2023 Tropes & Fandoms: Square: 59/Chute - Negative Trope: Break Up

2023 MPF Tic Tac Toe: Square: Bottom Right - Prompt: Sherlock Holmes/Rose Tyler

The Trouble with (Mis)Deductions

Sherlock had just finished investigating a lead in the downtown business district for his current case when he happened to see his girlfriend on the other side of the busy street from where he stood.

Girlfriend...The word still sounded a bit foreign to him...as if it was in an entirely different language...and it still did not even come close to describing what the woman in question had actually come to mean to him. However, society seemed to need a label to describe their relationship and so...Girlfriend...it was.

At any rate, Rose Tyler was unexpectedly in his line of sight as she leaned casually against the fountain in the middle of the square there...and simply looked into its watery depths. To the ultra-observant Sherlock, it seemed as if she was having a nostalgic moment – perhaps as she remembered something from her extremely unique past.

He also noted that she looked very professional – especially since she was dressed in a smart business suit and had her hair twisted up in her usual "going to the office" style as opposed to her "going out into the field" ponytail or even his preferred down and disheveled "just got out of bed" look.

Sherlock found that train of thought so intriguing, however, that he had to force himself to shake it out of his head so he could refocus his attentions on his observations, instead. Rose usually had that effect on him, though...and he was almost used to the turbulence that she often caused to his otherwise very orderly mind.

Consequently, he realized very quickly that she also carried the expensive briefcase that he knew had been a gift from his own brother on her last birthday. From that, he deduced that she had probably just left a boring business meeting between Torchwood and one of the other branches of government that were always interested in the workings of her mysterious organization. In fact, she was probably on her way to the car park to pick up her vehicle when she got distracted...for whatever reason...by the fountain.

At any rate, his deductions led Sherlock to surmise that she would probably be quite famished – especially since she was usually too busy to eat while at the office. Since actually wanting to consider the needs of another person was also an amazing change that his Rose had wrought within him, he quickly decided that he should cross the street, kiss her thoroughly, and then take her to dinner.

In fact, he had just started to make his way across the crowded roadway with the kiss first and foremost on his mind - when he actually saw another man beat him to that very act, instead!

As he watched, a handsome dark-skinned fellow appeared in his line of sight. He also wore a sharp business suit and Sherlock could not help but to notice that he looked vaguely familiar for some reason. Yet, before he had time to delve into his Mind Palace to retrieve the memory, those details proved inconsequential in the grand scheme of things when the man ran up to his Rose, grabbed her excitedly, said something, and then twirled her around as he kissed her!

Sherlock waited expectantly for her to teach the guy a lesson for manhandling her, as he had seen her do so many times to others...for many different reasons...in the past. However, on this particular occasion, Rose just hugged the man affectionately instead. Therefore, Sherlock felt his heart...the one that Rose had somehow completely invaded despite all of his usual barriers and precautions...fall into his stomach as he reluctantly observed all of the signs that somehow screamed "Lovers!" to him.

Nevertheless, the detective was almost desperate to be proven wrong, so he continued to watch the couple for any sign that things were not as they seemed. Nevertheless, they simply stood there, hand-in-hand by the fountain, as they talked enthusiastically about whatever...until Sherlock decided that he had been correct and that he just could not take the sight any longer.

The detective then flipped up the collar of his coat, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked away in the opposite direction while a storm of confusion and dejection consumed his mind.

Why? he asked himself. What kind of game is she playing with me? Why would she pretend to be interested in me for the last six months and then do…this?

In fact, he was so consumed by unaccustomed doubt and misery that he never saw the pretty dark-skinned woman that joined the couple just a minute later or that Rose went through almost the exact same routine with the newcomer.

...

Later that evening, back at her flat, Rose frowned in extreme consternation. She had tried to contact Sherlock with no luck all afternoon – even though she had started calling and texting him just as soon as she had left the business district fountain in order to go out to dinner with Mickey and Martha. After all, she was so excited for her friends that she wanted to share the good news with her boyfriend...and tell him that he was also invited to the engagement party on the following weekend.

