"No!" Rose gasped. "Three couples in dead heat and they throw a freestyle jazz round at you to sort out the winner? That's insane!" As her first day back at practice began to wind down, Rose and Alfred were taking a much needed break. It was a break to catch their breath and to catch up on the latest news with one another, particularly the jazz competitions Alfred and Louise had done during Rose's absence.
"It was insanity and they gave us just twenty minutes to listen to the music and come up with something. My mind went totally blank," Alfred admitted. "Because the music was so random and purposely meant to trip us up I think. The other two couples seemed terrified and Louise was all 'Oh, I got this!'"
"What song was it?" Rose asked. "I would imagine not many songs or scenarios could throw off good dancers. For a minute while you think it through, but not for much longer than that." She smiled as Louise pulled her mobile out and selected the song. Psy's 'Gangnam Style' blasted from the mobile's speakers, causing Rose to let out a squeal. "How did you cope with that? Please tell me you put parts of that silly dance in there, please!"
"Oh please, of course we did!" Louise replied. "Come on Al, let's show Rose our stuff!" With Rose looking on, Louise and Alfred began doing the Gangnam Style dance, interspersing jazz moves when at certain points. Somehow they managed to make it seem perfectly logical in a delightfully chaotic way.
"I am really, really impressed! Look at you two go!" Rose called out. "Lemme join in!" The three of them began imitating the fake horse-riding moves, laughing hysterically as they did so.
Inside the viewing booth, a loud sigh cut through the tension that had been building in the small space. Just half an hour before, John had arrived at the studio and joined Mycroft in the booth. He quickly found himself in silent, yet hostile territory with the tension hanging thickly between he and the eldest Holmes. That sigh, however, quickly banished the tension, at least temporarily.
"It's great to see her smiling like that again, isn't it?" John asked, turning his head a bit to look at Mycroft.
"If you are inquiring as to my sigh, I assure it that it was not out of relief," Mycroft commented, sighing once more. "Thousands and thousands of pounds I spent on her dance education and this is the result: Rose galloping around like a lunatic to one of the most idiotic songs known to man." Yet even as he complained, the start of a smile tipped the corners of Mycroft's mouth just a little. It was hard to resist smiling at Rose's antics, much as it always had been. At least the safer antics at any rate!
"But she's happy and if looking silly like that makes her happy then I'm all for it," John murmured. He let out of a sigh of his own as the silence resumed. "I'm not the enemy, you know. If you prefer to operate in a vacuum of silence we can do that, but I'm not going anywhere and I certainly have no intensions of hurting her."
The two men shared a look; both appeared quiet and calm on the surface but beneath that were the 'real' faces. One was resolute, steadfast, firm and loyal; the other was authoritative, protective, and faintly smirking. "You may not think you are the enemy, Dr. Watson, but you have yet to prove to me that you are worthy of her," Mycroft responded in a dull tone, as if the conversation bored him.
John nodded slowly. "I have just one question for you: would any man be acceptable to you and gain your approval?"
There was a long pause before Mycroft responded, saying simply, "No."
The doctor let out a low whistle. "I've got my work cut out for me then." When Mycroft simply looked annoyed, John could only grin.
"Alright, I am foxtrot-ed out," Rose finally announced a few hours later when 'Sway' by The Pussycat Dolls ended. She had that whole clip memorized by now and was already growing a bit sick of it. After all, PCD was no Dean Martin! "It's been a good, long day, we've done well and I need to collapse now."
"Well that doesn't sound good," Alfred laughed. "Don't be collapsing anymore or all those men of yours won't let you come back!"
Rose smiled and shook her head as she wrapped her arms around Alfred's neck. He lifted her up off the ground, making her laugh before gently putting her back on her feet. "Are all those men of mine the reason you never came to visit me that whole six weeks?"
Alfred nodded. "I was the one dropping you so much and I thought I might be in mortal danger or something should I show my face round Baker Street! It's really good to have you back though." He smiled and patted the top of her head, smirking when Rose stuck her tongue out at him.
"It's great to be back," Rose assured him with a smile. "And I have no intensions of leaving you to Louise's mercies ever again. She'll steal you away for your jazz and tap abilities and leave me high and dry without a partner! But you wouldn't have been in mortal danger had you stopped in at Baker Street to say hi. Mycroft has better things to do, Sherlock thinks it's my fault for pushing us both so hard, and John would have scolded at worst, so you're in the clear."
"Speaking of…" Alfred inclined his head in the direction of the doorway.
Rose immediately turned her head to see what he was looking at. A smile crossed her tired face as she saw John leaning against the door frame with that slightly crooked grin of his. "You're a sight for tired eyes," she decided, closing the distance between them until she stood before him. She stayed just out of cuddle range, knowing that she was dripping in sweat and desperately needed a shower which did not make for the best cuddles.
"Am I?" John asked, returning her smile as he reached out to cup her cheek. His observant doctor's eyes took in the signs of exhaustion in her eyes, her stance, and all over her face. While he had observed her taking breaks, having snacks and plenty of water while in the viewing room, it was clear that Rose had pushed herself hard today. Perhaps too hard, given her very recent and undoubtedly thorough smacking. "I was going to offer to take you out to dinner but by the looks of you what I need to do is take you straight home and to bed."
"DR. WATSON!" Mycroft thundered as he exited the viewing booth just in time to catch John's comment. "That is-"
John, however, was not about to be made to feel as if he was being inappropriate or be treated as if he were an idiot. He quickly turned around and met Mycroft's outraged look with an authoritative one of his own. "In my capacity as a doctor," he interrupted, using what Rose called his 'Captain' tone. "As her doctor in fact. She's showing all the signs of exhaustion despite the precautions she took today with her breaks and snacks. Her body is no longer used to working this hard after six weeks without exercise of any sort. As her doctor I am saying she needs to go straight home to bed. A little professional courtesy wouldn't go amiss." John arched an eyebrow at Mycroft in warning before turning back towards the patient in question.
