A massive thanks to all of my amazing reviewers! You guys certainly are the greatest ever! I always appreciate your thoughts and feedback, so thanks so much for being amazing!

Here's the next one!

It wasn't until around midnight that Kylie and Sherlock walked back into Baker Street carrying four large boxes full of models they had "borrowed" from the University.

Kylie set her two boxes down and looked around at the mess of the flat helplessly. Between the packing boxes Mycroft had saved for her in storage, her suitcases, rubbish from their investigation, and now case files everywhere, she felt like she was helpless. She had so much to do. She sighed and ran a hand through her short waves as her stomach growled. No food all day was catching up with her. She had forgotten what life at Baker Street was like, and knowing him there would be no food at all in the flat.

Add going to the store to the list

At this time of night, everything would be closed. So, that won't get done tonight…

She at least needed to make a dent in this. She wouldn't be able to focus properly until some of it was done anyway.

She felt eyes on her. She looked up and caught Sherlock staring at her curiously. She smiled at him briefly before picking up a box Mycroft had left for her and began to walk up the stairs to John's room… well her room…well the spare room…

She struggled up the stairs, feeling her shoulder pull. She got the top and pressed the door open, stopping in slight surprise to see her bed and old dresser already set up. She smiled; at least Mycroft was good for something. She set the box down and noticed the large closet in the corner.

She hadn't unpacked or been able to get settled, as her life had been quite a whirlwind since she arrived. Knowing Sherlock and his anally organized sock index, she would get hardly any room in the dresser or closet.

Good thing they had two rooms.

Kylie sighed and walked backed down the stairs to find Sherlock examining the models with a magnifying glass once more. She grabbed one of her cases and her box of hangers before making her way back up the stairs.

"What are you doing?" she heard Sherlock say from the living room. Knowing him, he hadn't even bothered to look up and notice she wasn't even in the room anymore.

"Unpacking," Kylie yelled back as she plopped her suitcase on the bed, rubbing her shoulder.

This stupid injury

She rolled her head trying to loosen the compensating muscles of her shoulder before unzipping her suitcase, and beginning to unload the contents. She sorted the clothes and important objects on the bed before she came across her photo album. She smiled as she flipped through the familiar pages, her smile broadening as she saw the faces of the people she loved so much. She flipped through pictures of family and friends over the years, stopping at the last photo of her and Toby outside of her San Diego home.

God, she missed that dog.

Before she came to London, she sadly had to give Toby up. She knew he couldn't live in Baker Street. He was an active dog, who needed a yard to run and play in. Heaven only knew what experiments Sherlock would run on him if he came here. She had been going to give him to Charlie, but when he had decided to come to London as well, she obviously couldn't anymore. She had been trying to get ahold of her father or Abby to take him, when the little girl next store had come home from school and asked if she could play with him. Rose was about six and the only child of two loving, wonderful parents Kylie had befriended during her time in San Diego. Toby and the little girl adored each other, so leaving him with Rose and her family had been a no brainer. That dog would be loved and cared for, and that was what mattered… no matter how selfishly she wanted him here in London with her.

Kylie sighed as she removed that picture, finding a frame in one of the boxes and placing it in, smiling as she set the frame up on the nightstand before she set to sorting out the suitcase.

She continued to sort and hang up her clothes, reflecting on her life in the last 48 hours.

It was almost surreal to her at the moment. She was back in London, solving cases with a great job and a wonderful man at her side. It had all happened so quickly it seemed like a dream. Her mind drifted back to that first night back in London, unable to help the smile coming over her face. It had been absolutely wonderful. She had been frightened for a long time about what her first time after her assault would be like. Thomas had been her first and only before Sherlock, and that hadn't ended well for her. Yet with Sherlock, concerns that she had had when she was with Thomas hadn't even come to mind. She had been fearful of flashbacks, yet none had come… she couldn't help but feel safe and loved in Sherlock's arms, pushing the memories of Thomas farther and farther away.

She sighed as she put the last of the clothes away, zipping up the suitcase and putting it under the bed before making to walk back down the stairs to gather her other case, jumping slightly as she turned to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, staring at her with slight confusion.

She paused, raising an eyebrow at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked her.

"I'm unpacking," she responded with slight amusement, "There isn't enough room in your closet, so I figured Id put them in here."

Sherlock's eyes wandered around the room, taking in every detail, before landing back on Kylie.

Kylie narrowed her eyes, trying to read the man.

Why was he being awkward again?

"Is that okay?" she asked, "or would you prefer something else?"