Even though they had two weeks, she did not know if she would be able to talk the reluctant-to-socialize detective into attending it or not, but she seriously hoped that he would agree. In fact, she thought that it was long overdue that he met the couple - especially Mickey, since he was her oldest friend in either universe. Plus, she had promised the man from the beginning that she would introduce him to the famous detective if they ever started to date seriously. Since she and Sherlock had been together for six months now, she felt that she had waited long enough to honor that promise.

Meeting Mickey and Martha was very important, but Rose knew that Sherlock really needed to meet some of her other friends, as well. The party would be the perfect place for that. After all, Rose had been single for so long that everyone was curious about the man who had finally met her seemingly impossible high standards for dating material. Plus, she really wanted to show off her gorgeous genius boyfriend to the other important people in her life.

Nevertheless, it continued to prove difficult to get him to cooperate with such a plan.

Sherlock did not seem to mind meeting her friends and colleagues when they ran across them on legitimate Torchwood business, but he still steadfastly refused to attend any engagements designed for the sole purpose of socialization. He had even managed to avoid meeting her parents so far, as well, even though he had been invited over to the Tyler mansion for dinner and/or tea on numerous occasions.

Rose thought that such obviously planned avoidance on his part was highly unfair, though - especially since she made a point of at least bimonthly dinners with his brother...either with or without him...and they had both been out with John and Mary several times, as well. Nevertheless, he still managed to seem unfazed whenever she tried to broach the subject of her friends and family with him. In fact, it never failed to annoy her.

At the current moment, however, she was more concerned about him than irritated - especially since he simply would not answer any messages she had sent to him. She was even starting to worry about his wellbeing a bit. She tried to rationalize away the behavior, since she could make an educated guess that he was probably just out on a case. After all, neither one of them kept normal hours...or had a normal job...so constant communication was not always possible between them. Therefore, even though she was beginning to feel concerned, she was still not really surprised that she had not heard from him, yet.

In fact, she had half-heartedly decided that he would probably just text her on the morrow whenever he finally wandered back to Baker Street. She realized that their discussion could wait until then. She just wished that she did not have such a strange feeling about the whole situation. After all, she was a trained empath in this new life of hers...and she had learned to pay attention to situations...and feelings... that others would choose to ignore.

...

Sherlock heard his phone faintly beep somewhere in the lounge again, but he did not know where he had thrown it, and...quite frankly...he did not really care. Instead, he focused on playing his violin and his chaotic feelings were mirrored in the very discordant sounds that the instrument produced at his hands. As he tried to play away his pain, he also attempted to resist the urge to find some cigarettes...or perhaps something even stronger...to help neutralize his negative emotions. Finally, he decided that what he really needed instead was a case.

In fact, he did not want just any case. He wanted...needed...something extremely challenging and preferably dangerous - anything to keep his mind off of Rose – and her betrayal. Finally, he realized what he would have to do. He threw his instrument carelessly down on his chair and went to the door where he proceeded to yell down the stairs for Mrs. Hudson.

"Yes, Sherlock dear, what's wrong?" she asked kindly.

He had been in such a terrible mood all evening that she could not but to wonder if he and that lovely Rose were doing alright. After all, that particular young lady had seemed to be so good at keeping Sherlock's black moods and danger nights at bay. In fact, his landlady could not remember the last time she had seen him act like this.

"Call my phone!" the man in question just demanded curtly, however, and shut the door hard behind him as he disappeared back into his flat.

Mrs. Hudson just shook her head at his rudeness. That man is completely insufferable sometimes, she thought. If something really has happened between him and Rose, I'm sure that it wasn't that dear girl's fault! In fact, it's really a miracle that things between them lasted as long as they did.

Nevertheless, the woman was still fond of the tenant who had become like a son to her and, therefore, did what he requested. Consequently, Sherlock was able to find his phone under the sofa when it rang. Upon retrieving it, he immediately sent a message to Mycroft. Ten minutes later, he received an answer and went into his bedroom to pack a small bag. In less than an hour, he was on a zeppelin headed out of the country. He told no one.

On the flight, he closed his eyes and deleted Rose's texts and voicemails without bothering to either read or listen to them.

