Repens

The next morning, Mrs. Hudson forced Steph to call her parents and briefly explain the dreadful incident. Steph was brave and remained collected the entire time, Sherlock sitting at her side. At one point she even grabbed his hand, his hand in hers giving her the strength to not follow her instincts to abruptly end the call. She loathed talking to her parents about negative or dangerous happenings so this was torture. All was well, what was the point in telling them horrifying details that no longer mattered? Twenty minutes after the call began, she told them that she wouldn't be on her flight- the one that left in just a few hours. It was too soon and she needed to rest for at least a day or two. To her grief, they demanded that she return the following day. Stephanie Thomas had one night left on Baker Street. She had one night left with him.

Mrs. Hudson kept Stephanie down in her flat, filling her body with warm tea and good meals, from the minute the girl entered her flat for a morning hug. Sherlock joined her, never leaving her side. They stomached through Mrs. Hudson's repulsive morning telly shows. The two stole a few heated kisses when the old woman would use the loo or leave the room in search of something. One time the pair even snuck into the guest bedroom to get a taste of what they had done the night before- those four minutes left them hungry for more. Night could not come soon enough.

The kind old thing asked no questions about her niece's disappearance but instead savored the few remaining hours they had together. The three talked, joked, and teased until a sheepish John entered. Stephanie immediately hid her building giggles, now understanding where the good doctor had been last night.

"Ah, there you are, John," Sherlock greeted his best friend, more than a single motive causing his unusually cheery tone. "Have a good night?"

"Yes, very nice. Thank you," the soldier replied, wanting rid of the subject as quickly as possible.
Morning became noon, the four gathered at Mrs. Hudson's kitchen for a celebration lunch of one of Stephanie's favorite dishes. John ran some errands while Sherlock and Stephanie tried to persuade the worried aunt that it was fine for them to go out in public- Steph was gasping for fresh air. But the stubborn land lady would hear nothing of it. This made for a very long day in 221 A. When night finally fell over London, the lovers returned upstairs.

Tender mischievous glances began directly after Mrs. Hudson's door closed and locked. They silently kissed and held in their sounds of bliss until they were at his door. Sherlock went in first then pulled his woman into a snog that lasted the entire way to his bedroom. His shirt fell somewhere in the hall and her jeans fell as the room's door closed.

To their amazement, it was just as new and breathtaking as it had been the previous night. Each had a better understanding of how to please the other and their pace was more controlled. Their release was as wonderful and blinding as they had remembered the several times the act replayed in their minds. Luckily, the finished just minutes before John returned. The two cuddled in silence, placing soft kisses on eachother's skin, each in their own thoughts. There was no need to talk, not right now. It had been a long couple of days and neither had time to fully process the details as they were accustomed to doing. It was a silent agreement of time to think that was greatly appreciated by both.

Around midnight, Sherlock was sitting up in bed as she laid in his lap staring up at him. The moment her eyes slowly moved away from his and towards the ceiling he had to make a conscious effort not to worry. With everything she had been through, she had every right to have her private thoughts and be lost in her own world. His fingers were running through her bangs, the same gentle motion repeated, for the past silent hour. This time last night, they were just starting the kisses that turned into the soul binding act of love.

In just a few short hours, she'd be on her way back to her parents' home. She'd be gone just like that. Stephanie Thomas had come into his life like a storm and had changed everything he had ever known. She'd changed him. He couldn't imagine his life without her part of it each and every day. Was this partly why people got married? So they wouldn't have to be apart and forever labeled merely exclusive? Until this beautiful clever girl, the thought of a Mrs. Holmes had never even crossed his mind- ever. It wasn’t even a possibility.

What was going through her mind? What thoughts of such difficult matters were there to hide behind her practiced expression of total calm? Her face appeared relaxed but her nervous heart beats assured him she was far from content. Was tomorrow the end of their short-lived romance?

Had the events of this week ripped the seams of the determination and hopes from their passionate beginning? Even after they had made sweet precious love, he couldn't shake the thought of this being the end. What sane intelligent woman would want this sort of ridiculous life with him, the clever sociopath who still didn't understand so many simple aspects of life itself? He was beginning to go mad from thoughts of love and the near future. There was no deep breath of warning before he spoke.

''It would mean a lot to me if you'd think aloud. No matter what you're thinking. Please?"
Sherlock's request was soft spoken, the concern hidden behind pure love in his tone, and the mixture of genuine curiosity and love nearly overwhelmed her. For the first time in a while, her stare returned to his, a small brief grin forming. Stephanie moved until she was sitting in his lap, straddling him chest to chest. After her arms wrapped around his neck she paused, their stare more intense than before.

