It was nearly midnight by the time the trio returned to Baker Street. Rose trudged up the stairs to the flat, feeling resigned to whatever was going to happen. Sherlock wouldn't hurt her, ever, but he could certainly make her life miserable; especially when it came to her ability to sit!
"Go shower and get ready for bed," Sherlock instructed her. "You have thirty minutes and then we need to have our discussion."
"Hate that phrase," Rose grumbled in response.
"Now is not the time to complain," Sherlock told her, giving her bottom a smack. "Go." He watched her go into the bathroom and then sat on the couch with a heavy sigh. "The very day I tell Mycroft 'well she'll be living next door, I'll take care of everything' this happens," he grumbled.
John chuckled. "No one plans in advance for what happened tonight. That was honestly one of the most bizarre evenings I think I've had since being discharged. Who knew you'd make my life so interesting?"
"You thought I would bore you?" Sherlock asked.
"No, no. You know what I mean, don't purposely be obtuse," John responded. "If you don't need me down here for anything, I think I'll head up and get some sleep."
Sherlock waved him off and leaned back against the couch as he tried to decide what to do with his sister. By the time she'd emerged from the shower and told him she was ready for bed, he had a plan in mind. "I'll be right in," he assured her. Before heading into his room to deal with her, Sherlock went into the kitchen first, looked through a few drawers and finally located a wooden spoon. This called for more than his hand and John had already gone to bed, so the hairbrush was out.
Rose was sitting on the bed when Sherlock entered the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as she caught sight of the spoon, she let out a groan and flopped back on the bed.
"No," Sherlock said firmly. "None of that. You know you deserve this, no groans or complaints because I'm not interested."
She sat up and let out a sigh, half expecting him to tell her she couldn't sigh either. Thankfully, he didn't.
"We're going to have an actual talk before our discussion," Sherlock announced, taking a seat on the bed. "I'd like you to explain why you're being spanked." He wanted to make certain she knew precisely why before disciplining her.
"I made a very epic mess at the crime scene and made everyone's work a lot harder to catch the killer of that poor man whose blood was everywhere," Rose said, shuddering as she remembered all the blood.
"Yes, that's true," Sherlock agreed. "I am aware that destroying the crime scene wasn't done intentionally. I am much more concerned about the poor choices you made that enabled that fiasco to occur. What could you have done to avoid this?"
Rose looked thoughtful as she mulled over the night's events. "Other than just not leaving the flat I don't know," she admitted softly. "I'm not trying to be difficult, but I don't know what you're looking for."
"That's acceptable," he assured her. "You could have asked Sally to bring the package in. You could have text or called John or myself. You also had the option of approaching the uniformed officers in the street and asking one of them to bring it in. Those are the answers I wanted from you. Had you done any of those things, the crime scene would have remained intact. Unfortunately, you made no effort to stop and think of alternatives available to you, decided to brawl with Sally, and ultimately wreaked havoc."
She blushed brightly, having not thought about those alternatives at all. This night would have ended so much better had she done so. "You know I'm sorry though, right?" Rose asked softly. "I really do feel badly about how things ended up, and not just because I'm in trouble now."
Sherlock nodded. "I do. However, due to the ramifications of your lack of forethought this evening, you're in a significant amount of trouble. First, you'll be getting a spanking with my hand and then spend a bit of time reflecting in that corner." He paused, pointing to an empty corner in the room. "Then I will use this to finish up." This time he indicated the spoon.
"You are also officially grounded to this flat for one week, with the exception of your volunteer hours for Lestrade and any preparations for moving that need to be done with Mycroft. You will go in to volunteer and come immediately home. It should go without saying that I expect you to exhibit exemplary behavior," Sherlock added. "If you need to begin packing your things, you will alert either myself or John and there will be no dallying anywhere else."
Rose bit her lip to keep from groaning again. Instead, she silently hoped he was finished. Of course, he wasn't.
"You will be spanked before bed while you are grounded, to encourage you to think things through. Your behavior during the day will influence how enthusiastic the spanking is," Sherlock warned. "Is any of this unclear to you, Rosenwyn?"