Rose stood there, her mouth gaping open as she looked between her boyfriend and her brother. Nobody spoke to Mycroft that way; at least not if they ever wanted to be seen or heard from again! She and Sherlock were perhaps the only exceptions to that rule, and only marginal exceptions at best. Rose was alternately proud of John for standing up to Mycroft's interference and inappropriate assumption and rather horrified at Mycroft's outburst. Just as Mycroft was about to respond to the bit of a dressing down John gave him, Rose cut off both men.
"Gentlemen," she said warningly as she moved to stand between the two men. "I would truly hope that making me happy would be of more importance than bickering with one another, which does not, as it so happens, please me." Rose cocked an eyebrow and stared both men down for several seconds before continuing on. "Mycroft, I would appreciate it if you did not look for, or invent, reasons to criticize John. He would not make inappropriate comments in front of you. And John," she turned to look at her boyfriend. "He's my brother, he's not going anywhere, and we can't ever escape him so…"
Mycroft began to smirk, assuming that John would receive a slight dressing down as well.
"… So well done you for standing up to him and forgive him because he's Mycroft. He can't really help himself," Rose finished. She could feel Mycroft's scowl going right through her it was so intense! "And now I need a shower and then John I need you to help me home because I'm not sure how much longer I'll manage to stay upright."
Immediately Mycroft exited the room, returning seconds later with Louise in tow. "Make certain she doesn't fall over in the changing room, will you?" he requested of the redhead.
"Aye, aye, cap'n!" Louise quipped, offering Mycroft a salute before bursting into giggles.
Mycroft rolled his eyes at her before turning towards Rose once more. "Sister mine, do try to not damage yourself too terribly before I see you again." He made no move to hug her as public displays of affection were not something he could countenance in a situation like this.
Despite the lack of a cuddle, Rose knew precisely what Mycroft really meant. "I love you, too, Mycroft. We'll do dinner or something soon, yeah?" When he inclined his head in silent agreement, Rose gave him a brilliant smile before he turned and left the practice studio.
"I'm not going to have to climb right into the shower with you, am I?" Louise asked. Her eyes were filled with concern as they looked Rose up and down. "We can do that if necessary, but I'd like to know up front, thanks."
Laughing, Rose shook her head. "No, just wait outside of it in case you hear a loud crash, at which point you should enter the shower immediately because I might be half dead."
Grinning, Louise gave Rose a squeeze before looking in John's direction. "I'll bring her back safe and sound in a tick!" Waving him off with one hand, Louise wrapped an arm around Rose's waist and started for the changing and shower room.
"Lou, I can walk you know," Rose pointed out, giving Louise a bit of a side-eyed look.
"Sure you can and then when you fall over and break your arse, that bloke of yours is going to have a fit about it and this girl wants to stay out of the un-fun kind of trouble," Louise explained, smirking slightly. "And then-"
"Speaking of," Rose interrupted her best friend's diatribe with mischievous grin. "I've got a bit of a project I could use your help with, if you have a bit of free time an afternoon this week."
Louise's eyes immediately lit up. "A project hm? Is it a project that involves mischief? Because if there is mischief involved, I am so there!"
"Potentially a great deal of mischief…" The two girls entered the changing rooms, heads together, whispering feverishly together.
"Every single part of my body hurts," Rose moaned. "Even parts I forgot that I had."
"I'll get you taken care of," John assured her as he carried her upstairs. He went past her flat and the main portion of 221B, carrying her up to his bedroom instead. "I'm going to set you down," he warned.
"On my stomach!" Rose called out. She didn't even want to try and sit just then. With a groan, she let John lay her on the bed and kicked off her heels. It was one of her favorite pairs, gray with red trimming and featuring an adorable Scottish terrier on them. They didn't match much but Rose hadn't cared, especially not when she'd found a red dress covered with little Scotties! There was nothing like dressing pretty after a good, hard work out and a cleansing shower. She stretched her arms and legs as far as she could, whining as she did so.
"You worked far too hard today, my love," John murmured. "First things first." He handed her some paracetamol and a bottle of water. "Take these while I get the arnica cream, they'll help with all the aches." He leaned over and kissed the back of her head before heading to the closet to retrieve his kit.
A moment later he returned to the bed and sat down beside her. "Alright madam, let's see to that bottom of yours."
Rose nodded eagerly adding a "Yes, please!" just in case he wasn't sure how much she wanted that bloody cream.
"So what is your style exactly?" John questioned as he started to lift her red, dog patterned dress.
"Vintage inspired, retro infused, a bit of 'gee, this will annoy the daylights out of Mycroft'," Rose replied. She was about to go on when she heard a sharp intake of breath behind her. "God, it must look worse than it did this morning," she murmured, trying to look over her shoulder. All he could see was John staring at her backside. "John?"
"You're…" the doctor cleared his throat. "You're wearing stockings and garters."
For whatever reason, Rose was certain that was supposed to explain something to her but for the life of her she couldn't figure it out. "I am yes… And also lacy blue knickers with a matching bra."
"Do you always wear garters and stockings?" If she said yes, John was really going to have to give himself a talking to about paying more attention to things because he had certainly not noticed that the few times he'd had her bare bum over his knee.
"Most of the time," Rose responded slowly as a frown crossed her face. "About ninety-six percent of the time. Why? Is that a good thing?"