Sherlock decided then that he was done with sentiment and that his initial outlook about feelings and emotions had been the correct one all along. After all, look where caring had got him! Moriarity may have threatened to burn the heart out of him, but ironically, it was Rose who had actually done it, instead. Consequently, Sherlock decided that he would regard the whole relationship situation as a failed experiment and move on with his life as if he had never met one Rose Tyler.

He hoped that would help him to deal with the unexpected pain, but somehow, he still knew that it would be easier said than done.

...

The next afternoon, Rose sat at her desk in the ISR Department at Torchwood and ignored the paperwork in front of her as full-fledged worry gnawed at her insides. After all, Sherlock still had not answered any of her texts or calls. She could only hope that meant that he was definitely on a difficult case and had simply lost track of time and everything else in his quest for answers. After all, it had happened before. The brilliant detective did have a tendency to get consumed by his work.

She hoped that was all there was to the situation. She really did. After all, she did not want to even consider the alternatives or the possibility that Sherlock would not or could not contact her for some other reason. However, she just could not shake the feeling that something was not right. Therefore, Rose decided that she would just stop by the Baker Street flat after work. Hopefully, the man would be there. If he was not, then she would take further action at that time.

The decision to act relieved her mind just enough that she was able to finish her paperwork on time, even though she had to switch on her mental auto pilot to achieve the feat. After all, the majority of her thoughts continued to stray back to the man that had come to mean so much... everything ...to her.

...

Unfortunately, Sherlock was not at Baker Street when she visited. In fact, Rose soon learned that Ms. Hudson had not seen him since the night before as she told Rose about his severely caustic behavior at that time. Therefore, the worry that Rose had experienced for the past twenty-four hours threatened to expand into full-blown panic as she wondered what could have happened to upset the man who usually had such careful control over his emotions.

Why did he not tell me about it and ask for my help? Rose could not help but to wonder. Was the situation bad enough that he might have slipped into the darkness and turned back to some of his old destructive habits? Was that why he had gone off the grid?

Rose fretted about the possibilities and worst case scenarios all the way back to her flat where, even though she did not want to worry him, she called John. After all, she knew that he cared about Sherlock as much as she did.

That turned out to be a dead end, as well, though, since John had not seen or heard from the man, either. Nevertheless, Sherlock would sometimes disappear for days at the time when they were flatmates and the detective was on a particularly difficult or challenging case. Therefore, the doctor would not have been terribly concerned about such behavior - if it had not been for Rose.

John had noticed the change in his best friend when it came to that woman and now he honestly believed that the detective would never have let the most important person in is life worry about his absence for so long...not unless something was indeed very, very wrong. Therefore, he did his best to reassure her that he would check out some of Sherlock's old haunts and let her know if he found anything.

Rose thanked him for being such a good friend (to both of them) before she ended their call. Then, in desperation - even as she wondered why she had not done it sooner - she picked up the phone and immediately called the one person who was sure to know his brother's whereabouts at any given point in time.

...

Even though the sight would have raised Mycroft's spirits in any other situation, the man actually sighed in resignation instead when he saw that it was Rose who had called his personal phone. Even though he had come to terms with his feelings for her...and despite her connection with his brother...he usually still enjoyed speaking with the fascinating woman and always made time to do so when she called. It did not take a man of his intelligence, however, to understand the reason behind her current call and he knew that he definitely did not want to get involved in whatever mess his brother had recently made of their relationship. Therefore, on this one occasion, Mycroft answered the phone only with the greatest reluctance.

However, once he heard the fear in the woman's voice on the other end, he knew what he had to do. Even though he knew it was a distinct possibility that the truth might hurt her further in the long run, he cared too much about her to let her needlessly worry over the rash actions of his obviously inconsiderate younger brother. Therefore, even as he silently cursed Sherlock in his mind for placing him in such a position, he immediately told Rose what she needed to know.

The simple truth of the matter was that Sherlock had contacted him two days previously and had asked for a job that required him to leave London immediately. He also let her know that his wayward brother would be incommunicado for at least two more days, but that he should be back home to Baker Street on the third day...if all went well. He also assured her, that as far as he knew, Sherlock was in no immediate danger.

