The Silent Game

Leaning On A Silent Friend

John kept an eye on Rose the whole time as they walked in the building; and it was starting to bug her a little. He thought she hadn't noticed, but she had done so as soon as he started. Meanwhile, Sherlock just didn't care at that moment, preferring to be more focused on the car man in front of them.

"I can't really see how I can help you, I'm afraid." He was saying.

"Mr Monkford hired the car form you yesterday." John tried to confirm, glancing away from his friend, to the man behind the desk. He found he could keep both in sight however as Rose moved around slowly, going to stand just next to the man.

"Yeah, lovely motor." The man said. "Mazda RX8. Wouldn't mind one of them myself."

Rose cocked her head to the side slightly, eyes a little wider than usual. She pointed to a picture of a car on the wall behind the man at the desk. In an innocent voice she asked, "Is that one?" John frowned slightly at her behaviour; she was up to something, he just knew it. Sherlock smiled inwardly as he turned to watch them.

The man turned to look at the picture, Rose glancing at his neck as he did so. Bingo, she thought, seeing his tan line. The man didn't notice her though, chuckling slightly. "No, they're all Jags." He turned back to her, giving her a little bit of a cheeky smirk. "Not a car person are you?" She just tilted her head, shrugging her shoulders in reply.

"But surely you afford one - a Mazda, I mean." Stated Sherlock as she went to stand behind John, much to the man's annoyance.

"Yeah, that's a fair point." The man allowed. "But you know how it is. It's like working in a sweet shop. Once you start picking up the Liquorice Allsorts, when does it all stop, eh?" He said, scratching his arm slightly.

"But you didn't know Mr Monkford." John said, trying to keep the questioning reasonably normal and steady, despite his friends' efforts.

The man was clueless to what was happening though. "No, he was just a client. He came in here and hired one of my cars. I've no idea what happened to him. Poor sod!" Rose could have seen through the lie even without her self taught skills.

"Nice holiday, Mr Ewart?" Rose asked, getting a ghost of a smile from Sherlock. He knew what she was doing and he let her take the lead this time; he felt she needed both the experience and the distraction.

The man at the table was confused though. "Eh?"

"Been away, haven't you?" Rose asked, frowning a little for effect.

"Oh, the.." He said, motioning to his face. "No, it's the sun beds, I'm afraid. Yeah, too busy to get away. My wife would love it, though - bit of sun." He had steered the conversation away from his tan - and tan lines - looking to John, seeing he was the least likely to call him out on it.

Rose smiled politely at the man. "I think we're done here then." She said, John putting away his notes and heading for the door, Sherlock waiting for her to leave, holding the door for her. He was a little disappointed that she hadn't finished the job, but he guessed he couldn't have everything.

As she passed the door though - Sherlock seconds away from speaking up - she poked her head back in. "Sorry…." She said, looking a little embarrassed. "You haven't got any change for the cigarette machine have you? I'm all out and dying for one." She explained with a small but sheepish smile.

The man flashed her a smile, pulling out his wallet. He frowned slightly when looking through it though. "No, sorry." He looked up apologetically.

She just gave him a small smile. "Ah, well!" With that she went out the door again.

Sherlock smiled slightly; maybe I can have everything after all. "Thank you very much for your time, Mr Ewart. You've been very helpful."

Walking through the workshop of cars, Sherlock followed John and Rose as they talked, heading for the door.

"I've got some change if you still want-" She cut him off though.

"Got my own thanks, John." She said, pulling out her cigarettes and a lighter, taking one out of it's little box. Both men inwardly frowned at this, sharing the same thought; she must be really stressed. Though it was Sherlock who added, hiding it well, though, the cigarettes practically the only sign, to his thoughts.

John frowned. "So, what was all that about?"

"I needed to see inside his wallet." Rose said, pushing open the door and lighting up, now standing in the cold air.

"Why?"

She closed her eyes for a second, letting out a large amount of smoke. "Mr Ewart's a liar." She told them, getting the predicted response from Sherlock.

"Of, course."

Rose sat where she was several hours ago, silent and contemplative as she could be. Sherlock was working at his station, John sitting at the next table, still thinking about what could have upset Rose so much, shooting her a look every few seconds or so.

After half an hour of sitting in silence, she thought her head would explode with the pressure that was pushing behind her eyes; she had started to develop a killer headache.

"You alright?" John asked as she pulled on her coat, looking to the floor again.

"Yeah." She sighed, doing up a couple of buttons and burying her hands in her pockets, heading to the door. "Just going for some fresh air." They all knew what she meant by fresh air.

John was really starting to seriously worry though; that was her fourth cigarette she had had since they had met up again, having had one when they got to Bart's. "I'll keep you company." She didn't argue with him, simply holding the door for him, not looking him in the eye.

She had felt guilty ever since she had gotten a grip on herself while being pinned against the wall at the Yard. She knew she may not be the best fighter, but she was certainly not an easy person to take down. She hoped she hadn't hurt him in any way; she would never forgive herself if she had.

Thirty seconds after getting outside, leaning against the wall and lighting up, Rose had had enough of feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, John." She said in a low voice, eyes on the floor still.

John just frowned in confusion. What on earth could she be sorry for? "Why?"

"I hope I didn't hurt you…you know, before." She said, swallowing slightly. But he just chuckled slightly, shaking his head. She looked up at the sound. "What?"

"Rose, I was a soldier and a doctor; I know how to handle a myself in a tricky situation. Whether it be in a fight, treating a wriggling patient, or stopping a young woman do something she would probably regret later." He finished softly, looking her in the eye.

She sighed, knowing she would have to tell him sooner or later. She pulled on her cigarette first though, drawing some strength from the burning stick. "He has my brother, John." She said, trying to be strong, but it ended up in a broken whisper that she could barely get out. She quickly took another pull on her cigarette.

John just blinked. It all made sense now.

Rose tried to fight back the tears again, but felt them spill over as two strong arms encased her in their embrace. She hugged him back, holding on for all she was worth, tears streaming down her face once more. She let out a single quiet sob as she heard the three words leave his mouth with such strength, she couldn't help but draw on it.

"Not for long."