The Taming of the Shrew

Holy Shit

Tom's POV

I get home at 11:00 at night, exhausted from a day of shoe searching, and mentally unprepared for another day of Meg. How the actual hell am i going to get through the next few months? Im already absolutely exhausted from just today. I park my car behind another car that's parked in front of the house, and get out, stepping into the crisp December air.

It should start snowing soon. Its already the first week of winter, so we're a bit behind in the frost department. I lock the car and turn around. For a moment, my eyes register what they're seeing, then, my jaw drops. What...? The house lights are turned on. The front lights, kitchen, living room, bedrooms, almost everything. I didnt leave those on. What the hell is going on here? I pull myself together and walk cautiously up to the house. I stop, confused, and slowly turn back around, staring at the other car in front of mine, one eyebrow cocked. It cant be...Moriarty? No. Thats insane. How would Moriarty even be here? Deal with the murderer in the house before worrying about a car that looks slightly like Moriarty.

I continue walking up to the house, unlocking the door as quietly as i can, and stepping inside; grabbing a baseball bat that's out by the door as i enter. Do i wanna know? by Arctic Monkeys is blaring from upstairs and echoing around the house. Please god, dont let it be a serial killer. I raise the bat in a battle-like stance, prepared for anyone to jump out at me.

"Hello?" I call out aimlessly. I immediately regret my decision. Oh, great job, Tom. The intruder hiding somewhere in the house will definitely answer you. 'Hey, Tom! Im just in the bathroom!' Genius plan, really. The music upstairs stops suddenly, shrouding the house in eery silence. Yep. Serial killer.

I tighten my grip on the thick wooden bat. The one broken spot in the floor upstairs creaks as it is stepped on slowly by the mysterious visitor. Oh dear god, what is this? Is this a prank? The footsteps approach the stairs, my eyes following the source of the sound. How does one deal with this situation? Just kind of 'hey dude, im really exhausted right now and it would be great if you would leave the brutal murder until a later time while i rest up.' This is why i wouldnt survive in a horror movie.

A feminine figure appears at the top of the stairs, but i cant make out the face due to the shadow. She steps down the stairs, and as light graces her face, i drop the bat and my jaw along with it. No. How is this...no. Holy shit, am i hallucinating? Am i that tired? As she reaches the bottom step, a grin sweeps across my face as my eyes meet hers; Beth. She has that familiar smirk on her face that only she can create. She is exactly the same as how i left her; still Beth.

"You needed your blue shirt, right?" She asks. My eyes snake down to see that, sure enough, she's wearing my blue shirt. I chuckle and shake my head, walking up to her and pulling her into a rough kiss. God, its been too long since i've seen her. So many things are running through my head. How is this happening right now? What about the book deal? Why is Moriarty here? How long are you staying? Christ, i love you. She pulls away and chuckles.

"I'll take that as a yes." She says. I laugh and brush a piece of hair off of her face. I cant believe she's here right now. She's absolutely bloody incredible.

Elizabeth's POV

"How in the world are you here right now? What about your book?" Tom asks me, glancing from one eye to the other in complete awe. Fuck, ive missed him. He's still so...Tom. Yeah; my Tom. I smirk.

"Both extremely long stories, not worth the fucking time to tell them." He chuckles as i take his hand and begin to lead him into the kitchen.

"You got any ice cream?" I ask as we reach the cool tiles of the kitchen. Fuck, its getting cold over here. He kisses my knuckles, then walks to the freezer, pulling out a tub of Ben & Jerry's and 2 spoons from the drawer. I jump up onto the counter, dangling my legs as he walks toward me, opening the ice cream and resting his elbows on my thighs while he stands. He hasnt stopped smiling. I take a spoonful of the ice cream. Suddenly, his eyes leave mine and look at the floor; a vague sadness resting upon them.