Rose thanked him for the information...and his friendship...in an uncharacteristically quiet and subdued tone that was far from her usual cheerful demeanor. Therefore, it was clear to Mycroft that she was in a bit of shock at the news that Sherlock had left the city voluntarily without letting her know. There was even a bit of an unfamiliar ache in his own heart as he recognized that she was probably in a type of pain that he just could not comfort...or even micromanage away...especially since it had been caused by his own brother. Consequently, he just mentally cursed Sherlock again as he warmly assured the woman that he would be nearby if she needed him for anything else.

...

Two days later, after the delicate international job had been handled and he had acquired the information that his brother needed, Sherlock contacted Mycroft with the details. Afterwards, however, the elder Holmes brother made a point to inform him of Rose's panicked phone call just a couple of days earlier. Even though the man kept all trace of emotion out of his voice, Sherlock was still acutely aware that Mycroft was angry with him over the situation.

Why would that be the case if Rose was obviously the one at fault? The detective wondered as he was suddenly struck with the mostly unfamiliar feelings of uncertainty and remorse.

What if I was wrong?

Sherlock did not have long to ponder that disturbing possibility, however, because the woman herself was sitting in her usual chair...obviously waiting for him...when he finally arrived back on Baker Street the following day. The instant he saw the hurt in her eyes, Sherlock knew instinctively that as unlikely as it was, he had indeed somehow been mistaken about what had happened...about what he had seen...on the street that day.

After all, his Rose was normally cool and confident under pressure. However, he saw how this Rose struggled to hold back her emotions as she stood up to face him. He felt an uncharacteristic pain when he realized that he had caused that hurt within her.

"What…the…hell, Sherlock?" she still forced herself to speak slowly and calmly, however.

The man did not know what to say or how to justify what he had been so sure about before...so he actually told her the truth. "I realize now that I may have…overreacted," he replied hesitantly.

"Oh, do you think so?" That came out a bit more sarcastically than Rose had meant for it to, but she was beyond caring about her tone at that point. "Why? Just why? Can you tell me that?" she asked, instead. "Why would you disappear without a word, leave me alone with no information, and no way to even reassure myself that you were even still alive? After all, I know the kind of dangerous situations that you get into, Sherlock. Therefore, how could I not worry about you? How could you do that to me…to us?"

Again, Sherlock floundered for an answer before he decided on the simple, unvarnished truth.

"I…saw…the kiss…on the street…and the signs all pointed to you being…lovers." He said, as he slowly realized just how completely inane the whole thing sounded when he actually said it out loud, no matter what it had seemed like at the time.

Rose knew instantly that he referred to the excited greeting that Mickey had given her when he told her about his engagement. After all, she had not seen Sherlock since that day. "Yeah," she therefore said softly with her eyes closed tight. "There might have been signs…"

For the second time that conversation, Sherlock did know what to say as he stood there in shock at her answer. He had thought that she was going to deny it – not confirm his worst fears instead! He felt his heart clench tight again, but before he could react to her words and her apparent admittance of guilt...her eyes flew open. He could not help but to be amazed at the fire that burned there...how beautiful she was even in her anger...as she finished her statement.

"Yeah, there might have been signs...eight years ago – back when I was nineteen in the old universe! However, I will have you know that there has not been one single person…not one lover in my bed since then. Not one...except for you! "

Sherlock was so shocked by the unexpected revelation that he could barely speak, "Not even…" he managed to croak as he instantly thought of the one he knew he could never replace, no matter how hard he tried.

"No…not even the Doctor!" exclaimed Rose and she blinked fiercely as the fire was washed away by the sudden tears that threatened to fall. However, this time they were not for the alien that she had once loved and lost. No, this time they were inspired by the very human man in front of her.

"All you had to do was ask, Sherlock. Instead, you automatically assumed the worst of me. Why? Why would you think that I would do something like that to you? How does such an observant man not know that I...that I feel..." Her words broke off as she choked back a sob. "I thought…I thought that you and me were…I thought that we had...Well, I obviously got it wrong!"

With that acknowledgement, she lost control for the first time in years. After all, she had not felt such pain since she had once stood in front of a blank white wall and then, three months later, on a beach with a hologram. However, she soon found that she could fight it no longer and the tears flowed freely. Rose practically ran out of the door, then, and down the stairs. She did not even acknowledge Mrs. Hudson's concerned query behind her as she stormed out of 221B Baker Street for what she assumed was probably the last time ever.

