John shrugged. "Don't say I never gave you fair warning." He reached out and took Rose by the ear and began going back upstairs, forcing her to follow.

"Ow! Ow!" Rose yelped. "The ear is delicate, stop that. Ow, please!"

Despite what John was sure were very heartfelt protests, he refused to release his hold on her ear, using it to guide her into the flat and directly over to the couch. Releasing her ear, he sat down, and gave her a pointed look. "You deliberately disobeyed me. I was very clear this morning about what was expected of you; volunteer and come home, go nowhere else. And you chose to defy me and that, young lady, I will not stand for."

His tone was all Captain Watson now, not the soft-spoken John she'd come to know. This man meant business and Rose knew it as she stood there beside him, rubbing her abused ear.

"Over my lap immediately miss. We're taking care of this right here and right now." John looked at her expectantly and managed to hide his surprise when Rose did precisely what he said, leaning across knees.

"When I tell you to do something, you are expected to do it. Do you understand me?" John held on to her firmly, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Yes, yes, I do, I promise!" Rose answered quickly. "Please don't, I'm so sorry! Don't John, please!" Her right hand went back to try and shield her bottom from any forthcoming smacks but John easily caught it and held it to the small of her back.

Despite his firm hold, Rose was squirming and wriggling already and he hadn't even begun to spank her. All her efforts gained her was making her skirt ride up ever closer to her backside. John pushed it up and away from his target, raised his hand, and brought it down with a resounding smack across her backside.

Rose gasped, going still for a moment, until he swatted her again and she resumed her squirming. "Oww! Not so hard! Ow! I'm so sore, ow ow ow!" Three smacks fell in quick succession, one on top of the other. "Pleeeeeeease! I'll be good, I swear!"

Already John could hear the strain in her voice but he forced himself to ignore that. He continued to soundly spank her cheeks, sit spots, and even gave her upper thighs a few good swats, causing Rose to let out a howl of protest.

It was at just that moment Sherlock walked into 221B. His eyes grew wide for a moment at the sight of his sister, upended over John's lap, having her bottom soundly spanked. "I've missed something, haven't I?" That happened so rarely that he was quite taken aback by the realization that he hadn't deduced this concept prior to its occurrence.

"Bit busy here, Sherlock," John pointed out, continuing to spank.

"Sherlock! Make him stop!" Rose shouted at her brother. "Please!"

"I have no idea what you did, but I'm certain John is being quite fair," Sherlock said casually as he made his way into the kitchen. Certain they would all need some coffee shortly, he stared a pot of it.

John continued to spank, while Rose continued to cry and plead, until he could tell her cheeks were brightly red, even through her panties. After a few last hearty smacks to her sit spots, he stopped and released her hand.

Sobbing brokenheartedly, Rose pushed herself up from his lap and practically ran into Sherlock's room, slamming the door behind her. John let out a quiet sigh as he watched her go, before turning his attention to Sherlock. "Look, I'm sorry if I went over the line. I'm not even quite sure where all that came from," John admitted.

"I'm not concerned," Sherlock responded, entering the sitting room. "Rose has that effect on just about everyone."

The bedroom door opened and a pillow was tossed at Sherlock; it missed.

"Do you think I was too hard on her?"

Sherlock shook his head. "But you're not done, are you?"

John gave him a quizzical look. "I'm quite sure her poor bottom couldn't take anymore. In fact, I'm going to insist she use some arnica cream when she calms down. You can't seriously be suggesting I go in there and spank her more."

"John," Sherlock responded with a great sigh. It was a sigh that clearly indicated John was, once again, not following. "Of course not, but you have to do the after bit now."

"After bit?"

Sherlock nodded. "Hug her, rub her back, tell her she was very brave and that everything is forgiven, dry her face. The after things."

John looked thoughtful. "Will she let me comfort her?"

"I've never known her to turn it away and I'm not entirely certain she'll ever look at you the same way again if you don't at least try," Sherlock responded quietly.

"Right," John agreed. Taking a deep breath he went to knock on Sherlock's bedroom door. He received no response and waited just a moment before entering anyway. Rose was curled up on her side, hugging a pillow, sobbing; the sight of it was like a punch in the gut and John hurried across the room.

"Oh love," he murmured, kneeling beside the bed. John reached out gently to stroke her hair with one hand and wrapping his other arm around her in an awkward sort of hug. "Shhhh," he soothed. "It'll be alright. You'll be alright Rose, I promise. You were very, very brave. I'm so proud of you for that." When she continued to cry, John felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and doubt. Had he been too hard on her? Had he injured her?