Sherlock shook his head slightly, "Fine."

Kylie raised an eyebrow at him before walking over and putting her arms around him and kissing his lips softly.

"You sure about that?" she asked as she pulled away only slightly.

"I'm always sure," Sherlock responded as he recaptured her lips once more.

Kylie smirked into his lips as she pulled back "Uh-huh," she muttered to him as she gave him one last peck before pulling away and walking past him down the stairs to get her other case.

Sherlock just stood there, trying to figure out what was going on with him. He wasn't slow or thick by any stretch, but why on earth did this woman draw out emotions and confusion he never thought were possible.

He heard banging up the staircase before a large crash and yelp.

Sherlock rushed to the top of the staircase, seeing Kylie lifting up the dropped suitcase with a wince and a tilt. He knew immediately it was her shoulder, and kicked himself. Why on earth hadn't he done it for her? It had only been two and a half weeks since she had been stabbed.

He cursed under his breath quietly as he rushed down the stairs and snatched the heavy case out of her hand, lugging it down to the bottom.

"Sherlock! What are you doing? I have to unpack," Kylie objected.

"What did you do to it?" Sherlock asked her.

"Do to what?" Kylie responded.

"Shoulder, what did you do to your shoulder?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Kylie told him as he approached her, "I just dropped the case. My gripped slipped."

He reached out to touch her shoulder, causing her to flinch no matter how hard she tried to brush it off, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her.

Kylie held eye contact with him for a moment before she sighed, "Fine, I did something, but it will be fine."

"Let me look," Sherlock asked her.

Kylie smirked and raised an eyebrow, unable to help herself, "Are you just trying to get me to take my clothes off," she joked as Sherlock frowned at her, seeing the pain in her eyes.

Sherlock just stared at her, "No, I just want to take a look at your shoulder."

Kylie rolled her eyes, trying not to show the pain on her face.

"Its fine," she told him.

Sherlock just stared at her.

"You aren't going to let this go, are you?" Kylie asked.

…

"Fine," Kylie griped, knowing he wasn't going to give up. She made to take off her jacket and yelped slightly as the jacket pulled her shoulder in an extremely uncomfortable way.

Sherlock flinched at her pain as he dove to try to help her, leaving her in her t-shirt. He began to slowly lift it up, trying to be sure not to hurt her anymore. Once the shirt was successfully off, he drew in a sharp breath at her shoulder. It was bright red, swollen and hot. The scar on her shoulder looked angry and red as the damage was quickly spreading.

"Come on," Sherlock said as he grabbed her shirt and coat before walking into the kitchen, coming back into the room with a bag of well…. Something.

"Put this on your shoulder," Sherlock told her as he handed her the bag, "You need to reduce the inflammation."

Kylie took the bag suspiciously as she watched him pick up his phone and went into their room.

Kylie frowned before she looked down at the bag he had handed her, horrified; yet not surprised.

"Are these human fingers?" Kylie asked him as he walked out holding a tank top and her father's sweatshirt.

"It was for an experiment," Sherlock shrugged, "Hold it to your shoulder, will you?"

Kylie stared at him in disbelief, "Sherlock, I am not icing my shoulder with a bag of frozen human fingers. Seriously, we have a bag of fingers, but not ice?"

Sherlock tolled his eyes at her before taking the bag of fingers from her and setting them on the table and turning to her with the shirt.

"I'll just put on the sweatshirt on," Kylie told him, "It's more comfortable."

"I'm not letting John see you in just that," Sherlock told her, referencing the bra she was currently standing in.

"John?" Kylie asked in confusion.

John and Charlie had gone their separate ways after the University. Charlie was staying in a hotel near the Yard, while John had returned to his and Mary's place.

"Yes," Sherlock told her, staring at her as if she had hit her head, "John is a doctor now, isn't he?'

"I'm fine, Sherlock! I don't need to see a doctor, or John. All I need is a little rest, which I will do once I clean this place up a bit and finish unpacking."

Kylie stubbornly got up, making to grab a box and yelping in pain, trying to hide it as best as she could.

Sherlock snatched the box away from her, thoroughly irritated with the woman.

"You are hurt. You need to be examined by a doctor. Now please, can you put this shirt on so we can go see John?"

"Sherlock, you are over reacting…"

'PLEASE?!"

Kylie looked at him, taken aback. For the first time ever, she saw Sherlock freaking out slightly. She could tell he was worried about her, and as much as her shoulder hurt, she really didn't want to go see John, who would lecture her, then lecture Sherlock, which would annoy Sherlock, and then Sherlock would be pissy for the next three days… that and she didn't want to wear a sling.

