A/N: Oh, man. Last chapter. Hey, I warned you it would only be eight chapters! At least, I think I did. Anyway. Here we go. Before we get started, I want to dedicate this chapter - no, this whole story - to everyone who stuck with this, and put up with me during the long waits. I know you were probably furious with me for taking so long, and I understand completely. I would be mad, too. But that's why I love you all! You guys are so good and loyal, and probably the main reason I didn't give up on this story is because you didn't give up on me. So thank you.

Ohh, before I forget, if you have Coldplay's album, "A Rush of Blood to the Head", I strongly suggest you listen to "The Scientist" while you're reading this. I've put some of the lyrics below, and it really fits perfectly, if you look at it from Rhodes' point of view. Anyway, yeah. Stay tuned for my Author's Note at the bottom.

Disclaimer: For the last frickin' time, "Down the Rabbit Hole" belongs to me; "The Dying Detective" belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. So none of the good ideas I had for this story were my ideas.

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Down the Rabbit Hole

a modern Sherlock Holmes fanfiction

by Wakizashi

Chapter Eight: A Long Tale

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Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry

You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you, tell you I need you

Tell you I set you apart

Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions

Oh, let's go back to the start

- Coldplay, "The Scientist"

----

The squad of cars roared off down the street, sirens wailing. Though the street was empty of pedestrians, a taxi rushed by now and then; it was New Year's Eve, I kept having to remind myself, and everyone had places to go, people to get drunk with. The year certainly had gone by quickly.

Rhodes' shoulders sagged visibly. "Thank God all that's over with," he muttered, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets. "Come on, Bridges, let's go inside and get something to eat. I'm famished."

He went to open the gate to the courtyard, but I stood perfectly still. "Bridges?" he said again. "Don't stand out here, you'll catch a cold. Come on inside."

I still gave no reply, still didn't move.

Rhodes came up behind me and took hold of my hand. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked gently.

"Oh, don't you 'baby' me, you big phony," I said furiously, yanking my hand from his grasp.

His green eyes widened in surprise. "Bridges?"

"Why did you make me think you were dying?" I demanded. "Why didn't you tell me it was all an act to convince Laney? For God's sake, you made me sick to death worrying about you!"

"Please, Bridges, don't be angry with me," he replied beseechingly. "I had to make everyone believe that I was seriously ill; everyone, including you. If I had let you in on it, your concern wouldn't have been genuine, and Laney would have seen right through it. It made me absolutely miserable, Bridges, seeing you so worried, but I just couldn't tell you."

I scoffed in disgust. "Yeah, right. Miserable." He opened his mouth to protest, but I kept going. "All this time, you were lying to me. And I believed you. God, I believed you! And what about all that talk about how you loved me, how you needed me more than anyone else in the world? I suppose those were all lies, too?"

At this Rhodes' mouth dropped open. "No! No, Bridges, I wasn't lying! It was the truth, every word of it!"

"Uh-huh," I said sarcastically. Suddenly I spun on him. "Oh my God, the massage! Now it all makes sense! You faked muscle cramps just to make me give you a massage. Boy, you must have a lot of nerve. Oh, and let's not forget those so-called 'chills'." I mimed quotation marks in his face. "I guess your bed was getting a little too lonely, and you needed some company."

Rhodes shook his head desperately. "No, Bridges, you... you don't understand--"

"Oh, I understand, all right, Rhodes," I interrupted bitterly. "I understand that you're a horndog. I understand that you're a liar, and a scheming, manipulative fraud. I understand that--"

"Bridges, please," he pleaded, resting his hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, don't touch me, Rhodes!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the dark street. My eyes were welling up with tears.

Slowly, his hand slid from my shoulder and fell back down to his side. A long silence settled between us.

Finally he took a deep breath. "Bridges... I don't blame you for being upset," he said. "But I never meant to hurt you."

"Wow, where have I heard that before?" I heard myself say bitterly. "Christmas day comes to mind." My voice donned a facsimile of Rhodes's Southern accent. "'I would never deliberately hurt you, Bridges. If I did, I would want to die.' Sound familiar, Rhodes?"

