Rose was groggy, but awake when the three men descended on the hospital. They all stared at her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not now was the time to scold and who should do said scolding.

"Didn't believe me did, you?" John finally asked. He didn't look at her as he said it. Instead, he studied her, trying to assess the damage she might have done to herself. "Hit your head, did you? Got a lovely goose egg growing on the side there," he murmured, pointing to it but not touching it.

"My head hurts," she whispered. "Nobody yell at me yet, please?"

That drew a smile from each of the men.

"So you know you're in trouble then," Sherlock concluded.

"Solves half your problem right there, brother," Mycroft told him. Convincing Rose she was actually in the wrong was sometimes half the battle of disciplining her. If she already recognized she had made a poor choice, the rest would be much easier.

"Lots and lots of trouble," John decided. "I'm going to tie you to your bed when we get you home." It was an empty threat.

Mycroft's eyebrow quirked. "That's really not a bad idea," he decided after a moment's thought.

Rose gave the concerned doctor a smile, recognizing his words for what they were. "How'd you all know?"

"Your partner called," Sherlock explained.

"And you clearly lost consciousness at some point if you didn't know that. Bloody good job," John grumbled.

"You're going to give the attending quite a hassle, aren't you?" Mycroft asked John with a smirk.

The attending in question arrived just then and John did indeed begin running the show with an air of authority that took the other physician by surprise.

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock moved closer to the bed and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "You, my dear sister, are almost a full time job all by yourself," he commented. "No wonder poor Mycroft's hairline is receding."

"I can feel Mycroft glaring at you," Rose whispered. Her eyes were only half open, but she gave him a little smile. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Sherlock took her hand and squeezed it gently. "And so you should be. Before you ask, no, I won't be keeping you from practice, once the good doctor feels you are sufficiently recovered. But make no mistake; we'll be discussing this at length."

Rose groaned loudly, startling everyone around her, including the attending physician.

"Are you in pain?" he asked, trying to get closer to the patient and further away from John Watson.

"No, no pain. I was just informing her we were going to have a discussion about taking proper care of herself," Sherlock stated.

John snorted. "Oh, you better believe we are."

The attending, a Dr. Emerson frowned a bit before nodding. "Well, Miss Holmes, you've got a very concerned physician here in Dr. Watson. Saw you earlier today but neglected to take his advice I hear. If you would all step out, or at least step back, I'd like to examine the patient for myself."

After an IV and fluids were started, Dr. Emerson sent Rose for a scan to make certain she hadn't injured herself during her fall. It came back clean. "We're going to keep you a few hours yet. You need the fluids before you can be released," he explained to Rose. "I'll get you some food as well, since you haven't eaten in a while."

There was a collective sigh of relief from the three men.

"You see? If you'd just listened to me earlier, you wouldn't be here right now," John scolded Rose lightly. "You're a very stubborn girl, Rosenwyn Holmes. Very stubborn."

"Yes, she is," Mycroft agreed. He shooed John and Sherlock away from Rose for a moment, sitting beside her on the hospital bed. "How are you? Apart from that nasty bump on the head?" He reached out to push some curls out of her face.

"Okay. Really, I am. I didn't mean for this to happen," Rose said quietly.

"I know. You never do," Mycroft responded just as softly. "Will you do this to yourself again?"

"No," she assured him. "It would have been far less hassle to listen to John than come in here."

He nodded. "Good girl. Do you need me to stay? Or want me to stay?"

"I'll be alright. But… will you come by Baker Street later? If you have time that is."

Mycroft smiled, his heart warming at her question. "Of course poppet," he whispered, blushing a bit. It was disturbing to be so affectionate in the presence of other people, even if it was only Sherlock and John. In addition, it was a bit odd to be the 'gentle' person, rather than the one who would be tasked with spanking her for this nonsense. But odd in a nice way. It wasn't fun to be the growling, angry one with her all the time.

"With a present?" Rose asked, teasing him.

"No," Mycroft laughed. "An excellent try, but most definitely no."

She smiled and reached for his hand, squeezing it. "Worth a try."

"I really should return to the prime minister. He'll be happy to hear you're alright. I think he was slightly appalled that my initial reaction was to roll my eyes rather than panic. But he doesn't have you for a sister, so he could never understand," Mycroft said with a smile. "I'll stop by later. Have Sherlock text if you need me." After kissing her forehead, he departed, knowing he was leaving his sister in the best of care.

It was almost 1am before Rose was released from the hospital, with strict instructions not unlike those John had given her earlier in the day. The trio stopped to fill the script John had written before going back to Baker Street. The directive to sleep was followed quite quickly and the two men discovered she was fast asleep by the time the cab pulled up to the curb.