However, as stubborn as she was, she felt herself crumbling.

"Okay," she agreed quietly as she grabbed the tank top from him.

She noticed his body sag slightly with relief as he gently helped her dress and dragging her out of the flat into the cold London night.

*$() # _)(# _)

"WHAT IN THE HELL?" they heard John say from the other side of the door as Sherlock pounded loudly on it.

Kylie chuckled slightly as they heard a crash and then a lot of swearing coming from John before he opened the door, wild eyed and angry with his hair a mess, dressed in his bathrobe.

"Sherlock?" John asked as he stared at his friend in slight disbelief, yet not surprised at the same time. He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, "Do you realize what time it is?"

"Yes," Sherlock said bluntly as he pushed inside the flat, "Kylie is hurt. I texted you."

John watched him walk in, as his face became completely void of anger as he turned to Kylie with concern.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "I'm fine, John. I just need some ice."

"She's not fine," Sherlock told John pointedly as he began to wander around the flat, not so subtly snooping.

"What happened?" John inquired as Mary came out of the bedroom, pulling on her robe.

"What's going on?" she asked as she saw John ushering Kylie into the flat.

"Sherlock is over-reacting," Kylie told her as Mary walked up to hug her.

The moment Mary's body touched her shoulder; Kylie flinched and tried not to yelp.

Mary leapt back and looked at her friend in alarm.

"Am I 'over-reacting'?" Sherlock asked her sarcastically.

Kylie glared as Mary gaped at her.

"Are you okay?"

"She hurt herself being an idiot," Sherlock informed her.

"Yes, because unpacking and cleaning the flat is, idiotic, as you say," Kylie retorted.

"Its, too late for this," John stated, "I'm going to take a guess its your shoulder bothering you?" John asked her.

"I'm fine. I'll live," Kylie told everyone, earning a loud sigh from Sherlock.

"Okay, lets take a look then," John told her as he walked over and began to help Kylie remover her sweatshirt.

"Jesus!" Mary exclaimed when she caught sight of it, "You did this unpacking?"

"Kylie, were you lugging the cases and boxes around?" John asked in a severely father-like tone.

Kylie just stared at him, knowing the lecture that was coming.

"You were stabbed two and a half weeks ago!" John began to lecture, causing both Kylie and Sherlock to roll their eyes, while John continued to examine her shoulder; prodding it and trying to maneuver the shoulder as best he could without hurting her.

"You definitely did some damage," he announced after he finished his exam, "a lot of damage actually to the repairing tissue…" John stopped suddenly and stared at her in disbelief, "You're supposed to be in your sling, aren't you?"

Kylie just avoided the gaze of everyone in the room.

"Unbelievable," Sherlock muttered in a furious tone.

Kylie rolled her eyes, "Like you would still be in it."

"I wasn't stabbed in the shoulder," Sherlock countered.

Kylie sighed in annoyance, fighting not to roll her eyes once more.

"Okay," John told her, "you need to ice it… a lot," he told her pointedly. "And rest, which means a sling. I will know if you took it off, and if you do, I'll stitch it to your arm. I'll look at it again tomorrow. You'll need a scan and maybe surgery, but let's hope not. Oh, and don't lift anything…"

Kylie made a face at John's snide remark as he turned and got his medical bag out of the closet.

He fiddled with the bag pulling out a new syringe and a bottle.

"I'm going to give you something for the pain," John told her as he filled the syringe, "You aren't allergic to anything, correct?"

"Just being nagged," Kylie said sarcastically, "But seriously, I don't need meds. I'm fine."

"You aren't," Mary said as she brought in an ice pack and a sling.

"Seriously?" Kylie protested, "You two just have slings laying around the house?"

"Because we are friends with you and him," Mary joked nudging her head at Sherlock, "That, and we both have medical degrees."

Kylie looked up at her friend who just smiled at her as she helped her put her sweatshirt back on, before placing the ice pack under her sweat shirt and wrapping it with what seemed like saran wrap before placing the swing on, immobilizing it properly.

John knelt down in front of her once Mary was finished and pushed up Kylie's sleeve, wiping it with alcohol.

"I don't need pain meds, John," Kylie told him earnestly.

"I can see the pain on your face, I can tell your blood pressure and heart rate are raised as well. You need them," he told her as he inserted the needle and gave her the dose.

Kylie felt the drugs take effect as soon as it entered her blood stream.