He dropped his gaze to his feet. "I know," he said quietly. "I know I said that, and I'm ashamed. I'm... more than ashamed, I'm mortified, disgusted at myself. But you have to understand, Bridges, I was protecting you. Laney was vengeful and unstable, yes, but she was also keenly observant. If she had even the slightest suspicion that my illness wasn't real, and that you knew it wasn't real, she would come after you, too. And I refused to allow anything to happen to you."

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fight off the cold. "Well, I'm sorry, Rhodes, but I don't think Laney could possibly have hurt me as much as you did."

"Oh, Bridges..." Rhodes took my hands and rubbed them between his. "I was an idiot, a complete... jackass." He actually frowned at his own coarse language. "And I'll be the first one to admit it. But I truly didn't mean to hurt you. I love you." He blinked back tears of his own. "You've got to believe me, Bridges."

How I wanted to believe him. He seemed so sincere, and he was telling me everything I wanted to hear. But that was precisely the problem. I had believed him all this time. I had believed when he was in the bathroom, making those awful retching sounds. I had believed when his entire body was wracked with shivers. I had believed when he was lying next to me in bed, ranting about how he wished there could have been more time for us.

I had believed he was dying. And he had been lying to me the whole time.

I didn't know him anymore.

"I wish I could," I said in a low voice, pulling my hands slowly out of his grasp. "Oh, I wish to God I could, Rhodes. But I just can't." His eyes slid shut as he released a shaky sigh, but at this point nothing could have moved me. "How can I believe anything you say anymore, Rhodes?" I demanded. "Everything from the beginning was a lie! Everything!"

"I know, I know, Bridges!" he exclaimed in frustration, throwing up his hands. "I know I lied to you, and I know I hurt you! But God, what can I say or do for you to understand how sorry I am? If I had known it would cause you this much pain--"

"You would've done it anyway!" I shot back at him, my fists clenched at my sides. "I know you better than you think, Rhodes, so please do not give me any of that garbage right now, okay? We both know you wouldn't have done anything differently even if you'd known how I would react." I had to blink rapidly to clear my vision. "And that's what hurts the most. You don't care how I feel at all."

Rhodes shook his head helplessly. "That's not true," he said in a broken whisper.

I sighed. "No, you're right. That's not completely fair." He looked up at me hopefully. "Maybe you do feel bad about hurting me, somewhere in the back of your mind. But it doesn't stop you from doing it. You just keep on taking advantage of me." I let out an ironic laugh, and it sounded harsh in my ears. "You know, I really can't blame you. I bring it on myself."

"Bridges..."

"That's really what our relationship is, isn't it?" I continued. "You take advantage of me, I get angry. You apologize, and I forgive you. Then it starts all over again." My voice, which I had been trying to control the entire time, finally broke on the last word. "Well, you know what, Rhodes? It's pathetic. And it's painful. And I can't..." I attempted to hold back a sob, and failed. "I can't live this way anymore."

It took a few moments for recognition to show on Rhodes's haggard face. "What do you mean?" he croaked.

Feeling a tear trace down my cheek, I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Rhodes," I said tightly. A large lump formed in my throat, and I had to swallow it down. "I'm sorry, but I just can't see you anymore."

"No," he choked out, clutching at me desperately. "No, please, baby, you don't mean that--"

I reached out and gently extricated myself from his grip.

I placed my hand on the side of his face, lifted it up to look at me.

I gazed into his eyes, moist and bloodshot and filled with anguish. "Goodbye, Rhodes," I said softly.

Turning away from him, I began walking down the sidewalk, my arm raised to hail a taxi.

"Bridges, please, come back!" Rhodes cried out hoarsely. "Bridges! You said you'd never leave me!"

A cab pulled up to the curb. I climbed inside and shut the door, and it sped me away.

----

Sobbing quietly to myself, I watched the street lamps whip past the windows as the taxi bore me down the steep hills of San Francisco toward the bay. I could hardly believe I had done it; I had actually left Rhodes. It was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. I felt like my heart had been ripped out.

