Repens

When she opened her eyes the next morning, she was surprised to find Sherlock sitting beside the bed with a breakfast tray placed on his nightstand. How long had he been staring at her, watching her sleep? She was a bit embarrassed at first but then took it as a great compliment.

"What's all this about?" she sweetly asked in a crackling morning voice.

"Just wanted to do something nice for you," he grinned.

"Being romantic and we aren't even naked?"

"It's an experiment," teased the beautiful man.

"Sentiment?"

"Something of the sort."

Stephanie moved over and patted his side of the bed, beckoning him to join her. He did as asked and sat on top of the covers. This was how he loved her- not quite awake and hair all a mess.

Sherlock carefully moved the tray from the nightstand to her lap. It was a pretty sight. The food was all bachelor breakfast food, everything microwaved or toasted, but it was the thought that counted.
She took a bite of toast before asking, "So what happens on Saturdays?"

"Well," he began, placing a hand behind her neck and rubbing it. "This Saturday is a bit special."

"You have 'special' days? I didn't think the word was in your impeccable vocabulary," she giggled teasingly.

"This is the first Saturday of my life that I have a particular obligation," he confessed.
"Oh? And what is this obligation?"

"I have certain gentlemanly duties today."

"I see," she laughed, scrapping jam off her toast to lick it from her finger. "And what do these duties entail?"

"Anything you want!" he proudly proclaimed. "Money and time are of no concern- though I do need to be back by this time tomorrow. You've been cooped up all week and I'm sure your gasping for some air and exercise."

"You have no idea," she sighed, feeling like a bird being released from its cage. "So where shall we go?"

"Your choice."

"Well," she pondered for a moment. "Would a day of tourist attractions be too much to ask?"

At first he rolled his eyes. But then he remembered that London was still new to her. He knew every backstreet and alley of this city and she only visited once a decade or so.

"For you," he paused for affect. "Of course."

She nearly sent the tray's contents to the floor with delight. The excited beauty threw her arms around the man who was wrapped around her finger. For the next several minutes, she listed a number of places they could go and took a bite between ideas. She grew silent after noticing his misty eyed stare. This was a rare expression on him and it almost worried her.

"What is it? You're thinking about something," she asked while putting the empty tray at the foot of the bed.

"Just remembering something," he sighed in a way she had never heard him do so before.

"Tell me." The girl rested her head on his shoulder and took his hand.

"It's nothing." Sherlock glanced down at his watch just to be doing something, to fidget. The moment he saw her large pleading curious eyes, he knew he had to share. "I don't have many good memories about my parents. Mycroft and I probably ruined any chances of a happy marriage they had. But I remember one Saturday perfectly clear. Mycroft had just moved out the week before so my parents didn't have to worry about us bickering all day. Father made her breakfast that morning and brought her a tray with a red rose. The gesture was mesmerizing to me. He didn't usually do things like that so when he did, I noticed every last detail. I followed him to their bedroom door, sneaking around so they didn't see me. He kissed her until she woke up and then handed her the tray. Father usually had work on Saturdays but that day the two of them left around noon and didn't return until about two the next morning. I waited up from sheer curiosity. They made love that night and I never understood that day until this morning."

Steph kissed his hand and then traced his face with her free digits.

"That was beautiful."

"Sentiment doesn't suit me," he admitted with a blush.

"Let's go, Mr. Holmes," she said with an adoring smirk. "The day is ours."

They snuck off without telling John or Mrs. Hudson. He showed her museums, they went to parks, she did a small amount of shopping, and they got to know more about eachother's childhood. Today seemed the appropriate day to do so. But every once and a while, one would catch the other staring elsewhere. Since the relationship business was so new to both of them, neither made a fuss over the few moments of diverted attention.

Sherlock took her to his parents' favorite date restaurant- the one he always imagined them going on that Saturday. It was a dim atmosphere and the table had a single lit candle. The flame flickered and danced through their wine glasses. At one point, they even found eachother holding hands over the table- a foolish action neither ever saw themselves doing. It was one more action on their growing list of romantic firsts.

When the sun began to set, both felt satisfied with the day. He hailed a taxi and they both climbed in with the most pleasant of expressions. When the cab started, she crossed her leg before grabbing his arm and leaning in extremely close to him. His eyes turned to her without moving his head the least bit. Suddenly, a quick pulsing sensation grew in his ears and it became harder to breath. Surly she wasn’t doing what he thought she was- a little drunk perhaps.