John handed Kylie the gauze to clot the site before getting up and grabbing another bottle out of his bag, walking over to Sherlock and handing it to him discretely.

"Look," John told him in a low voice as Mary spoke to Kylie, "She's going to be in a lot of pain and will probably have trouble sleeping. I'll come by and check on her tomorrow, but if she cant sleep tonight, just slip a quarter of this into her tea, no more."

Sherlock nodded in thanks at his friend as he pocketed the vile, walking over to Kylie and attempting to help her up, only to have her knees buckle beneath her as if her muscles had decided not to work. Sherlock caught her with a strong arm around her waist before she was able to fall too far.

Kylie looked over at him as she began to gain stability, smiling as if she hadn't seen him in year. Sherlock frowned at this odd behavior, noting her eyes seemed glossy, and her pupils were the size of saucers.

"Hheeeyy!" Kylie slurred to him.

"Oh God," Mary laughed, "Apparently she does have a reaction to pain meds."

"You smell good," Kylie told him as she leaned into Sherlock, shoving her face into the crook of his neck and breathing in deeply.

Sherlock stared at the woman in his arms as if she had grown a third head, before looking up at John and Mary with a wide expression.

"Have fun with that," John told him with a smile.

&#*( #( *) (#)(

"Kylie for the last time, I am not a pirate!" Sherlock complained in annoyance as he practically carried the woman into the flat.

"Yeah," Kylie said as she stumbled slightly, only to have Sherlock's hands steady her, "But you wanted to be Sherrrrhook!"

"Don't be absurd Kylie," Sherlock told her as he tried to steer her into the bedroom.

"Mycroft told me! It's adorable!" Kylie gushed before she straightened up and gaped, "We should play it in the bedroom!"

"Oh dear Lord," Sherlock muttered. He didn't quite understand what she was on about, but if it was similar to one of the services listed on Irene's website that he had looked up when he was working her case, this was not going to end well.

"You could be the pirate Captain Sherhook and I could be…" Kylie stopped and wavered slightly as she looked at her hands, "Why are my fingers tingly?" Kylie asked before she turned too abruptly, losing her balance and Sherlock caught her with a sigh of annoyance once more.

She began laughing as Sherlock couldn't help but smile as something fluttered through him. She was annoying right now, but her laugh was infectious. Warmth spread through him as she moved her arm to hug him and buried her head in the crook of his neck once more.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, feeling the ice bag on her shoulder. He needed to get that off and her into bed. He pulled away reluctantly and began to lift up Kylie's sweatshirt.

"I'm tired," Kylie complained to him as she lifted her right arm up over her head so that Sherlock could pull off the sweatshirt.

"I just need to take this off," Sherlock told her as he began to gently pull off the saran wrap.

"What? My shirt?" Kylie smiled at him.

"The ice bag," Sherlock responded flatly.

"You can take my shirt off too," Kylie told him, "And my pants…"

Sherlock looked at her in confusion.

Who in the hell was this person? He wanted his Kylie back.

"Okay," Sherlock told her as she set the ice bag on the ground and urged her into the bedroom.

"Are you going to stay?" Kylie asked him, her big blue eyes wide with intrigue.

"I have to work," he told her as he pulled back the covers and made sure she laid down slowly and carefully, covering her up when she was.

"Stay!" Kylie said trying to reach out with her splinted arm, only to yelp and flinch in pain once more.

Sherlock felt something surge through him as he saw the pain on her face.

He wanted her pain gone. He didn't want her to go through this…

He brushed some hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight"

Sherlock walked out into the living room once more and began looking at the models before moving himself to the couch, lying down and folding his hands in front of him.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he felt eyes on him. He opened his eyes and looked over seeing a drugged Kylie holding the comforter standing in front of the couch.

He sighed, shutting his eyes once more.

"Kylie, you need to sleep."

"I cant," she told him in a small voice, "I cant sleep without you next to me."

Sherlock opened his eyes and stared at her, running a hand through her mused hair. He really needed to work, but this was the only way she was going to sleep.

"Come here," Sherlock sighed as he sat up, taking the comforter from her and laid her down gently on the other side of him, so she was trapped between the couch and himself, ensuring her safety before laying down again. Kylie nuzzled into his chest happily as he covered them up with the comforter. Sherlock began to play with her auburn waves, feeling his mind clear itself. It was almost as if his mind at reach a serene calm, allowing him to think far more quickly and clearly that he ever had before.

Maybe instead of nicotine patches, he just needed this woman close to him?

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