Repens

Her eyes opened before his mobile alarm sounded, ending this most human of moments. She studied him as he slept, her head propped up by her elbow. His elegant curls framed his forehead as innocent as they pleased. The lines between his nose and the corners of his mouth were perfectly straight. His eyelashes were surly the envy of every woman that had ever been close enough to notice them, thick and perfectly curled up. So rugged, yet majestic, was this face that had seen horrors most others couldn't fathom. This was the face that was sure to see a different sort of terrifying. It was only a matter of days until something happened.

And when it did, would she be prepared? Would he be prepared? In her mind, she had already formed a fraction of her plan: what she would say if certain questions were asked, placed in London she could hide if she escaped, and physical methods to keep from passing (especially when being beaten). But first, there was something important she needed to do. Now was the time to do it, while he was asleep.

She took special care in not waking him when she reached over to grab his phone. His breathing slightly changed but not enough to worry here. Her fingers vigorously tapped on the screen- she knew exactly what she was doing. He began to stir just as she put the device exactly as she had found it. Steph returned to the position she had been while admiring him and pretended to do so. When those bright blue-green eyes fluttered open, she didn't even attempt to contain the large adoring grin.

"How long have you been up?" he whispered with a cracking voice. If there had been more room in the bed he would have made a pass at her. It wasn't possible for someone to look so desirable just after waking- her hair all a mess and face still pale in the morning light.

"Only a few minutes."

"What were you doing with my phone?" he smirked, already pleased at himself for the morning.

"Checking the time, darling." The contentment in her voice was driving him all the more mad.

"I highly doubt that." His hands wiped at his eyes and over his neck. She took in his every movement for a reason she didn't even understand. "I have that case this morning. Shouldn't be too long. Can you manage staying out of trouble for a couple of hours?"

"I'm not quite sure. It is getting terribly boring around here. I'm a creature most happy when busy and the last few days have been anything but."

"Wouldn't say that. The single time you ventured out, you caused a little stir in Westminster- as I recall."

"That was nothing. No harm done. She got a new blouse and we got away undetected."

"The next time I can promise it won't be thugs or brutes after you. The brains of the operation is about to be revealed."

"Let's not ruin the morning talking about it, yeah?" She kissed his cheek in the innocent manner he seemed to appreciate first thing of a morning. A small gesture that reminded him that he wasn't alone when feeling these moments of sentiment.

In that moment, she knew that this was the calm before the storm. The last few minutes before everything changed. She could feel it from her turning stomach to her racing mind. Her door opened, tearing her from her thoughts. There was just enough time for them to pull the blanket over their chests and wait for the scream.

"Sorry!" she yelled the second she saw them. Mrs. Hudson was in the doorway just long enough for the lovers to see her face turn bright red. The woman gasped before slamming the door shut, mumbling a few curse words and opinionated statements.

Stephanie quietly giggled into her blushing boyfriend's shoulder, placing a small kiss on his skin before releasing an amused sigh.

"That will never get old," she mused.

His eyes changed, growing with that familiar intensity she had begun to crave. Without speaking a single syllable, he came in for the first tender kiss of the day. She allowed one then sweetly reminded him of his case. Pushing a turned-on Sherlock out of bed was always a chore. He wanted it. She wanted it. Yet this wasn't the proper morning for such activities. Not to mention this wasn't the proper place. They had promised to keep all serious snogging upstairs.

They left the downstairs flat, apologizing to her aunt before walking out, and began their morning routine. John was just getting out of bed himself from the looks of it. The unexpected happened when a pretty female came shuffling down the hall.

"Good morning," Steph nearly laughed in amazement.

"Hello?" The blonde stranger did a double take towards Steph and then shot John a questioning glare. He only smiled in response. "And you are?"

"Oh, I'm Cassidy, Sherlock's girlfriend." It was too exaggerated to be genuine but the new girl was the didn't know that.
John's date was slightly aggravated when the two men let out hearty chuckles, avoiding all eye contact. The overly friendly redhead held out her hand for a shake but was ignored. Not that she cared. If the woman couldn't take a joke, John needed to know that now rather than later.

"Where do you sing?" Sherlock asked while putting the kettle on.

"I asked you not to tell anyone," the woman whispered to John in a cross manner.

"He didn't," Stephanie sighed. "We can just tell."

