The Blonde

Raspberry and Tea

This is the last chapter...for this part...or maybe that's book, either way. You can choose to stop here with this ending or...if you want more Sherlock/Rose you can start on the second book, which will include The Doctor, Amy, and Rory, but, just so you have a heads up, that one is also a Sherlock/Rose. It's called, The Alien Encounter.

And a little warning for anyone who needs gets a bit T at the end of this chapter. :)

Sherlock finally tore his gaze away from the microscope. This was ludicrous. Absurd. And…extraordinary. The most extraordinary thing he'd ever come across. Rose was telling the truth.

He examined the metal, which was metal, but the likes of which he'd never seen. The alloys didn't exist. At least, not on Earth. Then he'd performed every test he could think of. Tried melting it with acid. That didn't work. Fire didn't work. Excessive heat didn't work. John would have to replace that pan. Tried different acids. A combination of two acids. Maybe John wouldn't notice the hole in the table. No matter what he did the metal shavings remained intact.

There was only one explanation. Her story was true. If the key was alien in origin then everything else must be true. He smiled. He'd finally found something extraordinary.

He picked up the key and stepped into the living room, prepared to tell her that he believed her, but she wasn't there. John was sitting in his usual chair, but the sofa was empty.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked.

John looked up from the paper he'd been reading.

"She went down to her flat. Wanted to know if you'd bring her key down when you were finished," John replied.

Sherlock headed for the door, but his flatmate stopped him.

"Look…um…" John rubbed the back of his neck, a clear indication that he had something on his mind, but he didn't feel comfortable voicing it. Sherlock sighed. "Be careful with her, all right?"

"Careful?" Sherlock asked, not entirely sure what his friend was getting at.

"She's obviously not very stable-"

Not very stable?

"What are you talking about?"

"The whole alien space ship story."

"You think she's unbalanced," Sherlock deduced.

"Well, yeah. I mean, come on, aliens, space ships."

"She was telling the truth."

"I'm sure she believes that."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. All that therapy was going to his friend's head.

"No, John, she really was telling the truth."

His friend gave him a worried look.

"The key," Sherlock said, holding out the key. John gave him a what the hell are you on look. The detective sighed. "I examined the metal shavings. Ran every test I could think of, which was only twenty-seven because I don't have as much equipment as I'd like, but they all came back to one conclusion. The metal in this key doesn't exist…on Earth."


"The alloys, they don't exist. I tried everything I could think of and I couldn't destroy the metal shavings. We need a new pan by the way."

"You believe her?"

"It's the only logical conclusion."

"Aliens?" John asked, giving him a you can't seriously believe that look.

"Why do you insist on being so…ordinary?"

"There's un-ordinary and then there are aliens that travel in space and time."


"No, I wasn't saying-"

Sherlock stepped out and closed the door before his friend could finish. Ordinary people were so insistent on things being so…ordinary. He descended the stairs and headed for her flat.

He knocked on the door and only had to wait a moment before she opened it. She was wearing another one of those tank tops, powder blue this time, and jeans. She must have showered, but her hair was dry, clipped up in the front and hanging loose at the sides and back. How long had he been testing the metal?

"You can come in…if you want," she replied.

He could hear the uncertainty in her voice. She was worried that he didn't believe her. He was about to banish that worry. He stepped inside.

"I'm returning your key," he said, handing it over after she closed the door.

"Thank you," she replied, sliding the necklace back over her head. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes," he replied. "John doesn't believe me, but he's an idiot."

"Sorry?" she asked, as if she wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"I believe you."


He could hear the disbelief in her voice. He gave her a smile.


She gave him that distracting smile and in the next moment launched herself into his arms. He knew he was smiling like an idiot, but he didn't care. Besides, there wasn't anyone to see it. He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of strawberry from her hair as it brushed his cheek.

He pulled back and gazed into her hazel eyes. She was mad and beautiful and anything, but ordinary. He would've gone his whole life without knowing her if not for an accident. An accident that put two trains on the same path.