"No, it's not unclear," Rose admitted. "But isn't it a bit of overkill? Can we negotiate?"
Sherlock shook his head. "Need I remind you that you were arrested tonight, in addition to destroying the crime scene? And nearly faced charges for all the damage you caused? It is not "overkill." Anything else you'd like to say?"
"No, that's it," she replied with a sigh.
Without a word, Sherlock pulled her closer to him and hugged her tightly. "I love you," he whispered in her ear. "I'm very certain we won't ever have a repeat of this nonsense."
"I love you too," Rose assured him, returning the hug. "Hold me for just a minute, ok?"
Kissing the top of her head, Sherlock murmured in the affirmative and cuddled her for several minutes before letting her go. "It's time to move on to the implementation phase," he decided. "It's getting very late. Pajama bottoms down and over my knee."
Rose stood up and pushed her pajama pants down to her knees before bending over Sherlock's lap. Her panties were pulled down and he wrapped an arm around her waist. The spoon was toss off to the side, at least for the moment, and then Sherlock's right hand came down sharply across the middle of her bottom.
Rather than pepper her bottom with random swats and eventually cover the area completely with firm smacks, Sherlock adopted a different strategy. He began spanking her right cheek, swatting it repeatedly from crest to sit spots until it was blushing pink. Moving on to the left cheek, he repeated the process until that side was also becoming pink. Then it was back to the right side to start over again.
By the time he had returned to the right side for a second time, Rose was beginning to squirm over his lap and let out little noises of discontent. She would be significantly more discontent by the time he was finished, Sherlock reflected.
As he returned to the right side for a third time, Rose began to kick and cry. "Sherlock! Please! Owww! Stop, stop!" she pleaded. A firm "No," was the only verbal response she received. The heat in her backside grew to an intolerable level and the stinging was becoming more and more intense, making it practically impossible for her to keep even reasonably still.
Just when Rose was sure he'd never stop, Sherlock did just that. Her cheeks and sit spots were bright red, sore and radiating heat. Carefully he pulled her panties and pajama bottoms back up and helped her off his lap. Immediately he stood up and hugged her tightly, letting her cry against his chest.
"You're alright," Sherlock tried to soothe her. "It'll be alright. Cry as much as you need too." One hand rubbed up and down her back, encouraging her to calm down a bit. While she still had corner time to complete before he could finish entirely, Sherlock had no intention of making her do so until she'd received some comfort.
When her tears were more under control, he kissed the top of her head and hugged her even tighter before saying, "Corner time now. Nose right in the corner, no talking and no rubbing."
Rose made a whining sound in response but did as she was told, walking over to the corner he'd indicated and putting her nose right in it.
Ten minutes ought to be enough, Sherlock thought. He sat on the bed once more and waited as the minutes ticked slowly by. Picking up the spoon, he weighed it in his hand, debating how severe to be with it. Finally the time came and he called her out of the corner.
"Time to finish up. Back here, over my knee," Sherlock instructed. He watched her wipe a hand across her face before coming to him and pushing down her pajama bottoms once more before going across his knee.
"Will you be able to keep your hands out of the way?" Sherlock asked gently as he bared her bottom once more. "I don't want to smack them with the spoon by mistake."
"Not sure," Rose admitted.
"Do you want me to hold your right hand then?"
She nodded and put her hand back. Sherlock took it, squeezed it encouragingly, and held it against her side.
Seconds later he began spanking her once more, this time with the spoon. "Owwww! No no no!" Rose called out, squirming right from the start. "Sherlock please!"
Her brother didn't respond, focusing instead on the task at hand. The spoon left pink oval marks in its wake as he peppered her sit spots and upper thighs with sharp smacks, and her cheeks were given some attention. Sherlock planned to give her a few dozen, but when Rose began sobbing after sixteen hearty smacks, he couldn't bring himself to keep going.
