(A.N): Only the second instalment and I was already stuck, but can you blame me? Love in the Sherlock Universe is complicated at best, though beautiful in all its forms. I'm not quite sure I did the complexity of the theme in the context given quite the justice it demanded, but I'm satisfied with the result and pretty sure that that's as good as it gets, people. Enjoy. It's very short, but I had not the slightest idea how to expand, and I was scared I'd make a blotch of it.
Disclaimer: I am 100% sure I own Sherlock in some parallel universe. I know I do.
2. Love
Sherlock Holmes could tell you everything about your life (and possibly your wife's too, or even your cat's) and act as if it was completely normal to have a random stranger spout facts about what you had for dinner yesterday.
But bring up the topic 'love' and the world's most infuriating detective would retreat behind a highly disdainful look and a pair of bored blue eyes. He would become decidedly sarcastic, a touchy mouse that bit at every finger of attempted conversation that deign stick itself near his mouse hole.
"I find relationships flat and disgusting in the most profound manner," he haughtily told John when his flatmate had quietly admonished him for insulting yet another 'boring' client, who had pleaded with him to enquire into her husband's frequent overseas trips, and if they were just excuses to see his mistress, if he had one. After telling the unfortunate woman that he didn't care to 'enquire into' the affair and to get herself a backbone, or at least better taste in scarves, Sherlock had turned his back on her and declared 'boring!' in his low clear voice. This signaled the end of the discussion and Sherlock was not going to listen any further to this client, which John tiredly informed the distraught lady and showed her the door in the most gentle manner he could manage, being inwardly bored with the woman as well. John's overused expression of exasperation quickly turned into a suppressed look of amusement at the face Sherlock made in accompaniment to his grand statement.
Yet, many people (and even more newspapers) simply lapped up the thought that the two bachelors who shared a flat were in fact a couple. How did this combat the fact that anyone who came in his vicinity during an investigation or simply while he was visiting his 'mind palace' would be subject to hearing Sherlock's cold as ice and twice as biting conclusions to each scenario he was presented? How did that weigh up to the sarcastically chilly atmosphere he exuded like a complimentary accessory to his long velvet coat?
"I've been informed that I don't have one," Sherlock had once declared matter-of-factly, with raised brows, on the subject of having his heart 'burned out of him'.
Moriarty didn't agree. After all, it was his genius move to tie John Watson up with a bomb and point lasers at him, and he'd be damned if this didn't make Holmes Jr. quake in his well-polished shoes. "Oh, but we both know that's not quite true," he prompted.
Sherlock had never answered that statement. Maybe that was a good thing.
But it didn't particularly answer the unfathomable question: Did Sherlock have a heart?
Perhaps we should just put it this way; Sherlock Holmes has the biggest heart of any human, but doesn't have the slightest idea about what to do with it.
Perhaps that is the answer to the great question.