John chuckled. "Love, you have no idea." The girlfriends he'd begged over the years to please wear stockings and garters because he found them so utterly sexy that had turned him down flat and here right in front of his nose was the one that did it voluntarily and he hadn't even noticed! "It's very sexy," he added, catching Rose's look of utter confusion. "Incredibly sexy in fact. Very feminine and beautiful."
Rose's face softened and she gave him a bit of a smile. "Oh; well, in that case, lucky for you I do it regularly. Though at this moment in time I'd really rather you admire my stocking covered legs later because I could really use some arnica cream now."
"Right," John agreed. "Your knickers are pretty, by the way." That earned him a giggle and John flashed Rose a grin before putting his thumbs in the waistband of her pants, slowly and carefully pulling them down. He winced at the sight of her bum, which was somehow still a rather impressive shade of red and sported an outline of a spoon head in a few places. He tugged her knickers down lower, revealing her equally red sit spots that showed a hint of bruising.
"That looks incredibly painful," John sympathized. "I think you and I are going to wait a bit before I take my turn, yeah?"
Her head nodded enthusiastically. "Yes please! Or we could skip it all together," Rose suggested hopefully. She reached for one of his pillows and put it under her head, having a feeling she might need to hold on to it when he rubbed in the healing cream.
John shook his head. "That was a great try love, but we're not skipping it. We'll wait until Friday though. For now, some arnica cream for you and I'll try my best to be gentle. I knew I should have come over with some last night." Attempting to be as gentle as possible he began to apply the arnica cream to her very well spanked little bum.
Rose made a whining sound as he began to put the cream on, finding even that slight amount of pressure to be nearly unbearable and, just as she'd thought, Rose held on tightly to the pillow. After a moment though she looked over her shoulder at him, arching an eyebrow at his comment about attending to her bottom the night before. "I hardly think Mycroft would have taken kindly to my request to have my handsome doctor-boyfriend come over and tend to my bum. I'm sure he knows it's happening now that I'm home, one way or another," Rose paused to glare at the spots in the room where a camera might likely be placed. "Besides, it's one thing to allow it to go on here, but it's a whole other thing to permit it to happen inside his house. Baby steps, John, baby steps."
With a sigh, John nodded his agreement. He wished it were different but the reality was Mycroft still didn't like him, he just wasn't going to actively get in his and Rose's way for her sake. That was a start at least. "It's a bit late but this should still help some with those spoon marks and the bit of bruising down here," John said, gently tapping her sit spot.
"Ow," Rose whined, pressing her face into the pillow for a second. "I'm going to have to plead with Greg to give me something to do that does not require sitting unless I am significantly healed come morning."
"That's doubtful, significant healing," John admitted. "But this will help, just probably not enough for a full shift of doing nothing but sitting on it. Poor little bum," he teased, trying to get a laugh out of her.
Rose snorted and shook her head. "You don't feel bad for me at all! You're going to do the exact same thing at the end of the week, so save your feigned pity John. Mean boyfriend, you are."
John leaned over and kissed her head again. "I know you don't mean that for a minute and, to be honest, I do feel bad that you're hurting. Even if it's well deserved, I don't like the thought of you hurting and my not being able to take it completely away. One of the problems with being a doctor dating a very naughty young lady."
"I'm worth the trouble though, hm?" Rose questioned, looking back at him again. She smiled when he nodded.
"Worth every bit of it Rose and I mean that," he promised in a serious tone. "No teasing, you really are. Now, your bottom is all taken care of, how about those other aches? Want me to get some of your smelly stuff and give you a bit of a massage? What hurts the most?"
Giggling, Rose shook her head. "Smelly stuff, huh? It's in my loo and I'm not moving, just so you know. And I can't even begin to prioritize what hurts more than anything else, I just hurt everywhere equally I think."
"Poor love," John replied, making a 'tsk' noise. "Don't worry about moving, I'll get it and be right back." He smiled when Rose leaned up enough so he could kiss her before departing the room, leaving her snuggling a pillow on the bed.
After retrieving the spare key from downstairs, John let himself into Rose's flat and headed straight to the loo. What should have been an easy retrieval mission, however, quickly turned complicated as John surveyed the number of bottles, jars and containers in the room. Some sat along the edge of the tub, a few on the back of the toilet and several on the vanity by the sink. "Good god, how much stuff does one girl need?" he muttered before beginning an all-out search.
"Lavender bubbles…" He put that one aside. "Lavender shower gel…" "Shaving cream… Nope, that's hair things right there," he decided, turning away from the items around the bathtub.
"Lavender body butter…" John frowned. "What the hell is body butter? And why's everything lavender?" Uncertain what the body butter might be, he put it aside and did the same with the vanilla scented version of it. John opened a plastic container and closed it right away as it contained nothing but make-up and nail polish. "Alright now this is getting ridiculous."
John turned to the items on Rose's vanity, noted the lavender bar of soap and shook his head, a smile crossing his face. "Acne cream… She never has acne!" He pushed aside a box of hair clips and a box of earrings. "I am running out of things here… And I've been talking to myself for the past few minutes. God help me, I'm turning into Sherlock!" Ignoring the two bottles of perfume, he opened the top drawer of the vanity and finally located a plethora of things actually labelled lotion.
"Finally," he murmured. John was unsurprised to find the vanilla and lavender scents in the mix yet again along with something called Pearberry and Cashmere Glow- Whatever those are, he mused. Given the plethora of various lavender scented items in throughout the room, John selected the nearest lotion that boasted lavender in it. "Seems to be a lot to learn about a girl from the things in her loo," he commented as he turned out the light. "And I'm talking to myself again. Bloody hell."
