Summary

Sequel to "Silencing A Conscious"

Rose finds trusting Sherlock a little more difficult so the three friends try to solve their latest little problem. but then again, things never go to plan, do they?

Trust The Silence

Rose Spencer was in the kitchen, making a sandwich when she heard the creek on the floor board that was just outside the kitchen door. Her back stiffened and she discreetly looking in the reflection of the toaster to see what it was.

Sherlock had gotten up to check on one of the experiments that currently occupied the kitchen table, though his eyes darted to the pair watching him in the reflective surface. He frowned.

She had not relaxed fully around the man since before they went out the previous day - running around London and confusing the hell out of a complete stranger. Sherlock didn't understand it, but he wanted to.

"Coffee?" She offered, getting a positive response from the man before he moved back to the living room, pacing in front of the sofa in thought. He hated to sit still after all, and he still didn't have a case.

Rose brought him in a cup of coffee, then went to sit in one of the chairs to finish the last half of her jammy food. After a while Sherlock turned to her, having left his coffee to cool on the desk.

"You don't trust me." He said in slight shock, somehow finding the little fact slightly offensive.

She just looked up to him, speaking before taking the last bite of food. "Do you really blame me?" She didn't like not trusting the madman, but after realising how unpredictable he could be, she couldn't really help it.

"Well, you need to trust me." He said, as thought it were just that simple.

"Easier said than done, Sherlock." She told him, voicing her thoughts, taking out her phone to see if anything was new with the news, trying to avoid her trust issues.

He saw her attempt to skip the little issue, but he also knew that it was something they would have to work on before they could work together as well as they could. He thought about it for a moment, wondering the best approach at which to tackle the problem. He started simple, but getting a little shock in return.

"Why?"

Rose made a snap decision then to give him a taste of his own medicine. Forcing the intensity into her eyes, she dropped her phone onto the chair and turned to him.

Sherlock wondered how such a small word could have such a big reaction; he thought he had begun to understand the woman! Evidently not, he thought worriedly, watching her carefully as she slowly stood up. He saw a fire in her eyes that made him stop pacing though, simply watching as she approached him. When she was about two feet away, he saw she wasn't slowing down, and he decided that he should probably back up a bit. But as he did, she just kept moving towards him, until he ended up sitting down on the sofa.

Inwardly smirking at his dumbfounded expression , she thought she may as well carry on; he had done the same after all. So, leaning forward, she braced her hands either side of his head, practically trapping him, leaning in so they were just as close as they were the day before. The only difference was that their roles were reversed.

He felt his pulse quicken at her proximity, uncomfortable at how close she was. He knew exactly what she was doing though; she was making a point.

"I wonder why, Sherlock?" She said calmly and he could hear the amusement in her voice.

"Well, one day you will need to trust me, and I can't take the chance that you will by then." He said, pushing aside his discomfort, explaining himself for once.

She stood up straight again, seeing that he was right and that they did need to deal with this now; before either of them got hurt because of it. "And how would you suggest we learn to trust each other more then?" She asked, going back to her chair while Sherlock got up and grabbed his coffee of the desk, going to sit in the chair at the desk.

"No idea." He said lowly. He took a sip of his drink, thinking the problem over.

That was how John found them when he came home that after noon; Rose and Sherlock sat opposite each other, both not looking at the other, both with a cup of some form of drink. John found his own cup of hot tea on the kitchen counter, waiting for him.

"Thanks." He called to Rose, knowing it was from her. Going to the living room, he saw that neither of his flatmates appeared to be speaking to the other. "Everything alright?"

Sherlock's head snapped up as the doctor spoke, hope gleaming in his usually cold eyes. "John, how do you get someone to trust you?" He asked quickly, confusing John momentarily.

"What?"

Rose sighed. "If I am to work with Sherlock, then I need to trust him, yes?" John nodded at her, taking the seat opposite her, expecting that his friends were going to keep him occupied for a while. She carried on. "Well, I don't trust Sherlock, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't trust me. So we need to work on that. We just don't know…how." She explained, and John just raised his eyebrows, not expecting such a serious topic.

They had been through several weird and unusual topics of discussion over the past couple of weeks including, but not limited to; decapitated heads, hair colour, why women paint their nails and wear make up, why men might do the same, family pets, body parts in the fridge, body parts in the freezer, music, shopping, and other such random subjects. However, trust had never come up, being one of the unspoken things that John had thought they shared, not needing it to be said. Apparently he was wrong.

"Well, why not do a trust exercise?" He suggested, wondering why they hadn't done this hours ago.

