Sherlock finally began to stir and Lydia peered up at him. His eyelids fluttered and he opened them. After a few seconds of restoring his vision, he gazed down at Lydia as she watched him, almost shyly. He smirked. "Good morning." He muttered groggily. Lydia returned it. She leaned up and buried her face in his neck, extracting a small moan of content from the tall man. He pulled her belt loops closer and her legs slipped so that she was straddling. Lydia looked down for a moment, searching for his weak spot on his collar bone. She unbuttoned the top two buttons and searched. Right… there. She brushed her lips over it and he shivered. What a delightful feeling. I know! Let's do it again… And she did. He groaned and arched his back. "I hate you…" He mumbled.
"Love you too." Lydia replied, just as breathlessly. There, I had actually said it. Now, if he says I should have told him, I can counter saying I did. Lydia – 1 Sherlock – 0. "My turn." Sherlock flipped her over and he was now lying between her legs, his hands coasting down her body slowly. Much too slowly for her liking. She bucked and writhed. "Bloody hell Sherlock, are you going to or not?" She moaned. He chuckled into the hollow of her neck.
"Not just yet. Soon… but not yet." And with that, he rolled off her and left the room, giving a quick wink before doing so.
"He'll be the death of me, I swear." She whispered before rolling off the bed noisily. Damn. Lydia – 1 Sherlock – 1.

"Morning Lydia." John said with a smile over his newspaper. She returned both the greeting and the smile. She walked into the kitchen and switched the kettle on. "Sherlock, John, want a hot drink?"
"No thanks, Lydia. I've got one." John replied. Sherlock walked into the kitchen and switched on the light.
"I'll have coffee." He said simply, going to get the milk for the drinks. Lydia nodded and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard above her. Setting them down, she turned to Sherlock who had just handed her the milk. "Same as usual?" He smirked.
"Of course. Never had the sweet tooth. I presume you still do?"
"Of course. Always have, always will." She winked and added the coffee and sugar. The kettle stopped boiling and she poured in the scalding water. Stirring it with a teaspoon, she added milk at the same time. "Put that away, will you?" She asked Sherlock politely. He put it back in the fridge and leaned against the counter. Lydia slid his coffee over to him and he took it with a smile as a thank you. "Bottoms up." The female brunette said, winking at him over her own coffee.
"Oh you want to play that again, hm? Sure you won't burn your tongue again?"
"Positive. Game on, Mr Holmes." They watched each other for 2 more seconds and then quickly gulped their coffee down. They both slammed their coffee mugs down on the counter at the same time and wiped their mouths. "You've gotten much better." Sherlock said lowly. Lydia smirked.
"Japan does that to you."
"I don't see how."
"Me neither but oh well. Let us return to the living room." They both walked back into the living room and went to sit down on the sofa. Lydia was about to sit when Sherlock beat her to it and lay across the sofa. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "This is not amusing, Mr Holmes." He smirked.
"Really? I think it is." John rolled his eyes.
"Is this all you two do every day? Flirt?" He asked incredously. Lydia looked over nodded.
"Yup. Every day until 5 years, 9 months and 13 days ago. Then we did it over texting and Skype." She said simply and the turned back to Sherlock, "Move your arse."
"You want me to move my arse? Where to? Yours?" Oh, I wish.
"Anywhere but that sofa."
"Can't do that. Sorry. You'll have to sit somewhere else."
"Or I could just… do this." And she sat on him. Not on his stomach, mind, it was his chest. He didn't actually seem to mind.
"That doesn't frighten me. Not at all."
"Hmph, well I'll just have seduce you again, won't I?"
"It would appear you do." John shook his head again. This is unbelievable. Why don't they just have sex and get together already? The world would be a happier place knowing that she isn't single anymore. "Right, I'm off. Call him Hamish." They looked at him as if he'd gone mad, "John Hamish Watson. Just giving ideas for your baby." ((I love this line in… whatever that episode is called again XD)) And with that, he walked out rolling his eyes. Silence ensued.
"What was that about seducing me?"