After locking up the flat behind him, John returned to 221B and went back up the stairs to his room. "Had I known there were so many bottles and what-not," he called out as he went. "I would have-" John's words abruptly cut off as he entered his room to find Rose fast asleep where he'd left her. Smiling softly, he put the lotion down on the dresser and went to his closet to locate a spare blanket to put over her. At the last second he grabbed one of his button-ups as well and draped it across the pillow Rose was using, just in case she woke up and wanted to change out of her clothes into something more comfortable for sleeping. With great tenderness, John then covered her with the blanket and tucked it snuggly around her before leaning down to softly kiss her cheek.
A quick look at his watch told him it was 8pm, really far too early for him to go to bed for the night. Still, he turned off the ceiling light and opted for the bedside lamp that was a softer light and less likely to wake her. Easing himself onto the bed, John set the alarm on his mobile for 730 the next morning and put it on the bedside table and grabbed the latest Alex Cross novel to keep himself occupied.
A few hours later, just as John was putting the novel back on the bedside table, he felt Rose begin to stir.
"Huh wuh?" she murmured sleepily, looking confused. "W're am I?"
"Hi darling girl," John responded, giving her a smile. "You fell asleep before I could give you that massage. How are you feeling?"
Rose returned his smile with one of her own. "Sleepy. I should go." She started to rise from the bed when John reached for her hand.
"Stay," he said softly. "I even put out a shirt for you to wear. Stay, please? I'm not asking for sex; just you," John added, in case she was concerned about that. Of course he was sexually attracted to her, but this was hardly the time for them to have their first coupling, especially not when Rose was so tired and overworked.
She smiled and leaned over to brush her lips against his. "I know," Rose assured him. "That's what I love about you; you're very sweet and a gentleman. I'd love to stay." She kissed him once more before getting up to change. "Are you going to turn off the light?" she asked.
"Do you want me to? I will if you want," John offered. "Whatever makes you comfortable love. I suppose I should change too." He got up from the bed to retrieve his own pajama bottoms and t-shirt. "You know, I've seen your bum before plenty of times. Not much else left is there?" he teased, trying to get a laugh from her. A bright grin spread across his face when he heard her giggle.
"I suppose not," Rose laughed. "Though this isn't a strip tease, you know." Turning her back to him, Rose unzipped her dress and let it fall to her feet. Stepping out of it she reached for the button-up he'd left out for her and put it on, buttoning the top button before unhooking her bra and removing it. The remaining buttons were then fastened, but the top one was undone so the collar hung more loosely around her neck.
"Comfy?" John asked. His eyes fell to the pile of clothes on the floor, narrowing a bit. "Going to leave your clothes just like that?"
Rose laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Your room is entirely too tidy. I might just leave them there so it looks more lived in and less orderly. What will you do about that?"
An eyebrow quirked and John gave her a firm look. "Pick that up, or there'll be consequences." He wasn't the least bit surprised when she shook her head no. "Then I'm going to have to punish you Rose." He shook his head before a devilish look came into his eyes. John pulled her towards him and wrapped a strong arm around her waist. His other hand tipped her chin up towards him and pressed his lips against hers, then gently covered her mouth with his, seemingly devouring her soft, sweet lips.
The kiss felt so intimate to Rose, yet gentle, but hungry and needy at the same time. No one had ever kissed her the way John did and every time it made her stomach swirl in a most delightful manner. Her arms went around his neck as she returned his kisses.
"Are you learning your lesson?" John asked, his voice a whisper against her lips.
"No," Rose murmured in reply. "I'm not certain this is a very effective punishment." She giggled just a bit as he shook his head.
"Oh good, I was hoping it wouldn't be," he murmured, capturing her lips once more. "Keep being incorrigible and I'll just have to keep trying, hoping it gets through to you one of these times."
They continued to stand there and kiss for another moment or so longer, until during one pause to catch their breath, Rose yawned widely.
John pressed his lips to her forehead. "Bedtime for us both, darling girl." Unable to help himself, John picked up her clothing from the floor and began folding it, placing the items neatly on top of the dresser. As he did so, he watched Rose climb into his bed on her side, scrunching the pillow up and moving it around until it was just where and how she wanted it.
When her clothes were all nice and neat, John joined her, sliding under the covers and holding his arm out, inviting her to nestle against him. He smiled when she did so, the thought striking him once again how perfectly they seemed to fit together whenever he held her, each curve or muscle matched by the other. John kissed the top of her head as a protective hand drew her closer to him. "Can I ask you something?"
"I don't know, can you?" Rose quipped, giving him a sleepy but impish grin.
"Oi! Don't be cheeky," John mock-scolded. "Very rude. Alright may I ask you something?"
Rose nodded, settling into his arms. "Yeah, anything you like."
"What's with all the bottles of things in your loo and why so much lavender?"
Rose burst out laughing, pressing her face against his chest as she did so. "Oh my god John! You were so serious and contemplative sounding and then you ask about my 'bottles of things'? You're ridiculous. I don't know, really. I just have a lot of products, some I use more regularly and others I don't. Some have been gifts, mostly from Louise. Anything lavender though is something I purchased, or if it's the bar of soap Mycroft's had that shipped in since I was little and the nearby shops stopped carrying it."
"Spoilt is what you are miss. Fancy soap flown in," John teased. He expected her to laugh or smile at least a little and was slightly alarmed when she didn't. "Why does he fly it in?"
"It's the same soap my mother used and the shops stopped carrying it shortly after she died. I needed it," Rose said quietly. "She always smelled like lavender, always used things with lavender in them and I just had to have that soap. It made her feel… closer in a way." She shrugged a bit. "It's hard to explain, but I was only ten. Ever since then I've always used that soap, except for when I was off and away of course, but even then I still bought things with lavender in them. It's really comforting and reminds me of her, of happy times."