"Get the doors, will you?" Sherlock asked, scooping her up. Unlike the trip into surgery, he carried her in his arms rather than over his shoulder, following John up the stairs and into their flat, going right into his bedroom.

Rather than shuffle Rose around too much, Sherlock decided to give up his bed for the night rather than fix up the lie-low for her. After tucking her into the bed, he exited the room, leaving the door cracked.

While she slept, Sherlock and John began plotting her fate. "Some minder you turned out to be," John grumbled good-naturedly. "Snuck right out under your nose."

"You have to understand, I haven't lived in the same home with her in a very long time. I'm not… current in all her ways of making mischief. Getting there, but not fully current," Sherlock admitted. He almost looked a little embarrassed by that fact; or by having to admit that.

"The bigger question is: what are we going to do with her?" John asked.

"Grounding is out of the question," Sherlock stated. "I cannot, in good conscience, ground her from activities pertinent to her chosen profession, whatever Mycroft's sentiments on it."

John nodded, acknowledging the other man's point. "Forgive me if I'm out of bounds, but she needs a good, hard spanking for pulling a stunt like this. She could have seriously hurt herself when she took that fall. You don't mess about with your health, particularly when you depend on your body as much as a dancer does. She should have known better and actually listened for a change."

"I completely agree. And you're not at all out of bounds. In fact, I think you should spank her," Sherlock decided.

"Me?" The idea had certainly crossed his mind, but Rose wasn't his sister. It spoke volumes about how much Sherlock trusted him.

"She defied your instructions to rest and take care of herself, and as a result went in to hospital," he continued on as if John had never spoken. "That was very deliberate disobedience of what were very clearly communicated directives."

"She didn't listen to you either," John added.

Sherlock nodded. "I agree, but we can't both spank her. If you want your message about her health to be quite clear, John, I suggest you handle this issue. I'll deal with her decision to sneak out of the flat in an alternative fashion."

"Meaning what?"

A slow, devious smile crept across Sherlock's face. "Meaning I'm going to come up with something terribly boring for her to do. That will be far worse than a second spanking," he mused.

John shook his head. "This isn't going to go over well with her, is it?"

"No, and why should it? It's a punishment John." Sherlock used that 'isn't that completely obvious to you' tone as he responded. "In all likelihood, she'll be far more compliant about it after you spank her. It's perfect really. Then she gets away with nothing but isn't overly disciplined."

"Well, sounds like you have everything all straightened out then," John decided. "If you're certain you can mind her this time, I'm going to bed. I'm done in."

"Of course I can mind her," Sherlock said with a scowl. "She is sleeping after all."

"Lines. You want me to write lines, Sherlock? That is… horrifically dull," Rose decided upon hearing their plan.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. Of course that would be the one thing she'd object to. Not that he could really blame her, he would never condescend to write lines for anyone at any age, which is why it was the perfect punishment for his very thoughtless little sister.

"You're mad if you think I'm going to write you or anyone else any lines, or let him spank me," she continued on. "Absolutely not. I simply refuse on all counts." Her tone indicated that the matter was closed, at least as far as she was concerned.

Sherlock had other ideas. "I take exception to your tone," he stated, his voice dangerously low. "Great exception in fact. And if you believe I'm looking for your opinion, or doing something so foolish as to ask for your cooperation, you are sadly mistaken, my dear sister. Very. Sadly. Mistaken. You're quite lucky you didn't crack your thick skull open yesterday."

"Well I didn't, so what is the fuss about then?" Rose asked. She calmly sipped her orange juice, watching Sherlock and John closely as she did so, before putting the glass down. There was only so far she could push Sherlock, and even she knew that.

"My god, you are a stubborn little idiot, aren't you?" Sherlock grumbled.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Stop it Rosenwyn!" Sherlock shouted. "You will not mess around with your health! Bloody fine dancer you'll make if you collapse at your competition because you're too stubborn to listen to anyone else, including a doctor. You seemed so remorseful last night, was that all just an act?"

Rose sighed. "No."

"What changed then?"

"I got better."

John's mouth dropped open. Sherlock was going to strangle her, right in front of him. He was absolutely certain of it when Sherlock stood up from his chair. "Sherlock! Sherlock, don't do anything rash!"

Sherlock ignored his flat mate, stalked across the room, and hauled Rose up from the couch by her arm. "Why are you being such a childish little brat?" he demanded, punctuating each word with a hard smack to her behind.

"Ow! Ow! Sherlock no!" Rose squealed, putting a hand back to try and shield her bum.

"Move. Your. Hand."

She shook her head no, making a little whining noise as she did so. Even with her robe and pajamas on, that had hurt!

