Who knew that one word could create so much unresolved tension? Love. What a stupid word. And this was something which Scarlett couldn't help but think as she lay awake the next morning, hearing the slamming of cupboard doors in the kitchen, knowing Sherlock was awake and raring to go for the day. Well, he hadn't even gone to bed that night. Scarlett lay there, wondering why she had said it. She didn't mean for it to slip out. She didn't want to tell him how she felt so early on in their relationship. But she did love him. She couldn't help but think it was stupid. Love was stupid. It made people reckless, irresponsible and it hurt. It hurt not to hear him say it back to her. To ignore her like it never meant anything annoyed her. Was he so incapable of feeling anything to her? Finally, Scarlett heard the door to the bedroom open and she closed her eyes, feigning sleep, whilst she heard Sherlock's light breathing move further into the room. She heard the shutting of a wardrobe door and then he left again. She heard him cough loudly once and then move down the steps of 221B Baker Street and then the front door slammed shut.
"Uh," Scarlett complained, flouncing out of the bed, reaching for some clothes and quickly changing into them. She brushed her hair and added the necessary ointments to her body before using the bathroom.
"You just missed Sherlock," John commented when Scarlett walked out into the kitchen, her body ignoring the slight pain coming from her shot wound as she raised her eyebrows and nodded.
"Have I?" she asked him and he nodded.
"Good," she snapped suddenly and began to search for a clean mug, but, she was unable to find one. Tightening the muscles in her neck, she managed to keep calm and then reached for her coat.
"Where are you going?" John asked her.
"Out for a drink...and maybe a fried breakfast...the calorie intake doesn't particularly bother me at this moment in time," she informed John who began to look for his coat.
"I'll come with you," he said. "I can sense this is something Sherlock's done."
"Or something he hasn't," Scarlett muttered.
...
"So go on then," John pushed Scarlett whilst she sat opposite him, her hands wrapped around a hot chocolate.
"I...I think I made a mistake John..." Scarlett whispered and John raised a brow, drinking his coffee as he did so.
"What is it?" he asked and she shook her head, looking down at the red plastic table.
"I told Sherlock..." she stammered. "I told him that I love him," she managed to spit out and John's mouth fell open.
"Oh," was all he could manage to say and Scarlett ran a hand through her hair. "Presumably he said nothing back to you?"
"He didn't even acknowledge it," Scarlett sighed. "Just carried on like I had told him we were out of tea."
"Don't tell him that," John shook his head. "Because then he would have a fit."
"But...I don't know John...I guess that deep down I knew he wouldn't say it back to me...I mean...he's not openly affectionate. He's a gentleman and all that...but he isn't the type to dote on someone."
"No," John agreed. "He's not."
"So now I don't know what to do," Scarlett complained. "Because if I tell him that I meant it then I risk alienating him, but, if I tell him I didn't mean it then I'd just be a liar."
"The problem with Sherlock," John began, "he has never really cared for anyone. People's lives...they're all just part of the puzzle to solve. He fails to care if the live or die as long as he solves the problem surrounding it...but...when...when Moriarty had taken you...he changed. It was almost like there was a switch in him which made him care about if you lived. He didn't get the usual excitement of solving a case...so yes, he has changed because it is clear as day that he does care for you. He just won't admit it."
"I...I know he cares John..." Scarlett agreed. "I just wanted to hear him say it."
"And one day," John promised her, "he will. But for now he needs time to realise how he feels...to know that he feels the same. Sherlock doesn't deal well with emotions."
"No kidding?" Scarlett snorted and John chuckled.
"Trust me," John looked into her eyes, "he does love you. He just doesn't really know what to do about feeling it."
...
"You okay managing the stairs?" John asked Scarlett when they returned to 221B Baker Street and she nodded at him.
"I'm fine," she assured his worry and began to slowly climb up them, John following behind to make sure she didn't fall back. As soon as she reached the top of the steps she looked into the large lounge. No Sherlock.
"Well...I don't know where he is," John replied to her as he dropped the bags of shopping onto the worktop which they had collected earlier.
"No," Scarlett agreed and she noted something on the table.
"John," Scarlett called his name, "are these yours?"
"What?" John asked, looking at the tickets which were on the table and he shook his head.
"No," he responded, "Sarah and I haven't made plans for a while...she's been busy and so have I..."
"That means..." Scarlett couldn't even begin to fathom the words to describe what was in front of her. For Sherlock to have done this...well...it definitely meant something.
"Obviously they are for you," John said and Scarlett picked up the two tickets and looked at the time and date and film.
"They're for tonight," she said.
"Well yes," a new voice entered the room. Scarlett held onto the tickets as she looked at Sherlock who had entered the flat, he was removing his scarf and then his gloves as his cool eyes looked onto the floor. "You had turned the page in the movie reviews onto the one which the film was on a lot and so that indicated you were interested."
"I am," Scarlett replied.
"I know," Sherlock agreed. "So I thought maybe I should take you out instead of leaving you to rot in here with John's constant wittering."
"That would be nice," Scarlett agreed. Things were still fraught. The atmosphere was still tense. But...maybe a knife wouldn't be needed to cut the tension...maybe a little prick from a pin would have sufficed.
"Tea, John!" Sherlock demanded, sitting on the armchair. "I'm parched."
...
"She told me," John stated once Scarlett had left for the bathroom, going for a bath before going out for the evening.
"There are many things she could have told you John," Sherlock replied. "I'm no mind reader but I imagine I could have a good guess at what she said to you."