"I couldn't possibly leave tomorrow," she whispered, a hint of fear in her voice and eyes. By his wide-eyed reaction it was obvious she had just voiced something entirely unexpected. He probably didn't even know what to think, much less what to say. "I'm telling them tomorrow that I'm staying with you the rest of summer, here in London. I don't care what the consequences are. Let another Jim Moriarty try to bring us apart; tell all the other villainous idiots to give it all they've got. I'm not leaving."

"Steph, listen to yourself," he calmly began, the logical and emotional parts of his brain at war. So this was love.

"My summer has just begun-"

"And you've been in danger since your first night here, kidnapped twice, beaten multiple times, and almost killed God only knows how many times. The answer is no." The crack in his stern voice deceived him, revealing his true feelings on the matter.

She placed a small hand on his chest, feeling each pulse of his fiercely beating heart. He was terrified for her. A repeat of the last few days would be the worst thing for them both. But that was the risk she was more than willing to take to be with him, the man that would forever be her soulmate- if such a thing truly existed.

"I was just a strange clever girl before you. Then you made me the brave spirited dreamer I've always longed to be. You've made me better in just two weeks, Sherlock. I'm not leaving while we are just beginning. I want to be with you, even if it means we are physically apart more hours of a day than we are together. It would be a distraction but I can find a summer job, do my own thing, whatever it takes to find a medium that keeps or lives combined."

"Steph," he whispered, her pleading was like a knife to his newfound heart. His shaking hands moved to her back, as if he was about to pull her into him.

"I love you," she hopelessly announced. It was just like a scene from a film, one many blokes spent their lives pining for. So passionate, honest, strong willed. So perfect.

Before he could further object, she pressed her lips to his. It wasn't the sort of kiss that turned into making love. Nor was it the type that was meant to manipulate him into giving her what she wanted. This kiss was desperate. Desperate to be where he was. Desperate for more time than the unbelievable fifteen days that had changed their lives forever. Desperate for the love they had always secretly dreamt of in fear of it not being real. But it was real and neither wanted life to return to its previous shades of blues and grays.

"You have to go," he choked. It was her turn to be tortured by his expression of despair. "Even if only for a few weeks. Baker Street, all of London, is not safe for you. I won't take another chance of losing you."

"But-"

"No-". The word came out more cross, harsh even, than either had anticipated. He wasn't upset with her but the very thought of finding her tied in another chair literally made him flinch. Putting a hand to her pink face, somewhere between pail from shock and emotionally red, he closed his eyes before whispering, "If you love me…"

"Please don't do that." Her eyes began to tear. "Don't-"

"I'll buy your ticket home in the morning for a flight around noon. The sooner the better. Not because I want rid of you. God knows sending you back home will be the single most difficult thing I've ever done." His hands slid from her cheeks to her neck. Sherlock took a deep breath and put his forehead against hers, now keeping as much eye contact as possible. "Your safety is my first and most important priority now, from now on."

Steph, now silently crying moved herself from his lap. So this was how it was going to be. The stubborn man was more brains than heart after all. She couldn't help questioning if his pushing her away was to let her down easy or if it was genuinely for her protection.

"I just can't help but wonder which of us you're trying to save most," the woman hissed with fierce eyes. "Me or yourself." Her harsh words had worked too well, making Sherlock squirm uncomfortably beside her. "I know you don't want to get hurt and you know where I stand without my explaining."

"Listen very careful to me," the man with sad eyes ordered, his dark voice coming from the painful sting of her words. "If it were me, if I was the one being threatened if I stayed, you would be attempting to do the exact same to me. I'm not pushing you away or trying to talk my way out of this relationship. But, Stephanie, you're clever enough to know the horrors waiting for us if you stay."

"Perhaps no criminal will attempt to come against the duo that finally put Moriarty and his vicious minions to rest."

"It's not that simple," he whispered with regret in his eyes and tone.

Her first instinct was to give him a smart remark then sleep downstairs for the night. But there wasn't the time for one of their witty rows or arguments. In less than twelve hours, she'd be gone. Far away from the one person she had ever felt this way about.

"And if I leave?" She was asking more than the few simple words conveyed but he knew the nature of her question all the same.

His Adam's apple bobbed, eyes dilated, and the vein in his neck twitched- her question difficult to answer. He was about to get sentimental. She prepared herself to hang onto his every word.

"We're still in a relationship. You’re still the only woman I've ever wanted or could ever want." He felt her relax a bit under his hands, now at her waist. "I just hope you don't find someone back at Uni that will change your mind."

After a short soft giggle and a blush that made him grin, Steph promised, "That won't happen." The mischievous smirk he adored appeared before she added, "Well, maybe a handsome brilliant professor of some sort. Someone a bit older." He rolled his eyes, not even attempting to act offended. "You would find yourself with someone new long before I would," she sadly confessed.