Tossing the spoon in the direction of the bedroom door, Sherlock once more fixed her clothing and then helped her up from his lap. This time, he settled her on his lap and did his best to keep pressure of her bottom as he hugged her tightly. "Good girl, brave girl," he praised, beginning to rock her slightly. "All over now, and you did so well. I love you Rose." He continued to speak soothingly to her, even if she couldn't hear him over her tears.
Rose pressed her face against his shoulder and continued to sob, the sound of it like a knife to his chest. How he hated being the one to make her cry! Eventually his soothing ministrations worked and Rose calmed down, her tears becoming sniffles.
"You look so tired," Sherlock murmured. "I bought you a present earlier." He pointed across the room and Rose followed his gaze, seeing a lie-low all set up for her.
"I like your bed better," Rose said, giving him a tiny smile.
"That's unfortunate," he teased.
"Don't let me go yet, please?" She looked up at him, her eyes begging him to hold onto her for longer.
"No, I'm not going anywhere," Sherlock hurried to assure her. "I'll tuck you in when you fall asleep. For now, just try to relax and close your eyes."
Rose closed her eyes and let his gentle rocking soothe her even more and before long, she was fast asleep in his arms. Sherlock kept hold of her for several minutes after that, making sure she was asleep before finally getting up to tuck her in, before falling into his own bed.
She slept soundly through the night on the lie-low and likely would have slept for some time if a knock on the door hadn't woke her up.
"Whaaaat?" she groaned sleepily.
The door opened to reveal John. "You should get up. I've got breakfast for you in the kitchen."
Rose only murmured in reply, but did get up and grab Sherlock's dressing robe before making her way to the kitchen.
"How are you?" John asked, concern evident on his face.
"Sleepy."
He laughed. "I can see that. Not quite what I meant though."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm not sitting to eat. Does that answer your question?"
John nodded and began filling a plate for her. "It does; about what I suspected. Will you live?"
"Yes, mores the pity," Rose said, reaching back to rub her sore bottom. "It'll be a long day though."
John put her plate on the kitchen island and kissed the top of her head. It was nice having someone shorter than he was around! "You'll pull through, you're a brave girl. I've some arnica cream I'll let you use later on. Doctor's orders; Sherlock can live with it."
Rose giggled and rewarded him with a bright smile. "You know, you're very loyal very quickly John Watson. But speaking of my brother, where is he?"
"St. Bart's. Molly got in some more bodies for him to play with," John said. "I was told to remind you that you're grounded, so come straight back after Lestrade sets you free for the day, yeah?"
She shook her head. "I'll have to pop into a store first; I no longer own a jacket. Don't think I want it back when they're done with it either."
John frowned. "No, you'd best come straight back. I'll take you after, or Sherlock if he's done."
"That's really silly; come all the way back on the tube, just to go out again to an area I just left to get a jacket? Silly," Rose declared.
"I'll be stern with you if I have to be, miss. Come right back and one of us will take you. If you don't, I'll be very displeased," John warned. "You get yourself in enough trouble as it is; give yourself a break and do what I say, alright?"
Rose sighed but nodded. "Jawohl, herr Kommandant," she agreed with a little sass, adding a salute.
"Captain," John corrected with a chuckle. "And you're incorrigible. Now eat up, I need to send you on your way shortly and then get to the surgery for my shift."
At ten minutes to noon Rose knocked softly on Lestrade's office door and entered the office when he waved for her to do so.
"Well, well, look at you!" Lestrade said with a smile. "Miss Rosenwyn, not just on time but ten minutes early. I'm impressed."
"Rose, please," she said, shaking her head. "No one calls me Rosenwyn unless I'm in trouble."
Lestrade chuckled. "Alright, Rose it is. And since you don't officially work for me, you can call me Lestrade, or Greg, whichever you prefer. Now, how long can I keep you? Are you due back at any special time?"
"No, just whenever you set me free for the day," Rose responded.
Lestrade nodded. "Perfect. I've got a big stack of paperwork for you to type up, and we'll see how that goes. There's even a desk for you to work at." He gestured to the empty desk just outside his office. Rose sat down very gingerly at the desk, her eyes going wide when he plopped the papers down on the desk.
