Nobody could have predicted this. Hell, I bet even Sherlock couldn't have seen this coming.

Whatever this was, it was different. The air in 221B was much lighter. There was a sense of harmony. It was like the tension had never existed between Sherlock and me.

But let me tell you, this was something to adjust to. This was the side of the consulting detective no one had ever seen before. I felt pretty special considering I was the only one to see this new, unexpected side to him. Sherlock left from time to time but always came back. He was new to this whole thing, so I kind of had to help him through it.

This was a new thing for me too, as I'd never done something like this before in my life. I never thought I'd cross into this territory.

Keeping the secret was almost too easy over the phone. Bayley kept in touch. I'd feel good talking to him, but afterwards a heavy guilt would settle in the pit of my stomach. I was amazed at how I didn't feel the urge to confess right then and there about the affair. Sherlock would always be there to make me forget my guilt. It was a roller coaster of emotions.

Despite my curiosity about Irene Alder and Charles Augustus Magnussen, I never questioned Sherlock about either of them. I was sure I could have had I decided to get crafty about it. But just because we were together didn't mean everything changed. Some things had to remain the same.

I took advantage of Sherlock sleeping in to call Amanda. She wasn't too happy about the rude awakening, but she got over that quickly.

"Have you been so busy that you forget to talk to me?" I asked her, standing in front of one of the windows in the apartment. I watched the busy streets and sidewalks. "I mean, we barely talked when we went out clubbing."

"I've been going through a lot lately, Rach. Between college and guys...it's all jumbled up."

"Are you failing classes?"

"No, but I'm struggling in a few." She groaned. "I need to invest in a tutor."

"Ask around, I'm sure you can find help somewhere. Are guys distracting you?"

"A little. This is worse than high school."

"Isn't it supposed to be?" I laughed.

"So word is that you're still in London. Sherlock pulled you into a case?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"I think he's trying to turn you into your dad."

I made a face. "Let's hope not."

"And Bayley is okay with this?"

"No." I shook my head, shifted my weight. "He used to be jealous of Sherlock when I stayed here before the wedding."

This got Mandy laughing. "That's ridiculous!"

"Tell me about it." I wouldn't blame Bay if he was jealous of Sherlock now, because he had good reason to be. "Have you been talking to the others?"

"Not really. I've been trying to bust my ass to get good grades."

"Well, find a tutor, and try to balance work and sleep. Exhaustion doesn't help."

"I know. I'm considering dropping out. College life might not be my thing."

"Aw, come on, Mandy. Try and hang in there. Aren't you done for the year anyway?"

"Yeah."

"Then why are you worrying?"

"I'm worrying about next year."

"Get into good habits over break. That could help."

"Can you help me with that?"

"Of course. I'll recruit the others too. We're not going to let you fail or drop out. You wanted to go to college, you're staying there."

"So how was the wedding? I never got to ask."

"Oh, it was something. Sherlock was the best man."

"Damn, that had to be interesting."

"Oh, yeah, it was. When I come back I'll tell you all the details."

"Are you two still against each other?"

"No. It's weird. I'm still mad at him sometimes for that, but it's a thing of the past, right?"

"You forgave him quick."

"Not as quick as my dad did." I leaned back as Sherlock held me. I shook my head, knowing better than to not expect something like this.

"I kind of wish I went to the wedding."

"You would have gotten a taste of what my life was like the last time I was in London." I chuckled dryly. I heard Mandy yawn. "I should let you try and get back to sleep. Sometimes I forget the time difference."

"Either that or you did this on purpose to annoy me."

I smiled. "Just make it through, Mandy. You can."

"'Bye, Rach."

"'Bye." I held the phone at my side. Another guilt beat pumped in my heart. I couldn't even bring myself to tell Amanda, the girl who'd known all about Moriarty, The Fall, and everything else since I'd visited London. Could I bring myself to tell anyone about this? "Thank you for not stealing my phone or distracting me. I have a feeling you want me to run to get food."

"We've got nothing edible."

I grimaced. "There are only two of us, and we go through so much food. Well, you must because I don't eat that much." I twisted my head to look up at him. "Just what do you do with it all?"

"I get bored."

"Does that mean you throw food everywhere and waste it?"

"I'm not a child, Rachel. I use some for experiments."

"Please tell me you don't use body parts in food."

"It accidentally fell into the tea. You saw it."

I laughed, recalling the eyeball tea. "It was still disgusting." I turned my entire body, throwing my arms over his shoulders. "Is this how it's going to be now? You'll be anchored here, not chasing after burglars or murderers?"

"Oh, you won't stop me from doing that—boring cases will."