"Rose, love, I didn't injure you did I?" He was immensely relieved when she shook her head no. "Good. I would never intentionally do that, I hope you know that. That's not the sort of person I am."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Rose repeated several times through her tears.

Despite her assurance that she wasn't injured, John's doctoring instincts weren't entirely convinced. "On your stomach love, roll over," John instructed. "I want to make sure you aren't hurt and I'll even make it feel a bit better if you let me check."

She put up no fight at all and rolled from her side onto her stomach without so much as a word, which only made him even more worried. He'd never spanked anyone before, and he was starting to think he really had done too much.

John flipped her skirt up, cringing at how red her bottom looked even through her panties. "I'm going to take these down now. I'll be as gentle as I can," he assured Rose. Moving slowly and carefully, John pulled her panties down and out of the way, unable to hide a wince as he did so.

"Oh love, you're about spanked out, aren't you?" he murmured, not really expecting an answer.

"Sherlock's going to spank me later," Rose replied through her tears. The thought of yet another spanking was very depressing, considering how much her bum hurt at that moment.

"Oh no he's not," John said firmly. "You've had enough for one day and I'll set him straight on that."

Rose finally turned her head to look at him. "What if he doesn't listen?"

"Then he'll have Captain Watson to deal with." John gave her a wink and grinned for a moment. It pleased him to no end when she managed to give him a little smile in return. "I'm going to fix you up and then we're having a cuddle. You were such a brave girl, do you know that?" He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'll be right back."

Leaving her bedside, John briefly exited the bedroom to locate Sherlock. "Get my kit, will you? She's going to bruise, and badly, if I don't do something. Fix an ice pack as well."

Sherlock stared at him for a moment, looking absolutely horrified.

"It's only to be expected," John admitted. "After last night and today, it's not surprising at all. She'll be just fine Sherlock, promise. But I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't do something to ease it."

"Ah. First do no harm," Sherlock murmured.

"That and her tears are breaking my heart right now," John admitted. "I don't know how you manage to do this, I really don't. Go get the kit and bring it in please, and then make the ice pack." As Sherlock headed upstairs, John returned to the bedroom and knelt down by Rose once more.

"Let it all out love," John encouraged her quietly. "Cry as much as you need to. I'm right here and I won't let you go." He kissed the top of her head before stroking her hair gently once more. "You'll be alright, I promise. You're a good girl, I know it love. A good, brave girl."

Sherlock arrived with the kit a moment later and John located the arnica cream. "This cream is going to keep you from bruising too much and it should help all around," he explained to Rose. "I'll be as gentle as I can putting this on. Are you ready?"

When she nodded, he began to rub the cream on her sore bum, doing his best to be gentle about it. Still, she whimpered and squirmed and John felt like such a jerk for spanking her, even if she had deserved it. "Alright, that's done. You were very brave," he praised, putting the cream away. "Let me wash my hands, I'll be just a second."

By the time John returned, Rose had returned her clothing to its appropriate place and he wasted no time picking her up, ignoring the strain on his shoulder. He sat on the bed, leaned against the headboard, and settled Rose against him, wrapping his arms around her as tight as he dared. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when Rose responded by snuggling close and resting her head against his chest.

The cuddling was quite effective and Rose's tears gradually disappeared. "That's my good girl," he praised. "Feeling better now? Sherlock's going to make an ice pack for you."

"I don't think I like Captain Watson," she murmured. "I like just John better."

John chuckled and squeezed her tight. "Be good and I won't have to have that tone again, yeah?"

"You're good at this," she decided. "It's making it difficult to be mad at you. I should be, but I just can't manage it."

John blushed a bit at her compliment. "You don't look very mad. I'm not even sure it's possible for a person to be mad while having a cuddle."

"It's difficult, but I'm trying," Rose quipped, sounding anything but upset with him. "I am not going to have fun volunteering tomorrow. I might have to bribe Lestrade."

"I'll put more cream on in the morning for you," he offered. "If I let you go by yourself there and back, will you come home like you should?"

"I don't have any reason not to now. I have clothes," Rose pointed out. "Or I did. Where did those boxes end up?"

John laughed. "Not quite the answer I was looking for, but I'll take it all the same. I'll make sure Sherlock brings them up."

A knock at the door caused both of them to look up as Sherlock opened the door. "Ice pack," he said, holding it up.

"Alright, on your stomach again," John instructed Rose. He was surprised to be slightly reluctant at letting go of her.

Rose complied, extricating herself from John's arms to lie down on the bed, wincing as Sherlock placed the ice pack on her bottom. He sat down beside her and rubbed her back. "Will you live to misbehave another day?" he teased.

"Yes, unfortunately for you," she retorted. "And this is all your fault you know."