They both got quite suspicious of the idea, Rose becoming a little defensive. "What sort of exercise?" She asked.

"Well, you could let Sherlock catch you." Sherlock just raised an eyebrow at this, spurring John to explain further, turning to the confused man. "Rose falls back and would have to trust you to catch her."

"Sounds like a plan." Sherlock said, finishing off his coffee. Rose had other ideas though.

"I don't think that's gonna happen guys." She said, crossing her arms; she didn't let anyone catch her; she'd rather fall on the floor. It was just one of her little quirks that made her who she was.

John frowned at his friend. "Well, what about letting him pick up, then?"

She just looked incredulous at this; no one had tried to pick her up in years, either in fear of being punched or of simply knowing they were unable to. Muscle wasn't light after all. "I'm hardly light, John." Sherlock snorted, causing her to glare at him lightly. "Oh, please! It's more likely that I could pick you up!" She told him. He smirked though, calling her bluff.

He stood up, opening his arms. "Go on, then."

She just raised an eyebrow at him. "You really want me to pick you up?"

His smirk grew. "I'd like to see you try."

That was the wrong thing to say however, the words echoing Mycroft's, only serving to make her more determined. She gave him a cheeky smile and stood up.

Walking over to him, she crouched down, wrapping her arms around his knees, pushing up and waking forward slightly, making him fold over her shoulder in a very undignified position, him having to duck a little or hit his head on the ceiling. On wobbly feet, she turned to grin at John, who was trying to hold back laughter behind a hand.

Sherlock was too shocked to say anything when she put him down again, only concerning himself with waiting until she had turned away before getting his revenge. John saw the look on his face, shaking his head a little in warning, but Sherlock didn't listen.

As soon as Rose had taken one step towards her chair again - feeling rather smug at having supposedly won that little round - she yelped loudly as her knees were kicked form under her. She fell back, only to fall into a strangely strong arm. It took her a moment to figure out what was happening, arms finding their own way around the mans shoulders, holding on for dear life.

Sherlock was holding her - bridal style.

She tried to catch her breath and slow her heart rate as she looked to him, trying to stay calm. "Put me down, Sherlock."

"No." He said, a tone of amusement in his voice that echoed that of a child.

She bit her lip hard in an effort to control herself, but he knew she would soon freak out and start flailing; he had a plan for it. She hadn't thought that far ahead though. "Sherlock, put me down, now."

"Not until you trust me."

John just watched his friends, wondering how on earth this was going to turn out, for once, having no clue.

"With what?" She retorted, knowing that simply telling him to put her down would do no good.

He thought for a second. "Your laptop." It was a win-win for him. Not for Rose; she had had the laptop since she was 17, but she had moved all her most precious and most secret documents onto the devise a month before her own computer had kicked the bucket. Most of her works and documents were on a separate hard drive, but knowing people could simply plug it in and go through it, she had transferred the more secret of her documents to her laptop. Document's like her own diary records for the past nine years which she knew she should delete but could never bring herself to do so, so they just sat there in hidden folders, waiting to be read again.

She just laughed nervously. "Fat chance." She told him, deciding that if it meant keeping her secrets, being carried around was not such a bad thing after all.

"Rose…" Sherlock said in an annoyed tone; he was getting tired of carrying her now.

"Sherlock…" She mimicked. She didn't care if it was childish of her, she wasn't letting him into her laptop by her own free will. Sherlock saw this and decided he was fighting a loosing battle so far, having a better idea. He walked over to the sofa, and dropped her on it unceremoniously onto the piece of furniture. "Hey!" She said in protest, almost bouncing off and landing on the floor; almost. She caught herself just in time, much to Sherlock's disappointment.

The three of them were still for a while, Sherlock in his chair at the desk again, John sitting in his chair, not having moved, and Rose deciding to just lie back on the sofa.

"Well, it looks like we're back to square one." Said John eventually.

"Actually…" Came a contemplative voice from the other side of the room, making the men look to it. "I trust you a bit more than I did before, Sherlock…" Rose admitted, smiling a little.

They shared a look for a moment, John feeling a little left out. "I just pray it's enough." Sherlock said, turning his attention to John's laptop again, figuring that it was as far as they would get today. Better than nothing, he thought irritably.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Sherlock on the laptop, John reading a book he had picked up, Rose laying on the sofa, thinking about trusting Sherlock.

She thought about the day that she would have to trust him completely and she agreed with him, praying that the day would not be too soon.

Little did she know - little did they all know - that the day would come much sooner than any of them had thought, pushing them all to new limits, testing more than just the friendships between the three flatmates. It would test their very persons.