You sit in your bath tub, freezing cold. Gladly you didn't get hypothermia due to the cold. If it were snowing you'd surely have to go to the hospital.
The scene that played the two hours earlier broke your heart. Sherlock really didn't love you, did he? Of course he does, you're just too human to realize it. I say that because you're packing up, ready to leave. An you do. One plane ticket to France, Paris.
While on the plane, you contacted (via E-mail) your old friend Molly Hooper who's been keeping tabs on Sherlock and John's whereabouts for the past few weeks. While you, Being in France, enjoy your coffee under the Eiffel Tower. But that's when a hand places itself on your shoulder. You don't jump, you just turn your head to the stranger. His piercing gaze.... Blonde hair.... Business suit...
"Ma'am"
"What are we waiting for? Let's get back to England."
Immediately knowing something was up. Mycroft wouldn't have sent someone for her on her brothers behalf, would he? What time was it in England? Frankly, you didn't care. Honestly, you didn't know what was going to happen to you. But you didn't care... You were still just as miserable as before. Probably even a little bit more.
You stare out at the clouds in the jet that Mycroft had supplied for you to use. And you fall asleep.
Meanwhile, Sherlock was at his parents house with his brother, John, Mary, and the fetus. The fact that Mycroft was so smug about his gift to his depressed little brother set Sherlock off. He was too happy, he didn't like it. Mycroft was never "happy". But when he heard a knock at the door, and Mycroft jump to it(literally), he followed.
He was surprised and delighted at his gift.
There you stood, in a festive red dress that was a bit too short for your liking, so freezing, and looking down at yourself. You were caked in make up, you looked ravishing. You looked like you were about to cry once you saw Sherlock, once you felt Sherlock wrap his arms around your delicate waist. He had cared for you, and you were so stupid as to not realize; Sherlock doesn't just go around randomly like a hooker and start making out with a bunch of people. He did to Janine, and that hurt, a lot... But once you were caught up to speed, you crashed your lips against his. The flavor of strawberry's lingers on his lips. You didn't think he ate at all, since he says eating doesn't help him think.
He doesn't say it, but he loves you. Can't bear a day without you. But he tries his best for you.
Because you're face helps him think.