"Sherlock?" Ms. Hudson asked the man, who still stood stunned in the doorway at the top of the stairs. "Don't you think you should…?" as she gestured to the door.

"I…don't know." he replied hesitantly. "I don't think she wants to talk to me!"

"Was it your fault?" the older woman asked forcefully. Sherlock nodded without hesitation. There was no doubt about that anymore. "Were you wrong?" He nodded again and this time the guilt and remorse were clear on his face. "Then go apologize to her," she demanded. After all, she was well aware of the man's questionable interpersonal skills and she recognized the probable fact that he really did not know what to do in this particular kind of situation.

Sherlock did not answer. He just let instinct take over and he ran down the stairs and out the door. However, it was too late. Rose was nowhere to be seen.

He immediately took a cab to her flat, but she was not there. He also went over to Amy and Rory's, but they had not seen her, either. He called Molly with no luck, as well, but she at least said that she would ask some of their mutual acquaintances. Sherlock then cursed himself for refusing to meet more of her friends or her family when she had asked him to do so. If he had just accepted at least some of those invitations, he would never have been in this situation. He would be able to talk to more people, find out who she could be with. Better yet, he would have known who Mickey was the entire time...and none of this would have ever happened. He finally knew then that he was absolutely and completely at fault...and exactly how much he had let the woman he cared about most down.

Rose had not burned his heart out, after all. He had done it himself. However, even worse than that, he had hurt her in the process, as well.

Finally, he called John as he hoped that maybe...just maybe...she went there to seek comfort with Mary. Hopefully, she was still there in the Watsons' lounge as she drank tea and cursed his name while she and Mary planned some kind of painful revenge. He hoped so. He really did. At least then he would know where she was.

However, when he finally spoke to John, that particular hope was crushed, too. Neither John nor Mary had seen or heard from Rose. In fact, John was livid with Sherlock for hurting her in the first place when the man attempted to explain. After all, he knew how worried Rose had been, and how worried that had made him, as well. Sherlock had ruined everything by jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst about the best thing...the best person...who had ever happened to him.

"You're supposed to be the great detective," John growled into the phone. "Find her. Make it right!"

Then he disconnected and left Sherlock to stare in disbelief at his mobile until he dropped it and sunk his head into his hands to lose himself in self-recrimination, instead. He was not used to having to take responsibility for his actions or think about how those actions affected others. However, he was certainly learning the hard way at the moment that what he did directly affected those to whom he was the closest – like Rose.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he lifted his head and finally dialed Mycroft's number in desperation. The elder Holmes brother just sighed in consternation when he saw the caller ID on his mobile, however. He knew that it was time for the fallout he had anticipated...had actively dreaded...ever since Rose had called him in search of his brother several days previously. He hesitated before he answered, though, since he really did not want to get involved in whatever had soured in their relationship. After all, there were some parts of his brother's life...especially those that involved Rose...that he did not monitor or track - for his own sanity. Nevertheless, he still gave in and answered after several rings. He found that he simply cared too much for Sherlock to do otherwise.

He then listened carefully to his brother's seemingly calm request. However, Mycroft was more observant than most and consequently could hear the uncharacteristic tremor of emotion in his Sherlock's voice. That's when he gave in and promised to do what he could. Nevertheless, he still sighed again as he disconnected the call and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to ward off the headache that he knew from experience was on the way.

He also knew that, at one time, he would have relished the news that Sherlock had bollocksed things up so badly with Rose that she had left him. However, he could not deny what the past six months had meant to his brother, and try as he might, he just could not gloat about the situation. Even though his feelings had not changed towards the woman...nor did he expect them to do so anytime soon...he no longer wished to take her away from Sherlock. His little brother needed her too much. She obviously balanced him in a way that nobody else had ever been able to do. Therefore, Mycroft just sighed again and set about to fulfill Sherlock's request.

Consequently, twenty minutes later he was able to text the younger Holmes back with an address and added a "Good Luck!" message at the last minute.

He even found that he actually meant it, too.