"I've come at a bad time, haven't I?" Mycroft asked as he stood in the doorway.

Rose took advantage of Sherlock's surprise and scurried away from him, going straight into the bedroom and slamming the door behind her. Sherlock made to go after her, but Mycroft held up a hand. "Allow me."

"Rosenwyn Aramantha, come back in this room immediately," Mycroft ordered, his tone steely. Sherlock flinched a bit at hearing it. That tone never boded well for anyone.

Rose, however, did not emerge.

"If I have to come in there and drag you back out, I promise that you will regret it most sincerely."

The bedroom door cracked open. "Why?" Rose asked carefully.

Mycroft's eyebrow rose. "Come here. Right here." He pointed to a spot on the carpet in front of him. "Now."

Much to John's amazement, Rose did precisely that. She didn't look happy about it, but she'd done it just the same.

"Explain your behavior."

Rose opened her mouth to answer, and then swiftly closed it, as if trying to decide what she should tell Mycroft. "I'd rather not," she finally responded in a soft tone.

"You'd rather not," he repeated. "Meaning that you are fully aware the behavior you were displaying was unacceptable and you do not have an excuse for it, correct?"

She nodded, her eyes fixated on the floor.

"Being an adult entails accepting responsibility for ones actions, not having fits of pique like a five-year-old," Mycroft lectured. "Are you going to stop this nonsense and not put up such a fuss with Sherlock?"

Again, she nodded.

"Then you have something to say, don't you?"

This time Rose actually looked up as she turned towards her brother and John. "I'm sorry for being argumentative. I'll be good," she promised.

"Excellent. Now find a corner and occupy it. Without any whining," Mycroft added.

Sighing inwardly, Rose went to the corner near the bookshelves, completely missing John's look of astonishment as she did so. Despite himself, John was incredibly impressed.

"Clearly, she's feeling much better," Mycroft stated. "But I think I'll come back later for a visit. Good luck gentlemen." With that being said, he took his leave.

"Would you like to come speak reasonably with me now?" Sherlock asked after Mycroft departed.

"Yes," Rose responded. When Sherlock released her from the corner, she went straight to him, letting him pull her onto his lap.

"I hate it when Mycroft has that tone," she sighed.

"Me too," Sherlock admitted, hugging her tightly. "Shall we start over?"

"Please. Just don't expect me to be thrilled, alright?"

He chuckled. "Of course not. Now, as I was trying to tell you before, it was really John you defied, much more so than me. He's a doctor and when he gives you directives about your health, you need to listen to them. If you don't, there's no reason why he shouldn't spank you for disobeying him and not caring for yourself. He cares about you too, you know."

Rose sighed and nodded. "I know."

"But since you did sneak out rather than rest as I asked you to do, which is why you'll be writing lines. Because it's horribly boring and you'll make sure you never have to write lines again. Admit it, it's effective that way," Sherlock told her. "Two hundred lines, sitting on a chair, after your spanking. I'll come up with something suitable for you to copy."

"That's the part that bothers me the most. Chairs are hard," she pointed out. "That's going to be painful and two hundred lines will take ages."

"I know, and that's rather the point," he replied. "And if you don't behave, then you can do them while sitting on your bare bum plus get a spanking from me. I'm sure you'd rather avoid all that."

"I would, very much so," Rose admitted.

"Then stop being ridiculous, will you?" Sherlock's tone was light, but earnest. "Things always go better when you cooperate and I wouldn't let John have at you if I didn't trust him completely. You don't think he's going to injure you, do you?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. It's just… embarrassing. You're my brother and he isn't."

"But he is someone that cares about you," he countered. "And if it's a bit embarrassing, maybe that will be added incentive to take better care of yourself, don't you think?"

"I hate it when you're right," Rose grumbled.

Sherlock's mobile went off and he kissed the top of her head before looking at it. "There's been another one. Lestrade wants me at the crime scene. This is bad timing."

John frowned. "Does that mean there's a good time to be murdered?"

Rolling his eyes, the detective nudged Rose off his lap before standing up. "Be good for John. I'll be back when I can. Get her started on those lines if necessary." This last was directed at John right before Sherlock hurried down the stairs to hail a cab.

Rose and John let out sighs simultaneously, prompting her to giggle just a bit.

"Let's sit on the couch," John decided. "I want to talk to you. Just talk for now," he added knowing Sherlock often made references to 'discussions' that weren't really discussions at all. He moved to the couch and waved her over, smiling when she complied.

"I know what all that fuss was about," he said quietly. "It had nothing to do with getting spanked, did it? You expected that, am I right?"