"Okay, now we're late thanks to you." Lydia whined whilst sitting in the cab. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her behaviour.
"Thanks to me? I do believe it was your fault."
"How was it my fault? You were pretty much asking for it."
"I said we should stop but no. No, no, no, you had to go and pull a stunt like that."
"Shut up. Removing my top is hardly a stunt."
"And then you straddled me and tried ripping my own shirt off."
"I was trying to seduce you."
"You had no trouble then."
"Good good."
"You still refuse to kiss me." So, he wants me to kiss him? I may be in love with him but I still love torturing him.
"And you refuse to have sex with me. I think we're about square."
"After that, I won't be refusing much longer." Cocky sod.
"Good to know." Lydia looked up to see the cab driver watching us with a creepy look. He seemed freaked out, curious and… even more freaked out. She smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Sorry you had to witness that, Sir. Just a lovers' spat."
"Hardly."
"Shut up."

The door opened and Lestrade stood there with his hair glinting metallically in the sun. He seemed to have gotten older since Lydia had last seen him. "Hello Lestrade." She greeted with a smile. He nodded at her.
"Lydia. Glad that you've come. The widow won't stop bawling her eyes out." She nodded and stepped in, Sherlock close behind her.
"Where is she?"
"On the stairs." Lydia walked through a doorway and found the stairs with a depressed woman sitting on them. She smiled sympathetically at her and crouched in front of her. "Hello, there. I've been called to solve your husband's death and to help you get through this. What's your name?" The woman didn't look up as she answered.
"Elaine." Lydia nodded and sat beside her on the stair.
"Now, Elaine. I want you to tell me everything that's happened." She finally glanced up at the woman beside her. Elaine gasped and backed away from her. Lydia frowned, surprised at how quickly this had gotten out of hand. "Elaine, what's wrong?" She asked worriedly. Elaine pointed a shaking finger at her. "Y-y-you… You're the o-one…" She whispered shakily, breathing out shuddering breaths.
"I'm sorry? What are you talking about, Elaine?"
"I… I have to show you the room."

"In here…" She mumbled and then ran off as quickly as her small legs could carry her. Lydia looked up at Sherlock and shrugged. She then pushed open the door. A small podium was at the back of the medium sized room with a single light shining on it. Lydia scrabbled about the wall with her hand for a light switch. She found one and turned it on. Only one light turned on, in the centre, and it wasn't very bright. It was bright enough, however, to see what the room contained. The room was filled with flowers, photographs, letters, gifts and lots of other things. Everything gave an affectionate air and it made Lydia's heart squeeze when she glanced at Sherlock. He picked up a single, wilting rose and brought it up to the light. He then turned towards her and handed it to her. She cocked an eyebrow. "Evidence or a lovely affectionate present?" He chuckled and said it was the latter. She smiled and took it, making sure not to cut her thumb on the thorns. "Thank you, Mr Holmes." She kissed him on the cheek and let her lips linger there. A throat being cleared abruptly snapped from their trance. Lestrade stood there with an eyebrow raised at the pair. "When you're quite done, we have a case to solve." He said disapprovingly, but almost fatherly, as though catching his son/daughter in the act of something. They nodded and smirked inwardly to themselves, positive that the other was doing the same. Lydia made her way over to the podium. "So, who's this about? This looks to be a shrine of some sort. Who for?" Lestrade asked. Smash. Both the men's heads whipped to Lydia, who was standing frozen at the main podium. "Lydia?" Sherlock asked deeply, concern tinging his voice. She turned slowly, a photograph in her hand with a flower and hearts frame around it. "Lydia… Who is it?" Sherlock asked, beginning to walk over. She gulped and looked up into his eyes. "Me."

Oh, I know this is a short chapter but that was a cliffhanger I just couldn't refuse. So, what do you think will happen? Liking the citrus stuff? I'm finding it quite fun to write actually ;D Anywho, why is NO ONE asking for my stories? I don't need them all! There's a list of them all on my profile and no one has sent me a message! :O Are they really crap? You can change them! I can't stand having so many stories on hiatus and no idea how to continue them! I'm literally begging! PLEASE! Anywho, begging and grovelling aside, hope you enjoyed that. This is fun :D Cheers folks.
Luna