But I had to do it. He had given me no choice. How could I have stayed with him, when I didn't even trust him? Our whole relationship would have been a sham. It already was a sham.

"Hey, little lady!"

My head shot up, and I realized the taxi driver was speaking to me. "Y-yes?" I said shakily.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Why're you crying?"

Oh Lord, I thought, trying unconscously to melt into the seat. Just what I need. A nosey cab driver. "It's nothing," I told him. "I didn't mean to bother you."

He laughed. "Bother? Nothing bothers me." Then he glared at me through the rear view mirror, suddenly stern. "But I don't pick up sad girls who don't tell me why they're crying. So spill, or I dump you off right here."

I quirked an eyebrow doubtfully. "You'd really do that?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," he replied with a casual shrug. I worried that I had been kidnapped by some nutcase; the perfect end to the worst day of my life. Then he laughed again. "Nah, I'm just pullin' your chain," he said. "So? You gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't know why I should," I said, getting irritated. "I don't even know you."

"Yeah, okay." There was a short pause. "Then can I make a guess?"

I sighed heavily and sank back against the seat. "Sure, knock yourself out."

"I will. Since I got your permission." The driver looked at me again through the rear view mirror. "I'd say it's probably got something to do with that tall, skinny guy you were standin' next to back up the hill. Am I right?"

"Maybe," I replied guardedly.

"Thought so." He had a pair of unexpectedly penetrating dark eyes. "So I'd say that means you probably got into an argument, and since you're the one who left, it was probably his fault." I didn't reply, but he knew his line of reasoning was correct. "And since you seem so upset, you're probably in love with the guy. But since you're staring dagger-eyes into me, you probably don't want to admit it."

Surprised, I quickly shifted my gaze out the window.

"And since the guy seemed so broken up when you left him," he continued, braking violently at an intersection, "he's probably really sorry he hurt you. So seeing as how he probably loves you, too, you should probably just forgive him. You think?"

That was scary, I thought to myself. Forcing a breath out through my nostrils, I met the driver's gaze. "Well, seeing as how you've managed to describe my situation perfectly," I said dryly, "I should probably just smile and nod." Then I sighed. "But it's not that simple."

He shrugged. "Nothin' is ever simple, girlie. 'Specially not something like love."

Unable to think of a reply, I merely continued staring out the window. We had reached Fisherman's Wharf, and I noticed large crowds of people gathering on the sidewalks, bundled in warm clothes, apparently waiting for something. Then I remembered. It was almost midnight on New Year's Eve. The fireworks would be starting soon; those bright blossoms of light that ignited the sky with color, then floated down to the ground in fading streaks. I checked my watch: fifteen minutes till midnight.

"Could you drop me off here?" I asked.

"Sure thing."

The taxi slowed to a halt. I leaned forward and handed my fare to the cab driver. "You know," I said at a sudden thought, "you'd make a pretty good detective."

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "Tips aren't as good." He grinned. "Have a happy New Year."

"You, too," I replied, and climbed out of the car. I headed up Pier 39, hoping the view of the fireworks would be better there. I also wondered if all the people would succeed in driving the sea lions away, but the big, barking loiterers probably weren't intimidated by anything anymore.

I continued walking down the Pier to the very end, hearing the bark of the sea lions every now and then to my left. It was so cold I could see my breath, coming out in little puffs. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself. The fog, ever-present in San Francisco, was not too bad for once, and I didn't think it would interfere with the display.

I looked around at the other people that had gathered to wait. A few families, but mostly couples, huddled together for warmth. I stifled a sigh; I had tried hard this time, but it looked as if I would be alone, again, on New Year's. What a perfect way to end the worst day of my life. Sorry to disappoint you, Dad, I thought painfully.

"Bridges!"

My heart gave a lurch as I turned around. Rhodes was fighting his way through the crowds toward me. I cursed angrily under my breath. Had he been following me this whole time?

"Bridges," he said breathlessly as he reached me. "Thank God I found you."