John pulled her closer, resting his cheek on her head. "I'm sorry Rose. I didn't mean to tease about something so sentimental like that. I didn't know."
"Oh, I know that," Rose assured him. She squeezed the hand that was holding her close, interlacing their fingers. "It didn't bother me."
"I'm glad. Thank you for sharing that with me." John leaned down to kiss her. "You know, you and I are becoming rather domestic it seems. How do you feel about that?"
Rose smiled at him. "I love it. It feels right. If only life wasn't so crazy for us both! Dancing and cases and such. Why?"
"Well," John began. "I was thinking I might take you away. A holiday just for the two of us after this string of competitions of yours is done. How's that sound?"
"Sounds amazing! Do we plan together or are you going to surprise me?" Rose asked, before letting out a yawn.
"Not sure yet, I'll think on it. I also think we should go to sleep. We've both got an early day tomorrow, you back to work and me at surgery." John leaned over and turned off the lamp, bathing the room in darkness before kissing her one last time.
Twenty minutes before Rose was due to be up, her body woke her up instead. She murmured and stretched sleepily before opening her eyes. John was beside her, still asleep and a look at the clock beside the bed told her he could still sleep for a bit longer. She, on the other hand, wouldn't fall back asleep before the alarm was due to go off.
Easing herself out of bed, it was only when she remembered that she was in John's button-up that Rose realized she had a bit of a problem. Or perhaps a very large problem depending on one's definition. She was in her boyfriend's shirt, in his bedroom, in the same flat as Sherlock. And god only knew when he actually slept. How was she supposed to go downstairs like this? Even if she redressed her in clothes from the night before, there'd still be the issue of being up and dressed and descending the stairs from John's room to contend with.
Not much for it, Rose thought to herself. I'll just have to brave it. Tucking her clothing under her arm, Rose began tip-toeing down the stairs, straining her ears to try and pick up any sounds of Sherlock in the sitting room or kitchen. Sure enough, the closer to the landing she got Rose could hear him in the kitchen. Plates and mugs were being set out, undoubtedly for her and John's breakfast and, if they were lucky, Sherlock's as well. And, if she was very, very lucky indeed Rose could get away without him noticing her.
No one with Sherlock for a brother was that lucky.
Rose knew that he heard her and had undoubtedly heard her all the way down the stairs despite her efforts to be light on her feet. Choosing not to look in the direction of where Sherlock might be located, Rose continued to tip-toe ever closer to her own flat. Really, it was almost like a grown up version of pretend, in which they both pretended they could not see or hear her and that was quite fine with Rose! Naturally, Sherlock had to then spoil that wonderful bit of make-believe by not only acknowledging her presence but speaking to her as well!
"You can stop pretending. I know you're trying to escape and even more than that, I knew you never left last night," Sherlock announced, not even looking in her direction.
There was a long moment in which Rose wondered if he was going to begin yelling or add some other rule or do something in response to this. He was her brother, he was protective of her; really, it was only expected. When he said nothing, Rose cleared her throat and asked, "And?"
For the first time, Sherlock looked at her. "And… your coffee is ready. Do you want sausages with your scrambled eggs? Or toast with jam, though I can't guarantee John won't cause you bodily harm for getting into his jam."
This… was a moment. A huge moment, in fact. No objections, criticism, rules, awkward questions, or a request to put on more clothing. Instead, Sherlock was accepting, respecting, and acknowledging the fact that Rose was an adult, something she knew was not easy when it came to either of her brothers. And when it came to things like respect and boundaries, Sherlock was not very good at understanding the concepts or honoring them even if he did. All this flashed through Rose's mind, her heart swelling with love for her brother. She quickly crossed the room and threw her arms around Sherlock, hugging him tightly.
"This isn't answering my question about breakfast," Sherlock chuckled, happy to return the hug with one of his own. "You seem quite happy suddenly and I have no idea why."
"You do too," Rose challenged, standing on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. "Sausages. I'll brave getting into John's jam another day when my arse doesn't hurt."
Sherlock responded by simply saying, "Language!" with the same tone and expression Mycroft was so fond of when uttering that particular admonishment. He smiled when Rose merely giggled. "Get your coffee and I'll finish your breakfast. Looks like there is something on your plate already."
Turning her head in the direction of the table, Rose found a small wrapped package on her plate. She went to pick it up and, after examining it carefully for a moment, tore the wrappings away to discover a most unusual gift. It was a white t-shirt, one side of which was sprayed with what looked like a great deal of blood. Above the blood near the collar were the words 'I'm fine.'
"Oh my god," Rose murmured. "This is epic, this is a work out shirt. Oh my god!" The longer she looked at it the more she felt like giggling and within a matter of seconds was doubled over with laughter.
"A more appropriate shirt has never existed in this world, so don't say I've never bought you anything nice," Sherlock commented. The smirk was more than evident in his voice despite the fact he was facing the stove in order to finish her breakfast.
By the time John descended the stairs to join them for breakfast, both Holmes siblings were laughing hysterically over what had to be the most inappropriate shirt the world had ever seen. "Oi you two," he interrupted, giving them a frown as he pointed at the shirt. "That is not funny."
"Yes it is!" Rose rebutted, swiping at the tears her laughter was causing. "That is the epitome, nay the very embodiment, of sophisticated dark humor!"
"I need tea before I can handle you two all cheerful in the morning," John decided, scrunching up his face at that. Then, shaking his head, he went to retrieve the tea canister from the cupboard.
"That face! Oh my god, you looked just like a seriously angry hedgehog!" Rose announced, continuing to laugh.
