I sat there stunned. Sherlock Holmes, had just invited me to sleep in his private quarters. Sherlock, bloody private, Holmes was offering me the use of his bedroom. I was just stunned into silence and sat there looking up at him, my mouth agape. Finally I was able to find my voice again.
"I haven't any sleeping clothes." That was my argument. He raised an eyebrow at that.
"You can wear one of my shirts. It should be big enough." It was John's turn to raise an eyebrow. Maybe Sherlock had no idea how intimate that was, but he just looked at the both of us. Finally I conceded to this arrangement.
"All right." I agreed, reluctantly. Sherlock gave me a tight-lipped smile and proceeded to lead me into his bedroom.
"Here." He handed me one of his t-shirts, which I supposed he had for just this purpose. It was almost a grey color or else an extremely well-worn beige shirt. I proposed an off grey, for Sherlock was meticulous. He always bought new clothes after two to three months.
"Thanks." I said, taking it from him.
"The showers just down the hall on your right." Sherlock gave me a smile.
"If you don't mind, I'll just wash up, then get my shower tomorrow. I'm a little unsteady on my feet still." He nodded, then set Lily down on the bed, before moving the blankets to surround her in a cocoon.
"Sleep well." Sherlock said before leaving me at the bathroom door. I washed my face, hands, and somewhat my teeth, before putting the t-shirt on. It fell to my mid-thighs, and was quite baggy on me. Then I exited the bathroom and went into the bedroom, leaving the door open just a crack. I fell into bed beside Lily and fell asleep.
I awoke with a start and looked at the nightstand. It read 1:47 A.M. which meant that I had only slept for about an hour and a half. I couldn't get to sleep, so I got up from the bed, careful not to wake up Lily, and padded into the hallway. I walked into the kitchen to see Sherlock sitting in his armchair, looking over some files.
"Can't sleep?" He asked me, not glancing up.
"No, I can't." I said, shivering from the cold draft that seemed to billow through the apartment building.
"Take this," He handed me one of his maroon dressing gowns.
"Thanks," I tied it tightly around my waist, although it dragged onto the ground, due to our height differences. I grabbed a glass and filled it with some water before walking into the living room and taking John's usual seat. I took a sip and stuck it onto the table.
"Bad dreams?" Sherlock finally looked up at me. I nodded. "About Moriarty?"
"Yeah." I sighed, curling my legs underneath my frame and wrapping the gown firmly around my feet.
"That's understandable." Sherlock murmured. He took a sip of the brandy he had in a glass beside him.
"What are you working on?" I asked him, interested in what was captivating his interest so much. He quickly set the file aside and looked at me.
"Nothing really of importance." I nodded slowly, not sure that I ought to believe him. "You should return to bed. You are freezing out here." He ran an eye over my huddled frame.
"I can't." I said. I started to rub my arms. "When I close my eyes, I just feel as if I'm back. Back in that car. Helpless, you know?"
"Yes. I do know." Sherlock said, slowly. He got up from his seat to move in front of the window, his back to me. "I was scared today, Aria."
"Why?" I asked. "I knew you would figure it out and get me out of there."
"You have more faith in me, than I deserve Aria." Sherlock admitted, turning to fix me with his stare.
"You deserve it Sherlock." I told him quietly, drawing designs on the arm of the chair.
"Aria, I nearly didn't solve it, because I didn't want to get it wrong." He told me. "I didn't want you to blow up in that car, without having a talk with you first." He knelt in front of me.
"I knew you wouldn't let that happen, Sherlock." I stared into his beautiful grey-blue eyes that were like ice to anyone else but Lily, Mrs. Hudson, John, and I.
"How did you know?" A rare smile twitched his lips upwards.
"Because I know you. And I know it is not a part of your MO to just let your friends die at the hands of another." Sherlock was leaning closer to me.
"You are wrong about one thing." My mind was getting foggy with his proximity.
"What is that?" I breathed, very aware of how close his lips were to mind.
"That I see you as a friend." In a flash he was back on his feet. "I see you as much more."
"So what are we going to do?" I asked, interested and waiting to see if he would wish to pursue a relationship with me.
"I would very much like to take you to dinner." Sherlock was clearly uncomfortable stating that, so I began to laugh. "Isn't that what people do when they go out on a date?"
"Oh Sherlock." I giggled grasping the arm of his chair. "That's what normal people do. Of course we aren't normal."
Sherlock was clearly still bewildered. He didn't seem to grasp that with a date the two individuals did something that they both enjoyed. And I doubted taking dinner out and then going to see a movie was something Sherlock was very interested in.
I explained the concept of dating to him. Finally he caught on. Then he turned to me quickly and pressed a kiss to my lips.
"Well then, how about we take dinner in St. Barts?" He suggested. "You can see what I do as well as going on a date." I agreed. Seemed like a great compromise. At least I knew Sherlock wouldn't get bored and shoot a patron or something like that.
I yawned just as we finished our plans. It had been decided that the date would take place after Sherlock solved who was taking people hostage just for fun, which had included me. I agreed wholeheartedly to his plan.
"You need some sleep." Sherlock commented.
"I'm not," yawn, "sleepy yet." I told him. He just smirked at me.
"Clearly." Then he picked up his violin and began to play just for me. It was a hauntingly beautiful melody, but after five minutes I felt my eyelids drift close. I opened them several time until I finally, fell into a deep sleep.