"Now these are pretty straightforward. Each document becomes a separate Word doc that you'll print and bring to me." Lestrade pointed out the printer and continued. "Anything that's stapled together, keep it all in the same Word doc. Save all the docs on this flash drive. Let me know if you have any questions, alright?"
Rose nodded, taking a deep breath. "I will."
"I'll be in my office then." He gave her a smile and went back to sit at his desk and do some of his own paperwork. Lestrade kept a good eye on her as she worked, and couldn't help noticing her inability to sit still for any length of time and the way she eased herself oh-so-gently onto the chair after each time she'd been up.
"Rose, come in here a minute and bring the ones you've printed with you," he finally called, waving her in. "Shut the door behind you as well."
She got up quickly and hurried into the office, handing over the printed documents. "Did I do something wrong already? I've been so careful," Rose commented, her tone filled with worry.
"You're doing just fine," Lestrade assured her with a smile. "Good, quiet worker, nice attention to detail." He cleared his throat before continuing. "Was Sherlock pretty hard on you last night?"
Rose blushed bright red and fell silent.
Lestrade took her silence as a confirmation of his question and didn't want to embarrass her further by asking anything else. "Alright, I'm going to switch it up a bit. I think those can wait until tomorrow or another day. I've got some filing I need done in here that I'll have you do instead, alright? Bring me the flash drive and the ones you haven't finished first," he instructed.
She went back out to the desk, ejected the flash drive and carried it and the stack of papers back into his office. Lestrade promptly dumped them in a box and shoved it under his desk, pulling out a different box. "These need to be put in alphabetical order in the file cabinets. A's start at this one," Lestrade pointed to the one furthest away from the desk. "And work their way around. I've got a couple more boxes full too. You'll have to stand for a while to do this; that alright?"
Rose flashed him a smile. "Oh, very much so. Thanks."
"Alright, back to work with you then." Lestrade waved her in the direction of the cabinet and returned to his paperwork once more.
The afternoon passed fairly quickly as Rose worked on adding the files into the cabinets. Every so often she found some out of place and re-alphabetized what was already in the cabinet before adding anything new. She worked quietly and efficiently, finishing the entire first box just after 4pm.
"Nice work," Lestrade complimented her. "Time for coffee though; I'm sending you off down the block to get it. The stuff here is borderline disgusting on a good day," he admitted. Giving her his order, he handed over a ten pound note.
Rose frowned a bit. "I know my way around coffee drinks, and I don't think yours will be more than four pounds at the very most. Do you have something smaller, or do you need the change?"
"Ten pounds will buy yours and mine," Lestrade told her. "I reward hard workers, so get yourself whatever you'd like, on me.
"Wow! Thank you. You're sure? Alright, don't frown at me," Rose laughed. "I'll be back as quick as I can." Exiting his office, she asked if anyone else wanted something and left with four additional orders to fill. The shop was easy to find and they had the drinks ready fairly quickly and provided her with drink trays to make carrying everything easier.
"Coffee's up!" she called on her return. "Everyone's cup has a name." The drink trays were place on someone's desk and the officers lined up to collect them, while Rose brought her own and Lestrade's into his office.
"Perfect," Lestrade murmured after taking a drink. "If you're not too tired, I think I'll keep you until six. I'm going to keep track of what days you come in and how many hours you're working.
"Six is fine," she assured him. "I'll get back to that filing. Thanks for the drink." Rose returned to work, and had finished another half of a box by the time six rolled around.
"Alright, I've had enough for the day. We should get out of here before someone gets killed and I have to stay late," Lestrade announced. "Need a ride back to Baker Street at all?"
"That's a nice offer, but no thanks. I've got some errands to run, so I'll take the tube back. I need a new jacket since you took mine," Rose admitted. "This one is a spare John loaned me and it's just too army looking for me."
Lestrade nodded. "Alright then, off you go. I'll see you at 8 tomorrow."