"I looked like what?! Yeah, definitely need tea. An angry hedgehog indeed!"
Sherlock snorted before giving his friend a smirk. "She's right you know. That's why you're disgruntled about it."
"I do not look like an angry hedgehog," John grumbled.
He was still muttering about it when Rose came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his jawline. "I love you, you know. Even when you're an angry hedgie," she whispered. Rose ran her hand down his arm and back up, lightly squeezing his shoulder as John attempted to pour his tea.
Setting the kettle down a bit harder than necessary, John turned to face Rose and placed his hands on his hips. His eyebrows went up warningly while he pinned her with a hard look. Or rather, it would have been a hard look had John's eyes not been twinkling with amusement. "Woman; you muck about with my tea and I'll show you an angry hedgehog."
Rose nearly doubled over as she started laughing again, her sides aching from so many good belly laughs. Rather than double over and hold her sides, however, John dropped his feigned stern façade and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He looked deeply into her eyes, their faces so close to each other, and Rose felt her heart turn over in response to the yearning look that she saw there.
"I love you Rosenwyn Holmes," John whispered his breath hot against her ear.
Rose put her arms around his neck and leaned in closer and was about to kiss him soundly when an "Ahem!" behind her brought that action to a halt.
"I made food and it's getting cold," Sherlock announced, sounding a bit injured that his efforts were being ignored. He threw a significant pout in their direction.
"He doesn't cook often, we'd best get to it," John laughed, quickly stealing a kiss before letting her go.
Forty minutes later Rose was rushing out of 221B. "Bye!" she called out. "See you both later!" Hurrying down the stairs and out the front door, Rose realized how good it felt to be living again; really living. Having a place to go, things to do, an actual reason to be dressed as one could not leave their house in pajamas at twenty! Well, Rose certainly didn't leave the house in her pajamas at twenty but she supposed there were plenty of people that did, though heaven only knew why! Still, she was just as comfy in her own eclectic clothes- a white skirt covered in bicycles of various colors and a white, long sleeved jumper also sporting a bicycle- as if she were in her pajamas and it was wonderful to be dressed pretty, have her hair done, and be going somewhere she that she was needed. It was going to be a good day, Rose was sure of it, even if her bum was still sore. Nobody could wield a wooden spoon quite like Mycroft! Still, that hardly dampened her day as she set off down the pavement towards the underground.
After a moment of walking, lost in thought, Rose caught the sound of her name being called. Stopping, she turned around to see John and waited patiently for him to reach her.
"Oi! Rose! Wait up!" John called, jogging down the pavement to catch up with her. "I wanted to walk you to the tube," he said, coming up alongside her and offering Rose his arm.
"I know how to walk you know," Rose teased as John reached her and immediately offered her his arm. "Been doing it for years and years now."
"Oh I know," he assured her with a smile. "But can't I walk my lady towards her destination just because I want to? And might even be heading in the same direction?"
"Oh, heading in the same direction, are you? And where is that exactly?" Rose asked, raising her eyebrows. "Surgery? The Met?"
John coughed a bit. "Somewhere in that direction, yeah." When she gave him an expectant look John shrugged. "Give me a minute and I'll come up with somewhere I most definitely need to be that is along your way!" he finally laughed, a bit embarrassed by his inability to think on his feet just then. "Maybe I really do just want to walk you because I like to. That's within the realm of possibility, yeah?"
Rose acted as if that needed careful thought, tapping her chin in feigned contemplation. "Well, I suppose just this once I could allow my gallant knight to escort me." He shot her a look that made her sigh. "Oh alright, put away those sad puppy eyes! You're a terrible tease John Watson! You may walk me anywhere and everywhere forever if you wish."
A smile slowly spread across John's face as he moved his arm around her waist. "Can I hold you to that?" he asked.
Rather than answer verbally, Rose turned her head and kissed him briefly before they upped their pace towards the underground.
"We'll also need to prep our reports for the trial and find out who the crown prosecutor's want for their witness," Sally Donovan pointed out. She and Lestrade were having a small conference at her desk, she in her chair and Greg sitting on the edge of the desk as they reviewed what the Met needed to provide at an upcoming criminal trial. "They'll want Anderson too, and—Sir, are you listening?" Sally asked, watching as Greg's attention seemed to be pulled away from her.
"Mmhm," Greg responded, but it was clear he wasn't listening to her anymore. Sally turned in her chair to see what was distracting her boss, only to see Rose Holmes entering the department with two to-go cups from the nearby coffee shop. Sally let out a put-upon sigh but refrained from otherwise commenting as Greg stood up from her desk and approached his young employee.
"It's you! Thank god, I missed you so much," Greg greeted. He reached for the macchiato, holding it lovingly in his hands, before taking a drink of it, letting out a satisfied, "Mmm." His eyes fell on Rose and, despite the grin threatening to show itself, remained impassive. "Oh, hey kid," he greeted her as though it were an afterthought.
Putting one hand on her hip, an eyebrow was raised in amused contempt and Rose began tapping her foot. "That all?" she asked. "I'm gone for six weeks and bring you a macchiato and all I get is 'hey kid?'" Though she intended to keep up her act of being affronted by his reception, Rose just couldn't do it and her face broke out in a smile. As soon as she did so, Greg pulled her in for a one armed hug.
"Glad to have you back kid," he said sincerely. "It's been miserable around here without you. None of these lot ever bring me macchiatos and the withdrawals have been hellish at best. Isn't that right Sally?" He turned to grin at his sergeant.
"If you say so Boss," Sally replied after rolling her eyes at him.