I clenched my fists in frustration. "Damn it, Rhodes, how did you know I was here?" I demanded.

Rhodes smiled sweetly, tenderly at me. "Because I know you, Bridges," he said softly, taking my hand in his. Despite my best efforts, I found myself unable to pull it out of his grasp. "I knew exactly where you'd be. I knew you would remember that it's New Year's Eve. I knew you would want to see the fireworks, because you love bright colors. And I knew you would come down to the Pier, because you would want to get the best view, and because you like to come hear the sea lions."

I found myself blinking back tears, but I didn't want to give in. "Rhodes..."

"I know you so well, Bridges. I know that you're angry with me, and you don't want to forgive me. And I know that you feel like you can't trust me, but you can." He brought my hand up to his face and kissed it, and I became aware that many of the people on the Pier were watching us. "I promise that you will always be able to trust me."

Why did he have to make this so difficult? "Rhodes," I told him wearily, "your promises mean nothing to me. Please, just leave me alone."

"No!" he exclaimed adamantly, causing me, along with several others, to jump. "No, I will not leave you alone!" I stared at him, stunned, and he returned my gaze with pleading eyes. "I will not let you walk out of my life like this, Nadia Bridges," he said unsteadily, holding onto my hand like a lifeline. "No matter what happens to us, I will never let you go. You're the most important thing in my life; you are my life. And I'm not about to give you up, not ever."

The earnestness of Rhodes' demeanor moved me deeply. But, I had to remind myself, I couldn't allow his apparent sincerity to cloud my judgment. They were just words, after all.

"Bridges, please listen to me. Please?" He squeezed my hand, and I sighed and waited. "You have every reason to hate me. I lied to you, I took advantage of you, and I put you through unnecessary pain."

"Yeah, that about sums it up," I said bluntly.

"And right now, you're very likely wondering if I'm telling the truth, or if it's merely more lies."

I blew out an impatient breath. "You know, Rhodes, you're not improving my opinion of you right now."

"And maybe," he continued, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, "maybe there's nothing I can say or do to make you believe how truly sorry I am. But you can't hate me, Bridges. If... if I knew you hated me, it would kill me."

I looked down at the ground to avoid those heartwrenching eyes. "I don't hate you, Rhodes," I said quietly. "You saved my life. I just..." I blinked rapidly to clear my vision. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again. I have no guarantee that you won't hurt me."

His hand gently lifted my head up, forcing me to meet his eyes. They were full of love and remorse and desperation. "Don't forget, Bridges, that you saved my life, too. You are the sole reason why I am alive. What I told you tonight, about how I was going to kill myself, was all true. If I hadn't met you..." He trailed off, clearly unwilling to pursue that course of thought to its end.

"I had time to think," he said, "while I was driving here. I thought about what you said, about... about how I take advantage of you. And you're right. And I hate myself for it." His breath hitched in his throat. "But I honestly can't afford to lose your trust, ever again. I would lose you. And I can't live without you. We both know I can't."

Despite my anger, I felt myself wanting to forgive him, wanting to trust him. If he did hurt me a second time, I would leave him for good, and he knew it. He was right; he couldn't afford to blow it again.

"Do you give me your word," I asked, my voice tremulous, "your word as a partner, that no matter what the circumstances are, you will never lie to me, or take advantage of me, ever again?"

In response, Rhodes put his hand to my cheek and caressed it slowly. "You have my word," he promised. "But more importantly, you have my life."

Somehow, I knew he was telling the truth. I thought that I would never be able to believe him again, but I was wrong. His beautiful green eyes - even when they were altered by eye drops - had never succeeded in lying to me. I had been able to see through those windows to his true feelings all along: his guilt, his longing, his sorrow. As long as he had eyes, he would never be able to hide from me.

Slowly, I reached up and covered his hand with mine. A spark of hope lit up his eyes.

"I suppose, after everything we've been through," I said, running my fingertips between his knuckles, the way he did so often to mine, "it would be a shame to let it end like this."

The spark abruptly ignited into a flame. "So you... you forgive me?" he whispered, almost afraid to believe it.