After she had run away from Sherlock, Rose hopped into her Land Rover and drove away from Baker Street practically blinded by the tears in her eyes. She had always worried about losing the man, but she never thought that it would be for such a reason – that he would think that she was capable of cheating on him. After all, how could she ever want another man when she was with him? How did he not know how she felt about him? She thought she meant more to him than that...that they meant more...and that was what hurt the most.

In that moment, he reminded her of the Doctor in all of the worst ways. In fact, that terrible situation in France came to mind immediately...and Rose was hit by a double dose of heartache at the comparison.

Rose was consumed by such dark thoughts that she just drove and drove until she realized that she was already out of the city. All of a sudden, she realized where she had subconsciously been heading all along.

It's just as well, she thought – especially since she was obviously not up to seeing anyone anytime soon…and that probably meant for the next couple of days, as well.

Therefore, she called Pete, and without going into particulars, told him that she was taking the weekend off. She then told him where she was going – just in case there was an emergency – but asked him not to tell anybody – not even her mother. She just did not think that she could deal with Jackie's thoughts on the matter - especially since the woman was still upset about the Sherlock's continued refusal to meet the family.

Pete, however, knew immediately that something was wrong since Rose never requested time away from work. Her insistence that her location be kept a secret just made it more obvious. Therefore, he guessed that it probably had to do with that detective fellow that she had been seeing.

Unfortunately, he also knew that matters of the heart were not his area of expertise. After all, he was married to an alternate universe's version of his dead wife. Nevertheless, he really cared about the girl who had truly become his daughter in every way that mattered. Therefore, he did not ask any awkward questions. However, he did make her a compromise.

"I'll keep Jacks off your back as long as I can," he told her, "but you should really be back at Torchwood by Monday."

Her quiet "Thanks, Dad!" before she disconnected touched his heart...especially since she usually just called him Pete...and he sincerely hoped that she would be able to use the peace and quiet in the country in order to figure things out.

...

For his part, as soon as he got off of the phone with his brother, Sherlock grabbed the same bag that he had brought home with him from his poorly rationalized escape. He then immediately left the flat again to collect the car that his brother had arranged for him. He paused only long enough to inform Mrs. Hudson that he was going after Rose. Just as Mycroft had, she earnestly wished him luck as she accompanied him to the door.

As soon as possible, he was in the driver's seat of the hired car and headed out of city. That was unusual, in and of itself. After all, even though he was perfectly capable of doing so, he did not usually drive. He just did not need to because transportation was plentiful in the city and John had always preferred to drive whenever they had to go into the country for a case. In fact, Mycroft had offered to send one of his own cars and drivers to pick him up for that very reason.

However, Sherlock knew that this was an extremely sensitive matter that he needed to handle on his own. He had already caused enough trouble, and all he wanted to do was to get to Rose as quickly as he could...to explain...to beg, if need be...for her forgiveness. Therefore, he disregarded the speed limits as he headed out to the countryside as quickly as possible. He could only hope that it was a good sign that he was not been stopped by law enforcement by the time he pulled up to the small cottage at the address in the middle of nowhere that Mycroft had provided for him.

...

Rose had become found of Pete's cute little country house when she had spent time there to privately recuperate from her devastating loss after the final goodbye with her Doctor at Bad Wolf Bay meant that part of her old life was well and truly over. It was also where she had gathered her courage and determination to move forward with her new life on Pete's World rather than become mired in a past that was no longer available to her in any possible way.

That decision to continue onward...to live...was one that she had never regretted, either.

Therefore, Rose had determined that it was also the perfect place to contend with her current heartbreak, as well. Hopefully, a little time there, away from the city and the memories of another apparently lost part of her life, would help her to move forward once again.

At least that had been the plan until the unexpected happened and Sherlock Holmes himself turned up on her doorstep.

...

"What are you doing here, Sherlock?" Rose asked, both wary and weary, when she went to answer the door and saw who stood there. After all, it was hard to start to heal from a fresh heartbreak when the cause of it was standing right in front of you. Therefore, she pulled her emotionally compartmentalized Agent 'No Nonsense' Tyler persona around her tightly...like a security blanket buffer for her personal feelings...as she waited for his response.