"Oh really?" Sherlock asked, an eyebrow raised. "Do tell, sister dear."

"You grounded me from the world and I needed clothing."

John burst out laughing. "You grounded her from the world? What does that even mean?"

"That's what I said," Rose giggled.

"It means she's confined to just plaguing us and Lestrade with her presence for another six days," Sherlock said. "And you're lucky John got hold of you before I did." He leaned over to kiss the back of her head, lessening the lightly scolding tone. "I told you not to go to Mycroft's."

Rose rolled her eyes. "I get it, I get it. So sorry I didn't want to be naked. Besides, you couldn't have gotten angry with me for that anyway."

Sherlock let out a huff of disbelief. "Oh do tell, Rose. Explain this logic of yours."

"You said I was grounded with the exception of preparations for moving in next door," she began. "And today, at Mycroft's, I prepared for moving. I took items from my old bedroom, put them in previously empty boxes, and sealed them with packing tape. Therefore, I was packing, which was an allowed activity per your own specifications."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "That was an unintentional loop hole," Sherlock grumbled.

"She's got you there," John laughed. "That doesn't happen often; let me savor this moment. I might even want to mark it on the calendar so we can celebrate it yearly."

"Oh, I like that! Let's do it," Rose agreed with a bright grin.

"Oh do shut up John," Sherlock replied indignantly.

The following morning, Rose walked into Lestrade's office carrying two coffees from down the block. "Early again, nicely done. One of those for me?" Lestrade asked, giving her a grin.

"Yes," she confirmed. "But it's not a gift, it's a bribe."

Lestrade laughed, shaking his head. "You do know it's illegal to bribe law enforcement officers, yeah?"

"Yes and no," Rose told him. "Yes, it is illegal, but only in certain instances. I cannot bribe you in exchange for privileges in prison, as a way to evade charges, or in any function that may give me something of value in relation to criminal activity. But, lucky for you, I'm quite innocent of any wrong doing. Today, anyway."

"So far?"

"That's very unkind Greg," Rose said, unable to stop from laughing. "I will give you this very lovely drink, which I know you like very much, in exchange for not making me sit down today. At all. For any reason."

"Done." He reached for the drink. "Going to tell me why? I thought you had resolved to behave yourself for a bit."

Her face flushed. "John and I had a disagreement yesterday. It ended badly... for me."

Lestrade leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Really now! Didn't see that one coming," he admitted. "That explains why John sent me a text this morning, asking me to make certain you're escorted home this evening. I was wondering about that."

"You look far too interested in this for my liking, Detective Inspector," Rose retorted, raising her chin defiantly. "There seems to be a collective of people forming that delight in the trials and tribulations of my life."

"Now, now, don't get defensive," Lestrade said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Just remember, I'm the one that you just asked not to make you sit down today. I could change my mind you know." He was teasing, just to see what she'd say.

He wasn't disappointed. Rose looked outraged and said "I bought you coffee! You wouldn't! No, wait, wait, don't say anything. I take that back. I don't think I'm going to say things like that anymore, it never ends well."

Lestrade laughed again, shaking his head. "Those are very famous last words. That what you said last night?"

"Yes. John did indeed dare. I was not pleased," Rose grumbled.

"I'll put in a good word for you before I send you home today," Lestrade promised. "On with the filing, if you would be so kind."

She promptly stuck her tongue out at him before getting to work.

'Why are you in a police vehicle? M'

'Hello to you too. Getting a ride home from volunteering.'

'Just checking. M'

'I actually can manage to go an entire day without causing trouble, you know.'

'Please do let me know when that occurs. I'll arrange for medical personnel to be standing by. M'

'What?'

'To restart my heart so I don't die from the shock of it. M'

'I never should have given you my mobile number.'

'I would have gotten it anyway. Hardly a challenge. M'

'Don't be creepy Mycroft. Alert the cavalry, I'm home now.'

Several hours later Sherlock and John trudged back to Baker Street, completely exhausted. Sherlock had managed to find a lead on Lestrade's case, despite the issues with the evidence, and the two had staked out a club where their suspect was due to work that evening. Unfortunately, they looked so out of place that the suspect, already rather high-strung, was immediately suspicious and fled on foot. They pursued, running around London for the better part of an hour before managing to get their hands on the suspect and subdue him. Or rather, John subdued and Sherlock called Lestrade.

"You know, we should bring Rose if we ever do that again," John pointed out as they headed towards their building. "She wouldn't have looked out of place at all and could've been our eyes and ears."

Sherlock scowled and held the door open. "That's a horrible suggestion. She could be hurt. Or become intoxicated. Or someone might make a "pass" at her and then I would be forced to disembowel said person. That gets messy."

