"Where," Sherlock drawled, "do you even think you're going?"
Scarlett sat on the edge of the hospital bed and looked around the ward before pointing her thumb and indicating to the door.
"Home," she responded.
"And you really think that I'm just going to let you walk out of here?" Sherlock asked her, shrugging himself back into his coat before he picked Scarlett's blue military coat up and began to help her into it carefully, making sure she didn't move from the bed as he did so. He gently pulled her long blonde hair from the collar as Scarlett's face dropped. She looked over at the door and then back to Sherlock as she pouted stubbornly.
"I can walk," she huffed and Sherlock simply just shook his head.
"I am perfectly aware you can walk," he informed her, "as you have told me that many times. However, you shall not be walking out of here when the doctor has told you that you're in need of rest. And walking, Scarlett Rose Jenson, does not classify into the category of rest."
"But-" she began to protest but stopped when she saw Sherlock raise his hand and wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her to stand up before he set her down into the wheelchair which John was pushing.
"Don't worry," John told her, "I won't let him take you on a mad run through the hospital."
"Take these for me John," Sherlock instructed his friend, handing him Scarlett's blue small case which contained all her belongings from her stay in hospital whilst Sherlock nudged John out the way, pushing Scarlett from the ward.
...
"Would you slow down?" Sherlock asked Scarlett, his arm snaking around her waist, holding her close to him as he helped her from the black cab and onto the paved slabs of Baker Street. Scarlett looked around and then up to the windows of the living room before noticing Mrs Hudson stood on the step, her arms folded over her body in the cold winter air.
"I'm fine," Scarlett huffed and Sherlock simply just pursed his lips and shook his head as he helped her walk towards the building.
"Scarlett dear," Mrs Hudson greeted her. "It's so good to see you."
"And you too Mrs Hudson," Scarlett agreed, clutching onto her side slightly in pain, her face screwing up. And in that second Sherlock took it upon himself to act.
"You're in pain," he stated and bent over, his arms going under her jean clad knees as he picked her up from the floor and held her in his arms. Mrs Hudson smiled sweetly at the sight whilst John finished paying the cab driver and began wheeling Scarlett's small case into the building.
"I'm going to have to walk sooner or later," Scarlett told Sherlock as he carried her up the stairs.
"I think it shall be later in that case," he said. "And besides, I need you to heal properly so you can get back to cleaning our flat and cooking the tea."
"Is that all I'm here for?" Scarlett raised a brow at Sherlock and he set her onto the sofa, murmuring into her ear as he did so;
"You're also easy on the eye."
"God," Scarlett rolled her eyes. "You know how to woo."
"Wooing is just another form of manipulation," he told her, taking her how she was looking around the room, her eyes vacant and emotionless as she looked over to the fireplace.
"I...um...well..." Sherlock coughed. "I had the rug changed..."
"Oh." Scarlett whispered. "That's good then...all good...fine..."
"Is this going to be uncomfortable for you?" Sherlock asked her. "Being back here?"
"I'll manage," she forced a smile onto her lips and Sherlock nodded;
"I'll make you a drink then."
...
"Sherlock!" Scarlett called his name from their bedroom. She sat on the bed, sat up straight, leaning against the pillows at half past ten at night. She gasped in pain slightly as she pulled the cushioned bandage from her wound and leant her head back, taking in deep breaths.
"Yes?" Sherlock wondered, poking his head around the door, seeing how her baggy vest top was pulled just above her stomach. But he noted the wound on her flesh more than anything else.
"Can you get me another bandage from my bag?" she asked him and he nodded;
"Of course," he replied and began rooting around until he found the box and pulled one out. Cautiously; he sat on the edge of the bed and removed it from the packaging.
"Would you prefer for me to place it on?" he asked her and she shrugged, still in slight pain, waiting for the aspirin to kick in. Sherlock took it upon himself to allow his hand to graze her cold skin as he quickly but firmly placed the bandage over the wound.
"Uh," Scarlett complained as he did it.
"Okay?" he asked her and she nodded, pulling her vest top back down over her skin.
"Why don't you try and get some sleep?" Sherlock asked her. "You look ghastly."
"Thanks very much," Scarlett replied and Sherlock chuckled.
"I did tell you," he replied, "that I was brash."
"I suppose I love you regardless of it," Scarlett replied and then her eyes went wide as she realised what she had just said. She slowly drew a hand over her mouth whilst Sherlock went wide eyed and stood up, coughing loudly as he did so, unable to look her in the eyes, not knowing how to react.
"I'll fetch you another drink then," he commented when he looked down into her empty cup on the bedside table, trying to distract her from what she had just told him.
"I...I...Sherlock...it...just...well..." Scarlett babbled as Sherlock removed his blazer in the sudden heat of the room and threw it onto the end of the bed.
"And I'll bring you that dreadful magazine you were reading," he said, quickly walking out the room, leaving a huffing Scarlett.
"Crap." She simply said.
...
Was it too early for her to say it? Then again, they have been together for a while I imagine and she didn't really mean for it to slip out...anyway...enough of my idiotic blabbering! Thank you so, so much to all my reviewers of this story and please let me know what you think of it! I have some ideas popping into my head and so I shall try and update as much as possible! Thank youuu!