"How?" The confused blonde asked, calling their bluff.

"Well, there is your manicure- very popular with trendy vocalists," Steph replied, preparing toast and eggs.

"Please don't," John moaned.

"Then there is your alternative rock haircut, chopped in all different lengths," Sherlock added while setting up the table for three. John covered his face with a trembling hand.

"Oh, and the hole in your eyebrow. You have a piercing there but haven't used it since your glory days. Good decision. A bit juvenile for someone your age. Don't want to be trying too hard."

"That's enough. You've had your fun," John giggled nervously.

"Let's not ignore the style of her trousers. Those are older as well. It's a small achievement to still fit in them. They are at least, what, seven years old? Perhaps your favorite from your days bussing tables."

"And, no offense, the cover-up screams performer. Too bold, thick, and cheap- most of it probably rubbed off on the pillowcase last night."

The stunned woman stood there for a moment, eyes wide and face flushed. Four seconds later, she opened her mouth to say something, wanting to argue about the facts of her past. It took another six seconds for her to storm out of the room.

"That was completely uncalled for," Watson hissed, not used to staring down two giddy faces.

"We were only having a bit of fun. I've been cooped up for days," Steph sighed as a teenager being lectured by their parent.

"Yes, and I wasn't about to let Cassidy have all the fun," Sherlock whined before giving his girl a small wink. "Funny, by the way."

"Thank. You!" she sang, caring the plates of food to the table.

"Only three plates?" John asked, wondering why his friends were being so careless. There was obviously four of them about to eat.

"Three. Two. One." Steph quietly counted, almost to herself.

"Three, two, one?" John repeated, clearly missing something.

The unsuccessful singer returned with her purse, wearing her jacket, hair put up in a messy bun, and carrying one of John's pillows. Sherlock and Steph pretended to be busy as John walked up to the livid creature.

"Alexa, please," he began.

"You wanted me to meet your friends ay? Why?! So they could laugh at me?"

"It's really not like that. If you would just let me explain."

"No, John. I think it's time for me to leave." She threw the make-up stained pillow at his face then slammed the door behind her.

He turned around to see Sherlock and Stephanie with expressions only half as guilty as they should have been.

After a quick shrug, the sassy redhead said in a small voice, "Three plates."

Breakfast that morning was silent but the two genius constantly sent little grins across the table. Everyone threw the dishes into the sink and the men gathered their jackets. Sherlock was first to return. He picked up the pillow and grinned at the black and deep purple stains and smears across the pillowcase.

"Good call on the pillow," Sherlock almost laughed.

"We probably shouldn't have done that," his girlfriend giggled with slight remorse.

"No. He didn't like her all that much anyway."

"How could you tell?"

"They had take-away last night. If he thinks there is a future, he at least takes her to the Chinese place down the street."

"I see," she sighed, wondering what his reaction would be if she asked him to stay home for the day.

"Alright, ready," John hissed, upset but still accompanying his flat mate on the morning's case.

"See you later then," Steph smiled, standing on tip-toes to kiss her handsome boyfriend.

"Stay put," he reminded her. When she rolled her eyes, obviously despising his orders, he added, "Wait up. I want to pick up where we left off earlier."

"Oh, that's just great!" John moaned in disgust. "You run my girlfriend off and then talk all mushy to yours right in front of me. Bloody fantastic."

"You didn't like her all that much anyway," Steph commented in a carefree but concerned voice.

"Oh?" John was ready to scream.

"You could have his at least took her to the Chinese down the street."

"I quit!" he muttered as he walked out of the flat. "I'll get the cab. You have one minute, Holmes."

"He must be upset," Sherlock teasingly noted. "He never calls me that."

"Go," she sweetly ordered. "And find some way to make up for his loss. Be a bit more kind today."

It was Sherlock's turn to roll his eyes. They shared one last kiss, a tender one that neither wanted to end. Then he gently moved a strand of her hair behind her ear. Another moment then he was gone. And she was alone. The flat was silent.

She looked around, wondering what she could possibly do to waste a few hours. Then she heard her text tone. Hoping it was him texting something sweet, she ran to his bedroom- where she had left her mobile. Once glance was all it took to make her light headed. From a blocked private number was sent:

THEY HAVE LEFT YOU FOR THE DAY. LAST CHANCE, THOMAS.

"So it begins."