"You won't start shooting up a wall again if you get really bored, will you?"

"Nothing is stopping you from grabbing food," he hedged.

"Currently you are," I retorted, smiling. "But I'll go. Just make sure you don't cook an animal in the stove or light yourself on fire while I'm gone, okay?"

"You might want to dress first unless you want to get a lot of stares."

I looked down at my nighttime attire. "Hmm, you're right. Let me go do that."

It didn't take long for me to shower and change. I made sure I had enough money before giving Sherlock a quick kiss goodbye and leaving Baker Street. My leg bounced as I rode in the cab. My mind was a live wire, excitement ran through my veins. Was this how people felt when they led a double life? Were they caught up in the newness of it all?

I wondered how long the novelty would last.

I hadn't made a list, so I picked up what foods I suspected we would need. I tried to pick up as little as possible and still have some money left over. I definitely didn't want to go over my limit. I didn't want to have to hassle with carrying things back in either.

I spent an hour shopping before I caught a cab back to 221B. With some effort, I pried the door open, all while managing not to drop anything. I nearly tripped up the stairs, though. I'd been in a rush since the bags were weighing my arms down. Too bad Sherlock hadn't bothered to realize I was back and meet me halfway to help me. He wasn't a perfect guy to be in a relationship with. Then again, was anybody?

Bayley could be, considering all that you've been through with him and know about him. I really didn't want to deal with my conflicted emotions right now. I wanted to drop the bags into the kitchen and force Sherlock to put away the food since he didn't help me carry anything in.

I didn't see Sherlock anywhere, so I assumed he was in the bathroom. He had to know I was back by now. He'd probably remain in the bathroom just to get out of doing something. Growling, I put away all the food, putting them in their proper places. I soon fished out my iPod, popping in the ear buds. I let the music play at a moderate level.

"What are you doing?"

I yelped, the ear buds flew out of my ears, slapping my body. My eyes narrowed as a shower-fresh Sherlock watched me from the kitchen. Thank God he was dressed.

"Don't do that. I don't like people popping out of thin air. And don't say you didn't know I came back. You were in the bathroom intentionally, I'm sure. By the way, thanks for all your help," I said sarcastically. "Anyway, I was enjoying my music."

"No, you were dancing...at least, that's what you would call it."

My eyes widened. "You're saying I'm a bad dancer?"

"You don't have much coordination."

"Oh, and I suppose you're the master of dance now?"

"I never claimed to be. I will say, though, that I have much more experience than you."

"I won't argue on that. So I guess you want to teach me again?"

"There's no case, and I'm bored. It might be a better alternative."

It didn't take long before we got things set up and going. Sherlock spent at least five minutes telling me notes on perfecting my posture. His notes made me feel like a princess being told how to act like one. I knew this was going to go down the pre-wedding path.

When we finally got to dancing, I fared a little better. Sherlock put in comments here and there, telling me to keep up, to not step on his feet, to not stare into his eyes because I was being distracted, and to do anything but what I was currently doing because it was wrong. He seemed a tad bit harsher compared to the last time he coached me. Yet, the way he said his comments weren't in a harsh tone, he said them with surprising gentleness.

Twenty minutes in I was beginning to see this was a bad idea. Too bad I hadn't realized it sooner.

"You can always quit," Sherlock insisted.

"No," I said determinedly. I quickly ran through a lot of the notes that had been thrown at me since we started this fiasco. "If I'm even a tad bit better than I was before, I'll take it. I'm not shooting for a master status."

I swore I saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. I'm glad he thought I amused him, because I was struggling with this. I wondered if everyone amused him. I wondered how he viewed everyone. Did he think himself superior to others?

With the music going softly, I honed in on what I was doing. Commentary didn't come as often as I had anticipated. If anything, Sherlock had barely anything to say. I guess I was doing something right.

"You're a bit better," Sherlock noted as we stopped. Music still played softly. "You're still not graceful."

"But I'm getting better," I said defensively. I hopped a little closer when he nudged me. "Can you get any closer?"

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Hardly." I smiled thinly. "If you keep me like this, you might as well kiss me."

I practically gave Sherlock permission. He was getting better, slowly. He was still new to the whole kissing-a-girl thing, which I found kind of amusing and cute. My heart galloped in my chest, almost threatening to explode.

This can't be forever, you know. America is your home. Bayley is back there, so are your friends. How will you manage this when you go back? How long will it take for the guilt to eat you alive? How will this all end? I told the voice in my head to shut up. It was asking too many questions that I didn't want to think about right now.

I didn't want to think about my future at the moment. I wanted to stay in the present.