"Yes. I don't think I like it when you're right anymore than I like it when Sherlock is," Rose said, giving him a small smile.

John gave her an encouraging smile in return. "You were nervous and didn't know how to say it."

Rose nodded, looking down at the couch cushion that separated them.

"Sherlock and Mycroft have been smacking your behind all your life. They can't do much to surprise you anymore. Routine, or consistency, can be really comforting. I, on the other hand, just smacked you over that issue when you were grounded and it really wasn't a proper spanking. More a spur of the moment, just wanting to make a point," John mused.

"How'd you know?" she asked, looking up at him.

"You're not really much of a tantrum thrower. Oh, you get plenty stroppy at times, just like Sherlock, but this was different. This was well on its way to being an all-out tantrum. So I asked myself, why would she tantrum now, when she really hasn't before? The fact that it was me was the only difference."

"You're much smarter at times then Sherlock gives you credit for," Rose decided. "I wasn't sure Sherlock would really understand if I tried to tell him and I also didn't want to say it in front of you and hurt your feelings, because it's not as if I'm afraid of you."

John smiled. "That's very good to hear. It wouldn't have hurt my feelings, had you explained this to Sherlock in front of me. I'm quite sure that would have been much easier than being hauled off the couch for some smacks and then called to task by Mycroft."

"That was an unfortunate moment," she sighed. "Embarrassing. I hate it when he gets that tone. The 'you better do what I say right now or there's a paddle in my desk with your name on it.' Must not have had it with him though, since he left. I was glad of that; that thing bloody hurts. I'd really prefer not to be howling like a baby." Her cheeks went pink as she admitted that to him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Can't blame you there. Not that you're getting out of a spanking with me, miss. I can't believe you went off like that last night. You could have given yourself head trauma. I was frightened for you, when Sherlock sent me that text saying you'd been taken to hospital."

"I wish I had listened. It really was rather frightening. I was dancing and then I got so dizzy and Alfred helped me over to the side, got me some water and then I don't remember anything else. I must have passed out completely and hit my head on the table on my way down," Rose speculated.

John pinched the bridge of his nose, trying hard not to think of her head bouncing off a table and then smacking hard on the floor. Unfortunately, the nose pinch didn't work. "Well," he said after a moment. "Do you have any questions about why you're getting a spanking? Or how it's going to go?"

She looked down at the couch cushion again. "What are you going to use?" Rose was pretty certain she wasn't going to get away with something like this with only a hand spanking.

"That's… a really good question actually," John admitted, frowning.

"Wait, you don't know? That's a really bad answer. You're not very good at this," Rose decided, unable to keep from giggling just a bit.

He rolled his eyes. "Why don't you go find yourself a corner again while I figure that out," he decided. "Think about how you're going to take care of yourself from now on."

With a huff, Rose got up and did as he asked, heading over to the corner by the bookshelf.

John got up from the couch, trying to formulate a plan. Why had he asked her if she had questions if he didn't even know what he was going to do yet? He'd expected her to say no and one should always expect the unexpected from a Holmes!

This was far too serious to use just his hand, it really was. And, if he made the message clear now, John felt certain they could avoid future issues. He wandered into the kitchen, feeling certain he could find something there that would be appropriate; after all, his mother always had!

Rose fidgeted in the corner, wanting to turn around and see what John was doing, yet resisted the urge to do so; barely.

Opening a drawer of cooking utensils, a black spatula caught John's eye. It had a good, wide flat surface and might work just fine. To test it, he smacked his own palm with it. It stung and he shook his hand afterwards. Yep, that would do it.

"Alright love, let's get this taken care of," John called, returning to the couch. He sat in the middle and put the spatula down beside him as Rose made her way back over. "I'm going to use this," he explained, gesturing to the spatula. "Not the whole time, but I think it'll really drive the point home."

"Now you sound like you know what you're doing. I should have kept my mouth shut," Rose admitted with a sigh.

"Alright, over my knee, miss." John helped her across his lap then made quick work of pulling her pajama bottoms down to her knees.

"Nooooo," Rose whined, even as she attempted to settle herself into a reasonably comfortable position.

"Yes," John said sternly, using his Captain Watson tone once more. "Your brother told me to give you a proper spanking and in this case, I've no qualms about doing just that. You were completely reckless with your health and risked being seriously injured. If you can't be bothered to remember to sleep properly or help your body function with proper water and food intake, I'm more than happy to provide you with a reason to do so."

With that being said, John cracked his hand down on her bottom at a rapid fire pace. He kept an arm wrapped around her waist, anticipating that she'd squirm or even kick at some point and he was determined she not be able to wriggle off his lap.