"You owe me, Rhodes," I replied, giving him a watery smile. "You owe me big time."

"Ohh, thank God," he burst out, pulling me into his embrace. He hugged me tightly; a little too tightly, actually, but I didn't mind. Although he didn't know it, if we had parted forever, and never seen each other again, it would have probably killed me, too. Maybe someday I would tell him. But not tonight.

"I love you," he murmured, nuzzling my hair.

I smiled and closed my eyes. "I love you."

"Good, because I was waiting for you to shove me on the ground again."

I laughed, against my will. God, he had to throw that in my face. I squeezed Rhodes back just as tightly, and he threaded his long fingers through my hair with a sigh of deep contentment.

Suddenly I was aware of a chorus of "Awww"s around us, and I remembered we weren't alone. "That's so sweet," somebody said.

I laughed again, embarrassed, burying my face in the lapels of Rhodes' coat. Apparently we were quite the spectacle.

And then the countdown began, and I reluctantly let go of him with one hand and consulted my watch. It was seconds away from midnight. Quickly, I turned toward the bay, leaning back against Rhodes' chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder, giving me a peck on the cheek. I reached up and ruffled his hair. Together, we joined in the countdown to the end of a long tale. Or maybe it was just the beginning.

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

With the collective shout of "Happy New Year!" the crowd burst into deafening applause. Fireworks of every color rocketed into the sky, screeching and crackling all the way. With an even louder bang, they burst into giant blossoms of orange and gold, or sparkling blue and purple showers that drifted lazily back toward earth, reflecting off the black water below.

All around us, people were kissing. The sober joined with the not-so-sober in a rousingly unharmonious rendition of "Auld Lang Syne", and the sound of champagne glasses clinking together reached my ears from all sides.

Smiling in spite of the day's events, I turned toward my partner. "Another promising new year to look forward to, eh, Rhodes?" I said with good-natured sarcasm, craning my neck to meet his gaze.

In contrast with the shining faces around us, Rhodes wore an expression of the most absolute purest desire. Placing his hand on the side of my neck, he leaned forward and kissed me with unrestrained passion.

My father and Alma just won a bet tonight.

My eyes widened at first, shocked by the intensity of the kiss. And then something clicked in my brain: kiss him back, you idiot! I closed my eyes and pressed my body against his, my fingers raking through his shaggy black hair. His thumb slid down the line of my throat, while his other hand slowly massaged my lower back. It was our first kiss, and if it was any indication of how Rhodes always kissed, it definitely would not be the last.

A shiver coursed through me as I felt Rhodes take my bottom lip in his mouth and gnaw on it. His hands dropped to my hips and pulled me still closer, with an urgent hunger I hardly thought him capable of. Finally, when I thought I would black out from lack of oxygen, I broke away, gasping for air. My face felt like it was on fire.

Breathing hard, Rhodes put his forehead to mine, his eyes darkened to a primal forest green.

"Happy New Year," he said huskily.

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A/N: Hell yes. Ugh, God, finally. That was for all you faithful readers who have ben waiting a fricking eternity for them to kiss. And I am very pleased with the way it turned out. Not just the kiss, but the whole story, really. It was hard writing, and almost drove me crazy at times, but I really think it's the best thing I've written. I know, I always say that when I'm done with a story, but this time it's true. Or maybe my writing skills are just improving. (Ha!) Either way, I'm happy with the finished product, and I hope you enjoyed it, too.

As for the next story, I thought I might get a little feedback from you. Some people said it would be a good idea to write it from Rhodes's point of you, but others disagreed, making the very good argument that that would take the mystery out of him, which I wouldn't want. I'm inclined to think that third-person omniscient is the safest bet. But I want your input! So I'm taking a poll: who wants the story to be told by Bridges? Who wants it to be told by Rhodes? And who wants it to be written in third-person?

So those are my terms. Please review and tell me what you thought of this, my final chapter, while you're here, and I will greatly appreciate it. Love you, fellow hounds!

-Wakizashi