"She told me...that she told you...that she loved you," John managed to say it all correctly and Sherlock looked into his friend's eyes.
"What about it?" he asked and John snorted loudly.
"What do you mean what about it?" he snapped quietly. "She wants to know if you feel the same."
"Uh!" Sherlock complained, rolling his eyes. "I knew she would."
"Well it is customary to say it back to her," John said. "Instead of going to make pots of tea."
"It was hot chocolate."
"Regardless," John shook off. "Why can't you just tell her?"
"Because I don't love her," Sherlock growled and John rolled his eyes.
"Yes, you do." He replied. "Do you care for her?"
"Yes."
"Do you think she's attractive?"
"Yes."
"Would you do anything to protect her?"
"No," Sherlock replied sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "I just saved her life a few times in the process of risking my own."
"That's a yes then," John said back to him and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Of course it's a yes."
"Then its love," John shrugged and Sherlock shook his head.
"It doesn't feel like love," he murmured.
"That's because you don't know what love feels like," John said and he waved his hands, creating a circle. "This right here is love."
"Humph," Sherlock grunted. "She knows I care for her...I bought her cinema tickets! I have to admit that as I stood in line for them I did contemplate slicing my own throat but-"
"Sherlock!" John interrupted. "Just...tell her you're sorry for how you reacted and it will all be fine...you don't need to say it back to her...just an apology."
...
"And you're sure you're up to this?" Sherlock checked as he helped Scarlett out from a black cab and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close, making sure she was stable.
"I'm fine," she promised him in a small voice as they walked up to the screens of horror for Sherlock.
"I suppose," Sherlock drawled, "I should say sorry for how I acted last night." He took Johns advice.
"Why?" Scarlett asked, pushing him.
"Because it was unfair of me to walk away like I did when you were so clearly hurt. And so, for that, I am sorry." Sherlock confirmed his apology.
"Okay," Scarlett sighed and looked straight ahead. "I suppose the cinema tickets confirm that you don't think I'm half that bad."
"No...not half anyway...maybe seventy five percent..." he joked, ceases forming his cheeks, causing Scarlett to swat him on the arm as he took her hand and wrapped it into the crook of his.
"Where are you going?" Scarlett asked Sherlock when he began to walk straight over to hand his ticket in. "I want food."
"Popcorn, I imagine?" he responded, going into his wallet and pulling the money out as she nodded and he placed his order. The entire smell of the place did things to him.
"Screen number three," the woman said when Sherlock handed her their tickets. "Enjoy the film."
"Don't worry," Sherlock replied in a whisper as they walked away. "The chances of that happening are slim."
"Sherlock," Scarlett snapped as he held the door to the cinema open, allowing her to enter the blacked out room first. He followed as she walked into the middle of a row and plunked herself down onto a seat, stuffing popcorn into her mouth.
"How droll," Sherlock commented, "there's no life to it at all...predictable."
"If you're going to complain," Scarlett threatened him, "then we're just going to leave."
"Are you trying to tempt me?" Sherlock asked her and she began to remove her coat whilst Sherlock took a small piece of popcorn and examined it.
"You eat it..." Scarlett informed him as if he were stupid which earned him to glance.
"I am perfectly aware of that." Sherlock replied back in a small whisper. "I've never even tried it before."
"You...you've never had popcorn?" Scarlett checked and Sherlock nodded at her.
"No," he said. "Am I missing out?"
"Eat it and see," she pushed him.
"Fine," he agreed and popped the small piece into his mouth.
"What do you think?" she asked and he wrinkled his nose.
"Bland," he stated simply.
"What?" Scarlett checked and Sherlock began to remove his coat but he allowed his scarf to stay wrapped around his neck.
"I said it was bland," Sherlock frowned. "You can eat it all."
"I can't eat it all," Scarlett replied. "That's just greedy."
"You're in need of the calorie intake," he assured her.
"Thanks very much," she replied. She began to remove her coat, Sherlock taking it from her hand and laying his and hers on the empty seat next to his, hopefully giving people the hint not toe even try and sit next to him. Before either one of them could say anymore, the room went dark and people began to shut up before the trailers rolled on the cinema. Sherlock sat back in his seat, lacing his hands together, his elbows resting on the armrests either side of him. He tried his upmost to keep up with the dull plot but he found his mind wandering. He began thinking about trying to find a case to focus on...but...then he thought about what Scarlett had said last night. Did she love him? Did she mean it or was it something she said in the heat of the moment? But Sherlock couldn't bring himself to even contemplate saying that back to her. He did care for her...but love...he knew the definition of love...and the idea of it scared him. As soon as the credits began to roll Sherlock handed Scarlett her coat, helping her into it as she stood up. He took her hand and placed it into his arm as they walked from the large building.
"So what did you think?" Scarlett asked him.
"About?" he wondered and she rolled her eyes, throwing the popcorn into the bin before walking down the pavement.
"The film..." she replied. "The thing we have just been sat watching for the last couple hours."
"Oh that," he shrugged. "Predictable...did you enjoy it?"
"It was alright I suppose," she admitted.
"Good," Sherlock said. "Because I don't plan on sitting through torture like that again."
...
Thank you so very much to everyone who reviewed! I have an idea and the plot shall pick up once again! So thank you to eruptingearth, I am so glad you like the fanfic! Thank you to Cheeseball too for constantly reviewing and also to smimjin and My Purple Skies as well as ladimon for reviewing my previous few chapters!