For his part, Sherlock observed her as she leaned against the doorway tiredly in a way that had always signaled to him before that she had not slept, eaten, or taken care of herself the way she should have done so. Plus, her tone, usually so full and vibrant, was flat and emotionless as she spoke to him. Not only that, but her red-rimmed eyes were a definite sign that she had been crying.

In short, his Rose was miserable...and Sherlock knew that it was all because of him...every bit of it. He felt physically ill about the hurt he had caused her...just as he had when he knew that Moriarity was going after everyone he cared about...unless he ended it all with a fall.

As he looked at her, Sherlock also knew at that moment...just like he had back then...that in order to make it right...he would have to jump. He would have to take a leap of faith again...but this time it would be for Rose.

After his moment of silent observation and contemplation, however, he still had not said anything. Therefore, Rose simply sighed in resignation and went to shut the door...only for it to be intercepted at the last moment by Sherlock's hand. Then, as she watched, all of his emotional barriers finally...for fear of losing her entirely...fell down directly in front of her.

"Rose!" he murmured emphatically. "I know I...I'm…new...at this. After all, I've always tried to keep my emotions in check because they cloud logic. I've always assumed that caring was a dangerous disadvantage...that sentiment was a weakness. I was right, too, as this...incident...proved. However,…" he paused before he finally admitted something to her...and to himself, even as his voice and his belief in his words became more confident in their truth.

"I have since realized that a weakness does not necessarily need to be defined as something undesirable. A weakness can be a good thing...a great thing...even despite the fact that it makes you weak. After all, you, Rose Tyler, have become my greatest weakness. That's why my logic, my good sense, and my judgement were all clouded when I misunderstood what I saw. Had anyone else been involved, I could have seen it clearly for what it was and would have known exactly what had happened. Because it was you, though, it was impossible for me to see past the pain in order to see the truth of the matter. I have to tell you that I don't like that...I don't like having a chink in my armor...an Achilles' heel...but I do like you. In fact, it needs to be said that, with the storm of chaos that only you inspire in me, I can only deduce that...I..." here he paused again before he admitted the truth of the matter aloud for the first time. "I love you, Rose Tyler!"

Upon hearing those words...that words that had been denied to her before...the oh-so-important words that she knew she needed to hear even more now than she had then, Rose's careful composure crumpled around her. The emotional security blanket fell away, tears clouded her sight, and her body longed to throw itself in his arms. However, she held herself back. She had to be sure.

"Are you just saying that because you think it's what I want to hear?" she asked...and she hated the fear she heard in her own voice at that moment, but she could not deny that it was a valid concern. After all, Sherlock was very good at getting what he wanted.

Even if her heart and body thrilled at the idea that what he apparently wanted was her, she had to know that he was not manipulating her emotions in order to achieve his own agenda. She hated to think that way about him, but she had seen him do so with others before when it came down to solving a case.

Sherlock, never the best at empathy, still felt her concern anyway, and rushed to relieve it as he removed the hand that was blocking the door in order to reach up to touch her face, instead. "I know that I am guilty of many things, but I've never lied to you, Rose," he admitted gently, "and I will not start now. I love you and I am afraid...terrified...to lose the light you bring into my life. It's as simple...as elementary...as that." Then, he paused before he added, "Plus, we both know that all you have to do is touch me to know that I mean it."

Rose nodded her understanding of what he wanted her to do. Even though she did not want to test him with her abilities...which was why she usually kept them as muted as possible around him...she realized that it was important...necessary, even...for both of them that she actually do so at the present time. Therefore, she opened up and leaned even more into his hand as she reached up and touched it with her own, as well. With that physical connection, it only took a moment for her to feel that everything he said was the absolute truth. After all, his sincerity and affection, his fear and...yes...his love, simply poured out into his touch.

Rose's heart swelled with the knowledge that he did indeed feel the same way about her that she felt about him. After all, she had not been sure about it until that very moment. "Elementary, huh?" she therefore asked lightly to give herself a moment to process her happiness at the discovery. However, a smile still found its way through her unshed tears to add the dawning light of hope...for them...to her face as she moved her hand from his in order to touch his handsome visage, as well.

"So completely and absolutely elementary!" he agreed as he returned her smile with one of his own, also full of hope, as she gently stroked his cheek.