"You’re not serious," he half snorted at the absurd idea.

"There was an Irene Adler before me," she half smiled. Sherlock's shocked expression was priceless. "I read something a while back and put it together shortly after we met. Didn't ever find the need to bring it up." He began to protest or explain but she cut him off. "That's not important."

"The only relationship that could compare in importance to ours is the friendship between John and I. And that is something entirely different all together. He has been the only friend I've ever truly relied on and you…" What could he say that would come close to conveying her impact on his life? She had become his life.

"Your first love," she sighed, a heartrending look in her eyes. "And you mine." Stephanie moved back into his arms before whispering, "I just don't want to lose you now that I've found you. Can't imagine not waking next to you after all of this. It will be as if the last two weeks was just a long complex dream."

"Perhaps you could return in late July or August. Lestrade could have everything sorted by then, if he stays dedicated to the task." Probably wishful thinking. James Moriarty's criminal web and secrets would never be fully revealed before next year, if ever. "Take it one week at a time until then?"

"I suppose we have no choice," the brave girl groaned. It was impossible to argue with him once his mind was set on something. Besides, everyone else was ordering her to do the same. Going against one of the few people she loved was difficult enough but staying would be going against every person that mattered most.

Sherlock wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. She memorized the feel of his fingers sliding between her bottom eyelashes and cheeks. If only they could stay in that room forever. Their eyes locked before she suddenly threw her arms tightly around his neck- as if she was fighting a tangible form of Fate trying to pull them apart. He responded by returning her light body onto his lap as she had been before. They held eachother for several silent minutes, each in their own repetitive thoughts. Finally, she loosened her grip around him and searched his sorrowful eyes.

"If this is our last night, then…" With the slightest trace of the sensual smirk from last night, the beauty removed the tank top she had put on before they began cuddling in silence. "We'll need something to get us through the several lonely summer weeks to come."

Sherlock didn't say a word. Nor did he change the lost expression she was trying so hard to clear from his perfect face. It was obvious that he was still fighting with himself over the matter. His words had been definite, his mind seemingly made up. But his emotions had become so strong in the last several days that part of him still questioned sending her away. It was the new part of him that longed for her to be by his side that deepened her already strong love for him.

Just when she began to second guess her lustful suggestion, suddenly feeling slightly slutty and a bit ashamed, he leaned in towards her until she felt his lips just under her ear. Her eyes closed as her chest tightened with unexpected pleasure. The hot breath he inhaled sent a burst of cold shivers through her body.

"Then I'll go slow, to take in every last moment," he breathed against her.

---

When she opened her eyes, she found the light shades of blue and green staring into her. Their noses touched rubbing together as if the passionate kisses had already begun. It was only after she took a shaky breath that his lips moved from her chin down her neck. Steph rolled her head to give him full access to wherever he pleased on the opposite side. His tight grip on her back finally pulled her close to him, her protruding nipples hardening against his cool chest. A soft moan escaped her at the intimate contact of his skin against hers.

Fingers traced their way up his spine to his mop of curls. The moment his tongue lightly traced up the path his caressing lips had just formed, she gently pulled at the longer curls that so elegantly bounced at his neck. Their tender movements were equal in bringing the other waves of pleasure, all will to keep things continuing slowly beginning to fade. He was satisfied by just ravishing her neck and listening to her sharp breaths until she gave a single soft pump of her hips. Then his new instincts returned in a blinding wave of need. How had he controlled his primal desires for so long? Especially around her?

As if holding a newborn in his arms, Sherlock put one hand behind her head and his other at the small of her back. Knowing what he was doing, Steph let him lay her body down onto the bed. Once her torso was spread out before him, he moved her bent legs until he was sitting between them. Her face was completely relaxed yet her heart raced with anticipation. They had done the quick passionate version last night and the urgent session earlier this evening. Now, the idea was to take in every last sensory detail and sustain for as long as possible. In addition to going as long as they could, they also wanted to please the other to the fullest- leaving no chasm or limb unsatisfied.

The desperate lovesick man bent over to place a single wet lingering kiss between her breasts. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath, loving his lips on that particular patch of her silky skin. She felt his thick tongue begin to lap where her soft globes met just before he rolled each nipple between his soft fingers. This time, a soft cry couldn't be helped.

"My love," she gasped between breaths she was still trying to control.

The deep hum he released against her chest left her speechless once more, lost in the sensations he was giving her. His lips moved down to her upper stomach, the sensitive muscles shuddering at his softest touches- the perfect rhythm of his fingers staying persistent. As she fell deeper and deeper into the wonderful hazy state of mind from last night, her hips began to grind against his- slightly harder each time.

"Not yet, my darling." She felt his lips curve into a smile as he breathed the words against her stomach.