HOLD ME

CHAPTER 7

The following morning both Joan and Sherlock were well-rested. Sherlock had slept the entire night, something Joan was incredibly happy and grateful for.

She had slept well too, but contrary to Sherlock, she had woken up a couple of times; she guessed that half her brain was still attuned to Sherlock's wellbeing and making sure he was okay. However, every time her eyes opened and looked at him concerned, she sighed with relief. Sherlock was sound asleep each time, his breathing deep and slow, his chest weaving up and down with rhythmic movements. The second time she'd woken up she even smiled.

He was laying on his back, one of his arms under his head while the other was touching Joan's arm as if even in his sleep he wanted to make sure she was close to him. One of his legs was on top of the duvet, as was half his body, it seemed he had been hot and had moved half his body out of the duvet to keep cool. But what made Joan smile wasn't his obvious comfortable state and abandoned sleep, it was his face. He was slightly snoring, his lips drawing a slight smile, and he seemed completely relaxed. His face was slightly turned to her, and she couldn't help but move one of her hands to gently pet his hair at the top of his head, brushing it away from his forehead. She smiled, not really understanding how her heart could swell with so much love and affection for someone, and she closed her eyes again, curling up a bit closer to him.

The next time Joan woke up, Sherlock's eyes were already open but, surprisingly, he was still in bed next to her.

"Morning" he whispered when he noticed her stirring, she brushed her eyes with the back of her hand, still half-asleep.

"Good morning" she slurred, voice raspy "I didn't think you'd be here so late"

"It isn't late" he commented. Then he stretched and sighed, moving closer to her and placing his head on her pillow, their faces only inches apart "we have a few more minutes to spare in bed"

"I never thought you'd say that" she teased him with a smile, he simply stuck his tongue out and smiled.

The atmosphere was calm, relaxed. Joan closed her eyes and sighed contently. She had never been a morning person, but she couldn't deny that lately, excluding the two mornings she'd been abducted, waking up next to Sherlock was something she was enjoying immensely.

"So... what do you want to do today?" Joan asked, opening one of her eyes. Sherlock looked at her with a pensive expression.

"I know the Captain gave us all the time we needed, but I'm feeling rested and ready. If you need, Watson, you can stay and..."

"Nonsense. If you go, I go, remember?" she answered, sitting up on the bed. Sherlock followed, their legs brushing with their movements "I just want to ask. Are you sure you're ready?"

"I am" Sherlock answered, his voice sounded convinced and resolute.

Joan nodded, also resolute in her decision. She was feeling okay, well-rested and ready to tackle the case with fresh eyes and a keen mind.

So, after preparing breakfast for two, each of them got dressed and presentable and Joan called Gregson up, he answered they were in the precinct. Together, not holding hands but naturally gravitating towards each other, they caught a taxi and went to the station.

"Hey, are you guys okay?" Marcus greeted them when they both came out of the elevator.

"Yeah, we're fine" Joan answered, Sherlock just nodded his head "ready to get to work"

"We weren't expecting you so soon, to be honest," the detective answered, looking at the already fading bruise on Joan's cheek and the cut on her forehead "according to the Captain, you needed some time..."