"Oww!" Rose yelped. She had wanted to take her spanking with as much stoicism and bravery as she could muster, but right from the start Rose knew that was a losing battle. The swats were completely unpredictable, sometimes smacking one spot and moving on or smacking the same spot three or four times before continuing elsewhere. It didn't take long at all before she was shifting uncomfortably over his knee, struggling to keep from yelling out with each spank.

John did his best to block out her yelps as he spanked, determined to give her the spanking she was due, no matter how much noise she made. He kept up the fast pace, intending to make her bottom far redder than it was at that moment, before he'd use the spatula to drive the message home. He held on tight as Rose's shifting began outright squirming as she struggled to move her bottom out of the line of fire. Unfortunately, he held her tightly enough that she wasn't going anywhere.

"John! Ow! Ow! Pleeeeease! John, please! I'll be good!" Rose pleaded. Her breath was beginning to hitch, indicating she was close to tears, but still he kept spanking her. She was certain he'd never stop, finally breaking down in tears when the heat and sting became completely unbearable.

He paused, deciding to give her a short break before moving on to the spatula. "I know you'll be good," John soothed, rubbing her back. "I know you'll think twice before you do something so silly again or disobey me again, won't you?"

She nodded her agreement that oh yes, she would very much think twice about it! One hand went back to shield her cheeks while she pleaded with him once more.

"No, we're not quite finished. Almost, but not quite," John told her sadly. He'd love to stop and cuddle her close to dry her tears. Yet he knew that he wouldn't accomplish anything if he ended it prematurely. "Take a couple deep breaths."

As Rose did some deep breathing, John caught her hand and held it to the small of her back before tugging her panties down to her knees. Her crying reached new volumes as he did so and his resolve almost broke. He forced himself to think once more of Rose's head hitting the table and then bouncing off the ground. With that in mind, he picked up the spatula and began snapping it down on her reddened cheeks.

Her squirming began once more and she even kicked her legs now in response to the sting. Who would have thought it would be so effective? Rose howled and cried while he spanked her quite soundly with the kitchen utensil. John mentally counted out thirty hearty smacks and then dropped the spatula on the floor. Her bum was practically scarlet, from crest to sit spots, and John winced in sympathy.

"Alright, it's all done now," John said, hoping she could hear him over her tears. Now that he was done punishing her, it was time to comfort her. "You were so brave sweetheart, so brave," he praised, rubbing her back. "I'm so proud of you. I know that was as nasty one, but you did so well."

Taking great care not to further irritate her well spanked backside, he eased her panties and pajama bottoms back up before helping her up from his lap. Rose was still crying rather hard and immediately began to rub her sore cheeks once she was on her feet. Deciding they were far too sore for rubbing to do much good, she leaned against John, pressing her face against his shoulder as she continued to cry.

If he thought he felt badly last time, when it had been a simple smacking over her panties, John really felt like a heel now. Knowing that she had most definitely deserved this spanking didn't make her tears any easier to hear. "Alright love, let's have some cuddles," he decided.

With little thought for his shoulder, John picked Rose up and carried her into Sherlock's bedroom, intending to cuddle her as he had last time. Leaning back against the headboard, he settled Rose against him, hugging her tightly.

Snuggled as close as she possibly could, Rose continued to cry as she soaked up the cuddles. "Shhh, shhh, it'll be alright," John assured her. "You were such a good girl. I know that was hard, but you were so brave. I'm so proud of you, love. So very proud. I know you're a good girl. Deep breaths now, come on. You're going to sick up if you don't stop crying, love," he pointed out.

Rose took several deep breaths, calming herself as John continued to cuddle her tight. "There you go, that's my girl. Good job. Take a few more now," he encouraged. "Alright, you're okay. We're done, I promise." He began stroking her hair, feeling incredibly relieved when she stopped crying. Taking a handkerchief out, he began drying her face.

"You look so sleepy," John chuckled. "Wore yourself right out."

"Ow," Rose whimpered. "It really hurts."

He kissed the top of her head. "I know, love. I'll give you some arnica cream again later on. Right now, just close your eyes and try to sleep."

"Don't go," she said firmly. "Please don't go, please don't stop."

"Stop cuddling you? Not a chance. I'm staying right here," he promised. John began humming quietly, stroking her hair once more. It was no surprise she was so tired. Her body was still catching up on sleep and she'd expended a lot of energy during that spanking! Before long, he could tell she was fast asleep, though he stayed with her for a while longer.

Once he was entirely certain she was asleep and wouldn't wake up for a while, John eased himself off the bed and tucked Rose in before leaving her to sleep. There were plenty of hours left in the day for writing lines. For now, she needed her sleep.