"Did you ever use that GPS on her mobile to see if she stayed home?" John asked curiously.

"No need. I trust her. Besides, she doesn't want Captain Watson around again," Sherlock replied with a smug look on his face.

John laughed and headed up the stairs. Sure enough, Rose was on the couch, curled up under a blanket, reading.

"A note about the severed hands in the fridge would have been nice," she complained to Sherlock.

"What did you do with them?"

"They're in a crisper tray. Its disgusting Sherlock. I can't wait to have my own fridge!"

Sherlock smirked. "More storage space for experiments."

"Not a chance," Rose retorted. "Anything gross in my fridge will get tossed. And I mean at you, not in the garbage."

"Hmm," Sherlock replied. He went straight to the fridge, assessing the state of the severed hands. "There's a dish in here."

"Did you cook?" John asked.

"Yes, you beastly boys. Slave away making lasagna for you and don't even bother to come home. Or text. Why am I the only one who has to account for her whereabouts in this… Whatever it is?" Rose asked seriously.

"Because you're the only one grounded from the world, that's why," Sherlock quipped.

"And we're very proud of you for coming right home," John added with a smile.

"Yes, because it was so uncertain that I would make it. I only had a ride from Lestrade after all, that you requested for me." She stuck her tongue out at John, who merely responded by kissing the top of her head.

"No! No! Back in the crisper Sherlock! Or just toss them out. That's so disgusting," Rose yelled.

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock did as she asked. "Hard to believe we're related, given how squeamish you are. No sense of adventure. Or appreciation of science.

"If all body parts are out of the fridge, or at least out of sight, I'll warm up some food for you both," Rose offered.

"Now that's what I appreciate," John said. "Warm food."

For all his complaining of her squeamishness, Sherlock hugged Rose close when she entered the kitchen. "Don't forget we're having a discussion this evening."

"No food for you," Rose immediately responded.

"Go easy on her Sherlock, I mean it." John warned firmly.

"Better behave Sherlock, or Captain Watson will get you," she snickered.

"No, Captain Watson is reserved for incorrigible brats such as you. And do not worry yourself John, I'll take care," Sherlock promised.

"Is this really going to become a joke now, my rank? I'm not sure I appreciate that," John said, shaking his head.

"We need all the weapons we can against the level of mischief she gets up to," Sherlock replied with a straight face. "Ow!"

Rose smirked. "So sorry, didn't mean to pinch you. Now, you two eat, I'm going to shower and get ready for bed since you've both returned safely." She kissed Sherlock's cheek before exiting the kitchen.

When Sherlock knocked on the bedroom door a short time later, Rose was curled up in his bed with the book she'd been reading earlier. He sat down beside her and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "How are you?"

"How am I or how is my arse?" Rose asked seriously.

"The later."

"Hardly any bruising at all, just a couple teeny tiny ones. John's cream works miracles. Still hurts though," Rose admitted, blushing. "I hate this. You know that, right? I hate it when I… when I…"

"When you misbehave to such an extent that you require significant punishment?" Sherlock filled in. When she nodded, he wrapped his arms around her. "You understand it is not a reflection on your character, correct? You are a good person, you do many things just as you should, but you still make some unfortunate choices or neglect to think things through. That's rather symptomatic of your age."

"I know," Rose confirmed. "But that never makes this any easier. It's really, really hard to do this part."

Sherlock nodded. "I know. But you're not alone and you are very much loved." He held her in silence for a few moments before speaking again. "We should finish this, Rosie. You've got an early morning after all." He chuckled when she made a whining noise. "Trust me. Please."

Rose nodded and stood up, waiting while Sherlock repositioned himself on the bed. Once he was finished, she bent over his lap and felt his arm around her waist. She expected her bottom to be bared, but it wasn't.

Intent on not hurting her, but also intending to follow through on what he had said, Sherlock took a deep breath and raised his right hand, bringing it down lightly on her right cheek. He cringed when she yelped; she must be very, very sore still. He lightly smacked her left cheek and Rose squirmed.

"I cannot do this," he said. "Up, I cannot do this right now." Sherlock helped her up from his lap, not at all surprised by the confused look on her face.

"Normally I would not even consider renegotiating a punishment, but I think, in this case, I need to," Sherlock explained. "No more spanking until the very last night of your grounding. By then you'll be all healed up and I won't feel like a bastard taking you over my knee again."

Rose stood there for a moment, having no idea how to respond. Finally, she gingerly sat on his lap and hugged him as tightly as she could. "Thank you."

"Don't tell Mycroft, he won't ever let me live it down," he whispered conspiratorially.