His prediction was correct as she whispered directly into his ear, “Have you ever done anything in the backseat of a cab before, Mr. Holmes?”

Words were almost impossible to form but he managed a quick and uncomfortable, “I’ve hardly felt the urge to do anything of the sort.”

She moved a bit closer and gently ran her tongue just below his jawline. Calm pale eyes slammed shut as he tried to remain calm. His composure was kept until she sharply drew a deep breath, making the wet skin tickle. The urges he had just mentioned were suddenly heightened. Every muscle in his body tightened as he opened his eyes to look at her with an undeniably shocked expression on his face.

Before he could utter a word or even look into her eyes, she pressed her mouth to his and grabbed onto the back of his head, gently pulling at the long curls draping over his neck. It wasn’t a long kiss but it was passionate and certainly sent his head spinning. He kissed her back suddenly enjoying this public display of affection. While this had always been frowned upon by brilliant intellectuals, himself included, he was beginning to understand why couples did it. Not only was there a sense of rebellion and not caring what those around thought-a feeling he loved dearly-but her boldness in letting him know that she wanted him gave him a completely different rush all together.

She skillfully moved her crossed leg over until it rested across his lap, her body suddenly twisted in his arms. Sherlock released one almost inaudible moan of pleasure and then she ended the kiss. Stephanie gave his bottom lip a small tug before leaving him unsatisfied. Her leg returned to its former position crossed over her other thigh and she sat up straight with a playful smile. Those bright eyes faced forward and her expression looked as if nothing had just happened.

It took a while for Sherlock to silently catch his breath. Once he could speak, he looked over to her and opened his mouth, some sarcastic or witty comment she guessed.

“Here,” the blushing young cabby announced.

Sherlock turned his gaze from her only until he paid the cabby and got out of the cab. Steph stepped out in casual movements, still as if nothing out of the usual had just taken place. The door closed and the car drove away when the two made their way to the front door of 221 B Baker Street. He walked backwards, staring at her while still in shock, and she pushed him aside to unlock the door.

Once she opened the door and took a single step inside, Sherlock grabbed her by the waste and spun her around saying, “I have got to get you upstairs.”

She finally smiled just before he picked her up and carried her upstairs. They stared at eachother with building anticipation until he opened the door to their flat. The moment the door was cracked, the two lovers began deep short urgent kisses. Sherlock kicked the door shut while glancing over at the hall, to make sure he didn’t bump into anything on the way to his bedroom.

A loud cough came from the living room desk as the two both stopped to look up.

“Afternoon,” a red faced John nervously greeted.

“John!” Stephanie gasped as Sherlock placed her onto the ground quite embarrassed. She caught her balance and stood a step away from her slightly embarrassed boyfriend.

“Yes, hello,” the almost laughing roommate giggled.

“I thought you were out today, meeting an old friend,” Sherlock stated, trying to sound as normal as possible while pulling on his suit.

“That was this morning,” John replied, trying to hide a smile.

“I better check on my aunt,” Steph declared with a disappointed grin.

Sherlock reached for her hand with a pleading look in his eyes. Even if they couldn’t run off to his room he still wanted her around to brighten up the usually dreary flat. She just lit up the room wherever she went and it distracted him when he knew she was downstairs, so close yet so far away from him.

“I’ll see you later I’m sure,” she winked, obviously not wanting to leave. The young woman turned to John with a friendly smile and said, “See you later!”

After one last glance at Sherlock, she was nothing but fading footsteps on the staircase. Each man took a deep breath and the room fell quiet for a while. Sherlock found his violin and nervously cleaned it while John tapped on the keyboard of his laptop. When the silence became unbearable, John let out a small chuckle.

“That looks like it’s going well.” He smiled at his friend waiting for a response that didn’t come. “The two of you make a lovely couple, Sherlock. She’s perfect for you.”

The genius stared outside thoughtfully for a while before admitting, “I just don’t want to break her heart.”

“Then don’t,” John instantly replied, as if it was as obvious and simple as that.

“I just can’t help feeling that something is going to happen. Something very large and complex,” he continued softly as if it was a fact.

“Everyone feels like that the first few weeks of a relationship,” the friend tried being optimistic.
A troubled look suddenly filled Sherlock’s face as he frowned, “I didn’t mean with us directly. We were being followed all day.”

John’s expression went from his usual carefree grin to a pale questioning stare.

“Is it him?” he asked, dreading what was possibly to come- for a second time.

“I don’t know,” Sherlock sighed, having said the despised phrase rarely uttered from his lips.