Ignoring Sally's annoyance, Greg gently began steering Rose in the direction of his office. "Let's talk about what I need you to do today, hm? There's quite a lot of it, but I'm sure you're up to the task." Once they were inside his office, Greg shut the door behind him and motioned to the chair. "Take a seat Rose."
His suddenly serious tone garnered Rose's rapt attention, as did the fact that Greg went to sit behind his desk with a grim look on his face. "I've only been here two minutes, what did I do to merit that face?" Rose asked, carefully taking a seat.
"Oh, nothing yet," Greg hurried to assure her. "And thanks for this. I'll be glad to have this tradition back." He smiled again before it faded a little. "Listen… I just want to make a few things clear to you before I toss you back to work. From now on, if you're injured, I don't want to you to come in without a doctor's okay. John's or whomever else you might see. That stunt you pulled, coming in here with broken ribs…" His voice trailed off and Greg shook his head.
"If you ever pull something like that again, Rose Holmes, you and I are going to have words and you're not going to like 'em," Greg promised, his face turning dark with displeasure. "You could have died in my arms on the floor of the homicide division because you came in rather than get medical attention. This job is not worth your life and I don't want to be the one to tell your brothers that you died. I tell enough people that their loved ones have died. Do you understand?"
"I do," Rose said softly, her face rather pale and pinched with worry. Greg had never been angry with her before; at least not since the crime scene had been destroyed after she first returned. This was hardly the first day back she'd envisioned! "I'm really sorry about that," she added. "It was very stupid of me and I've learned that, I promise. It won't ever happen again."
"Good," Greg said with a nod. "Because it'd be a shame to lose you to foolishness." Getting up from his desk, Greg came around to put his arm around Rose and squeeze her shoulders once again. "That's all the scolding you're getting from me, because I'm certain you've had plenty from the rest of 'em. Now, you would not believe the amount of filing I need done straight away. You up for the challenge?"
The color began returning to Rose's cheeks and she gave Greg a cheeky smile. "Hmm. I'm really beginning to think you do just keep me around for macchiato runs and boring work after all."
"Right you are," Greg said with a laugh. "Now hop to it." He gave her a wink and waved his hand in the direction of a pile of boxes that needed her attention.
Smiling much more brightly now, Rose returned his wink with one of her own and, after a hearty drink of her coffee, opened the first of six boxes and dug right in.
"You realize your brother is going to horribly murder you, don't you?" Louise asked as she watched her friend enter the alarm code for Mycroft's townhouse.
"Possibly, or he might be very happy. He's lonely Louise!" Rose responded, opening the door and leading the way inside. The two entered with their arms full of various items, including a small crate.
"Yeah, did he actually say that or are you just thinking it? Because if you're just thinking it and he's not lonely at all, he's going to be really unhappy to find himself gifted with a cat," the redhead pointed out. "And I've only got one best friend so I'd really hate to lose you. Damned inconvenient for me." The two girls shared a grin before bursting into giggles.
Ever since Rose had stayed the night with Mycroft, she'd been concerned that he was feeling lonely. He did live in a rather large and very empty house and while he may have only hinted that he missed her, rather than outright stating he was lonely, Rose had read between the lines. The thought of him alone without company night after night was rather depressing, particularly if Mycroft actually was lonely in the quiet townhouse. With thoughts of easing his loneliness in mind, Rose and Louise had been visiting animal shelters in London for the past few days, looking for just the right friend for Mycroft. A little ginger colored kitten had stolen Rose's heart and all the adoption paperwork and payments had been completed in short order, allowing her to bring the kitten to its new home that Thursday.
"Come on, we need to get everything set up before Mycroft comes home. Anthea said they were getting ready to leave for the day when I texted her," Rose explained as she put the crate down near the door. "You set up the food and water bowls somewhere in the kitchen and I'll take care of the litter boxes."
Within several minutes the house was fully equipped with food, litter boxes and a variety of cat toys, including a tall scratching post with little cubbies for the kitten to go in and out of. With everything in place, Rose and Louise hugged and the redhead departed, leaving Rose to spring the surprise on her brother.
"Well, you're all ready," Rose murmured to the kitten, reaching a finger into the crate stroke its soft head. "We just have to wait for My to come home and find you!"
Twelve minutes later, Mycroft Holmes entered his home and found a suspicious item waiting just inside the entry way. It was an animal crate, of that much he was certain, and as he approached it, Mycroft saw a small kitten inside that immediately began meowing at him. Utterly confused at what this creature was doing here, a note on top of the crate caught his attention. It read:
My name is Ginger Rogers and I'm a four month old kitten who wants to be your friend so you're not lonely anymore.
Even if he hadn't recognized Rose's handwriting, she was certainly the only person he knew that would sign a note with a heart and, even more tellingly, name a ginger colored cat Ginger Rogers. With a sigh, he stood up and looked around for signs of his sister, but did not immediately see her. "Rosenwyn, I know you're still here, come out from wherever you're hiding and explain what the devil this is all about!" Mycroft began tapping his foot as he waited for Rose to show herself.
After a moment or so passed, Rose exited the kitchen and approached him, her face turning rather red as she did so. "Hi."
"'Hi' is not an explanation, young lady. What is this?" Mycroft pointed a finger at the crate.
Unable to help herself, Rose quipped, "A cat, obviously. Are you quite well My?"
"Are you trying to earn a spanking right now?" Mycroft asked bluntly. "Because that is the road you're walking down presently and I would suggest you stop being cheeky and explain yourself or we can adjourn to my study. What. Is. This?"
