preventative medicine."

Standing up from the table, John took his bowl to the sink, rinsing it before setting it down. "Well I'm knackered, so I'm off to bed. Goodnight Sherlock."

The detective murmured a reply, inwardly mulling over the possibilities of what to do with the most precious thing in his life. Unable to stop himself, his gaze wandered towards his bedroom door and a smile spread across his face as memories of raising his precious baby sister spilled out of her room in his mind palace.

NOTE: I am so incredibly sorry for the horribly long wait for this chapter! Mortified might actually be a better word for it, even. For whatever reason I thought taking 3 grad courses while working 2 jobs was completely do-able. Turns out, not so much. Or rather, it's do-able, but leaves very, very little time for anything else, including sleep! I'll do my best not to keep you waiting so long for the next chapter. Please know that I am plugging away at chapters little by little in the rare snatches of time I can claim between all the madness that is my life. Please don't ever give up on my stories, I have absolutely no intention of ending Rose's adventures anytime in the near future! Thank you so much to all my readers and supporters, your comments and kudos mean everything!