The fear was gone from her eyes, but it had been replaced by something else. Something he'd never seen before…at least not directed at him, but he recognized the emotion because it was the same one growing inside his own heart. The voice that whispered her name. His rational mind kicked in, telling him to run. Flee before it was too late because this wasn't simply attraction this was something more. Something dangerous. A weakness he couldn't afford, but his hateful body betrayed him, refusing to listen to the pleas of his mind.

He knew it was his own fault. This betrayal. A moment of weakness when they argued that led to a kiss, but, oh, he'd thought about that kiss. Replaying it in the quiet solitude of his mind palace. He understood the chemistry of attraction. Had used it on occasion as a means to an end when he had need, but he hadn't expected the feelings she stirred inside him. The fire of her lips or the desire that burned through him whenever she was near. He'd been above such things, but with one look she scattered his resolve like so much dust.

She was compassionate and caring so unlike the man standing before her who cared more about solving the puzzle than the people involved. His mind tried to insist that someone like her could never want someone like him. That there must be another reason for her attention. He was used to the people in his life wanting something from him. The only woman he'd ever been involved with used him, but Rose wasn't like that.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, tilting her head and giving him a quizzical smile.

"I..." he didn't do this things. This talking about feeling thing. Just thinking about it made him uncomfortable. He wanted to release her. To walk away, but her eyes held him in place. "I don't think I can do this."

"Do what?" she inquired, as if she had no idea what he was talking about, but she had to know.

"I don't feel things like other people. I don't care like they do."

"Maybe not like everyone else, but you do care and you do feel. I can see it."

He wanted to believe she was right. Believe that somehow she could see something in him that no one else could, not even himself, but he knew she was being naive. Seeing what she wanted to see and not the truth. That he was incapable of caring in the same manner as other people. He started to pull away, knowing this was wrong, but she grabbed his lapels and held him in place.

"John's right. For a genius you can be a real idiot sometimes."

Before he could protest she pulled him into a kiss. He was so surprised that he didn't respond at first and then his body took over banishing his rational mind as he began to return her kiss. Slowly, deliberately, giving in to the sensations she evoked in him. Sensations he never knew he was capable of feeling. She was impulsive and completely mad and drove him to distraction, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Her lips tasted of raspberry and tea. His hand cupped her cheek. He felt the warm flush of her skin and inwardly relished that he was the cause. No longer surprised this was happening he gave into the madness that smelled of strawberries as her hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

His arm took a firmer hold on her waist as he deepened their kiss. His body knew exactly what it wanted. Her, in that moment. He gave in to his desire for this extraordinary woman, but she didn't relax in his hold. Instead she met his invasion with a fierce determination of her own because she wasn't the sort of woman to give in. Her hand slid under his collar, fingertips grazing between his shoulder blades. A shiver ran through him and he inwardly cursed his body as he felt the smile form on her lips, but he refused to give her the upper hand because this was a battle she wouldn't win.

His hand slid down her cheek, grazing her neck with his thumb. A sigh escaped her lips. He broke their kiss with a smile of his own, catching her eye before dipping his head to her neck. As he tasted her skin her body began to relax, bending to his will.

"You are evil Sherlock Holmes," Rose said. Her voice coming out in a husky whisper, making him smile into her neck.

He pulled back while he still had the upper hand and gazed into her hazel eyes. She was smiling in that distracting way that drove him mad. She placed her hand on his chest, but not to push him away.

"I'm surprised you didn't throw me out of your flat," she said, her smile dimming at the corners.

He searched her eyes in an attempt to decipher this sudden shift.

"Why would I do that?"

"Aliens...ships that travel in space and time. Most people would've thrown me out."

"Most people are idiots."

She laughed.

"No, they just like things-"

"Ordinary," he finished. "I've always found ordinary quite boring."

"Me too," she replied before grabbing his lapels and pulling him into another kiss.

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)

Look for the second part...The Alien Encounter.

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