Rose blanched and shook her head. She was definitely not trying to get herself another spanking, especially when John was due to spank her tomorrow evening. "No, no, I'm not looking for a spanking. You seem lonely," she blurted out. "And it makes me feel bad to think that you're lonely here without Sherlock and me in this big old house. I thought I might find you a little friend so you'd have a bit of companionship. So, this is a cat and her name is Ginger Rogers. She had another name but it was stupid so I renamed her and it suits her."
Mycroft closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Lonely indeed! Leave it to Rose to do something so incredibly ridiculous for the very sweetest of reasons. That did not, however, change the fact that this was not at all acceptable. He did not need a companion of either the human or the animal variety! "Take it back," he ordered sternly. "Today."
"Mycroft!" Rose replied with a slight whine to her tone. "She was a kitten in need of a home and you're a man who has a very large home with no one but you in it! It makes perfect sense and I will not under any circumstances take her away. Besides, she's a cat, not a jumper, you can't just return her! Come on, even if you aren't lonely, you're doing a very great thing for an animal in need and making your dearest and most darling only sister incredibly happy."
Crossing to the crate, Rose opened it up and lifted the kitten out, showing Mycroft her sweet face before putting it on the floor. "Look at that little face and tell me you don't want to give her a home and make friends with her."
"I said take it back and I meant now Rosenwyn!" Just as he ordered her yet again, the little ginger kitten came to rub her fur against his legs before curling up on his feet.
"See? She loves you already and you're honestly one of the most unlovable people in the world," Rose pointed out, ignoring her brother's indignant snort. "She'll love you so very much if you let her and she'll be great company for you. Plus, she's not a dog so you don't have to take her outside or walk her and The Mayhew gave me her vet records and she's completely up to date on everything. Come on My! We're begging here, really and truly begging! Love her just a little, please?"
As Mycroft opened his mouth to tell Rose precisely what he thought of her well-meaning but inappropriate gift, the kitten lying on his shoes began to purr. He looked down at the small, ginger colored creature and let out a sigh. "I am not under any circumstances whatsoever calling her Ginger Rogers."
"I'll be mother," Mycroft offered, reaching for the tea pot. It was Friday and he was having his weekly tea time chat with Her Majesty in which he caught her up on the goings on, heard her thoughts and advice on matters, and then quite regrettably was forced to engage in conversation about personal matters.
"Thank you Mycroft. Chocolate chip biscuit?" the Queen offered. Knowing his love of sweets, though she was not entirely certain how he managed to keep it from affecting his figure, she put two on his plate while he poured the tea.
"Here you are, your Majesty," Mycroft said, putting her cup on its saucer. "Two lumps as usual."
"Thank you," she said with a smile. Her look, however, quickly changed to a frown as she noticed something quite odd. "Mycroft, is that a cat hair on your sleeve?"
Swearing under his breath, Mycroft brushed the ginger colored hair away from his suitcoat. "Unfortunately yes," he told her with a sigh.
The Queen waited a moment for him to continue on, as surely there must be a story attached to that put-upon sigh and the glare he'd given that little bit of cat hair. "Mycroft, are you not going to tell me the story? I know there's a story and glaring at me will not get you out of telling it to me." She picked up her tea and drank a bit of it while giving him an expectant look.
"My sister," Mycroft began, sounding a little annoyed. "Has decided that I am very lonely and in need of company so she adopted a cat and presented it to me yesterday. I could not convince her to simply return it."
"Oh, how lovely!" the Queen declared, smiling at him. "Such a thoughtful gift and if one cannot have a Corgi then a cat is a lovely companion. What is its name? Is it a boy or a girl?"
Mycroft drank some of his tea before responding. "It is apparently a girl and I have named it Cat."
The Queen frowned for several seconds. "You named your cat, Cat? You cannot name it Cat, Mycroft Holmes!"
"Well I certainly wasn't calling it Ginger Rogers either, no matter how much Rose insisted that I do so!" Mycroft replied, rolling his eyes at Rose's antics. "Cat is by far a much more dignified name. It will learn to respond to it in time."
This time it was the Queen's turn to sigh. "Mycroft, Cat is not a name. It is a species identifier, but not a name. Neither is your female cat an 'it' so do stop calling her that. That's rather disingenuous you know."
Mycroft's mouth dropped open as the Queen scolded him about what he had named the bloody cat he didn't even want in the first place! "Then what is your suggestion, if I might ask?"
"Show me what she looks like. Have you got a picture of her on your phone?" the Queen asked. She let out a little sound of delight when Mycroft managed to pull up a photo. She smiled, seeing quite clearly it was a sneakily taken photograph of Rose cuddling the kitten that Mycroft had taken the night before. The kitten really was just a darling! Very pretty and sweet looking with a darling little face. "She looks like a Lilibet," the Queen decided with a firm nod. "That shall be her name."
For a moment Mycroft could only stare at the queen and internally wonder at her thought process. Lilibet was her childhood name as she could not properly pronounce Elizabeth when she was quite young, or so the story went. And yet that that was the name she had chosen for his cat? It was utterly flabbergasting and he hardly knew what to say. After a long silence stretched between them, Mycroft relented and accepted her decision with a rather petulant sounding "Fine." Now there will definitely be no getting rid of the damn thing, he thought.
Taking his mobile back from the queen, he attached the image to a message and added text before sending it on to Rose.
'Apparently the cat is named Lilibet, by order of the Queen. M'
Across London, Rose was busily working at her desk at the Met when her mobile chirped. After digging around in her purse for a second, she located the mobile and opened the message. Then, to the bewilderment of everyone around her, Rose burst into uncontrollable giggles as she imagined the conversation prompting that text!
In the desk next to her, Sally Donovan stared at Rose as though she had lost her mind before shaking her head, completely convinced she would never understand any of the Holmeses, not even the purportedly 'normal' one.