"I'll be here," she promised. "Have a good night!" Rose headed out of the building and walked down the street, debating on whether or not she should just take the tube home like she was supposed to, or stop in somewhere and replace what had been kept as evidence. Then a different idea came to her.
'Can I go to Mycroft's and pick up some clothes?'
'No. SH'
'I need clothes!'
'You're grounded from the world. SH'
'From the world? What does that even mean?'
'It is an emphatic no. SH'
Rose growled and decided to text Mycroft. 'I need clothes and Sherlock has grounded me from the world.'
'The world is sighing in relief. M'
'You can't see it, but I'm sticking my tongue out at you right now.'
'I really need to come get clothes from your house.'
'I'll pack some up for you and drop them off. M'
'That's a bad idea. Really bad in fact.'
'Why? M'
'I'd rather not say…'
'Should I be frightened? M'
'Possibly. Coming over. Sherlock can't ground me from the entire world.'
Mycroft rolled his eyes and decided to extricate himself from Rose's dramatics. After last night, she was lucky Sherlock hadn't hired a minder for her!
'She's coming to collect clothing. M'
'I'm going to horribly murder her. But let her get what she wants. SH'
'I'm just thrilled she wears clothing in public, unlike you. M'
'You're never going to let that Buckingham Palace incident go, are you? SH'
'Highly unlikely. M'
As her brothers texted back and forth the girl in question took the tube to the station near Mycroft's house. Walking the few blocks from the station, the large house came into view, taking her breath away for a moment. She hadn't been here in a long time. Was the security code still the same? Just as she was attempting to disarm the system, the front door opened.
"Sherlock knows you're here, by the way," Mycroft stated. "But come in and get some clothing for yourself. What are you hiding in your room?"
Rose rolled her eyes and hurried up the stairs. "Nothing of great importance. A girl needs privacy though." She promptly slammed her bedroom room in his face and gathered up her clothing, including the more revealing items and undergarments that would have given Mycroft a heart attack had he discovered them.
After stuffing as much as she could into two empty boxes, Rose opened the bedroom door and found Mycroft standing just outside it.
"Just to set my mind at ease- are you alright after last night?" Mycroft asked, handing her some packing tape.
"Is that a polite way of asking if Sherlock attempted to murder me?" Rose asked. "I'm alright. Sherlock was… displeased. But I wasn't injured by the whole scuffle. Though I can't say I wasn't pleased when I found out that Sally Donovan was put on paid leave."
Mycroft smirked at her.
"That was you?" She asked, her eyes wide. "Lord, you really are running Britain, aren't you? That's slightly frightening, but reassuring at the same time. But thanks for that, makes my volunteer time much easier. I should be off."
"You cannot carry those large boxes yourself and take them on the tube. Let me drive you back," Mycroft offered.
Rose smiled and eagerly agreed, relieved she wouldn't have to try to juggle those boxes alone. She chatted with Mycroft a bit about what she'd been doing for Lestrade that day, passing the ten minute drive pleasantly.
"I've got them, no worries. Thanks for the ride!" Rose gave him a wave before hefting the boxes into the building. She didn't get far into the building before she ran into something, unable to see very well thanks to the boxes. Only it turned out not to be a something, but rather a someone, who took the boxes right out of her hands.
John placed them on the floor and pushed them off to the side before standing up to his full height, crossing his arms over his chest, and stared her down.
Rose gulped. "You're home early," she said carefully. "I thought you were at surgery until eight."
"And you were counting on that, clearly," John said sternly. "You were told to come straight back here after Lestrade dismissed you for the day, by Sherlock and by me."
"I needed clothes and Sherlock was uncooperative," Rose replied quietly.
"I told you this morning that if you came right home, I'd take you to get some things, didn't I?"
"Yes… but-"
"No, miss. No buts, except the one that's about to get smacked." John pointed up the stairs to their flat. "Get upstairs now; I'll bring the boxes."
Rose scowled darkly, putting her hands on her hips. "No, John. You can't do that."
"Oh yes, I can and will. You'd best start cooperating. Last chance to go up the stairs on your own," John warned.
"You wouldn't dare!"