"Well, I guess it's a very good thing then I happen to love you, too, then!" she replied with as straight of a face as she could manage as her small smile rushed to transform into his favorite tongue-touched grin and the tears that had been threatening to fall from her eyes finally did so.

A rare feeling of joy infused Sherlock...and, therefore, flowed through Rose, as well...at hearing those words from her. They were words he never knew he wanted, much less needed. However, when she said them, something irrevocably shifted within him and he knew that he would never be the same...and that he would never be able to let her go again, either.

Therefore, he grabbed her and kissed her desperately as she reacted to their shared emotion by pulling him as quickly as she could into the cottage. He managed to fumble behind him and slam the door shut right before they made their way to the bedroom. They never separated or stopped kissing, however. They just removed their clothing as they went and left them on the floor where they fell.

The actual act of make-up sex...combined with admitting-their-feelings-aloud lovemaking...was as wonderful as they had always heard it could be.

Rose and Sherlock decided to stay in the country for the weekend, away from London and all of the distractions there. After all, in the cottage it was just the two of them. Therefore, after a quick text to everyone who might have been worried, otherwise, they were able to spend the rest of the time to focus on each other entirely and heal the cracks in their relationship that Sherlock's unfortunate misdeduction had brought to light.

One of those fractures that they both currently agreed upon was that Sherlock needed to meet more of Rose's people. Therefore, when her phone rang in the bedroom while she was in the shower preparing for their return to London, Sherlock squared his shoulders and moved forward with his resolution to seal up that particular weak spot as he answered it himself.

To their mutual surprise, the caller turned out to be Mickey.

"I screwed up...and I am trying to make it up to her," Sherlock admitted despite the awkwardness of it all after their initial greeting when Mickey asked him why Rose had been unreachable for the entire weekend. After all, even though Rose had forgiven him, Sherlock still wanted to make things completely right and who better to know that than her best friend?

Fortunately, Mickey was sympathetic. After all, he had known Rose for their entire lives and was able to impart some much needed advice to the detective who was apparently new at relationships. "Good for you, Mate. I know that our Rose can be as stubborn as they come, but she has a heart of gold...and when she loves, she loves with that entire heart. I know you've heard her history because she told me that she's been completely honest with you about everything. Therefore, that's all she expects in return from you. Honesty and Trust. Once that's in place, everything else that follows is a lot easier. However, since Amy told me you were in a right state when you couldn't find Rose over at the flats, I'm guessing that the fact you haven't yet met me...or Jackie and Pete...or some of the others who could have helped you, is part of the problem, yeah?"

"That's quite the deduction," Sherlock admitted reluctantly.

"Not really, Mate." Mickey laughed goodnaturedly. "I just know our girl. Because she has lost so much, her friends and family...and now you...mean the world...No!...the universe...to her. Everyone else already knows that. You just need to let her know that you do, too!"

Then, Mickey issued him an invitation to his engagement party with the news that all of Rose's closest friends would be there...as well as her parents. After all, because of their unique shared past, Rose's family was Mickey's family, too.

"Therefore, it's the perfect time to show her that you mean it," the other man advised.

Sherlock found that he could not disagree with such sound logic and, therefore, accepted both the invitation and the guidance. After that, they disconnected the call on much more cordial terms than Sherlock could have ever imagined having with someone else who had also once been in a relationship with Rose. That did not seem to matter, however, particularly since the man was engaged to be married to someone else. In fact, he could not help but to think about how Mickey reminded him so much of John, who had been his own anchor in the storm of life for the last several years. Therefore, he found...much to his surprise...that he would not even mind knowing him better.

Rose was right. I really should have met him before now, Sherlock admitted to himself as the woman reentered the bedroom, still damp from her shower.

When he told her to whom he had been speaking and that he would be attending the party with her on the following weekend, he was rewarded handsomely for his efforts at socialization. After all, to express her gratitude at his willingness to move out of his comfort zone for her, Rose joyfully threw off her towel and rejoined him back in the bed.

Later, after they finally bid a reluctant farewell to the peaceful cabin that had helped them to salvage their relationship, Rose followed him in the Land Rover until Sherlock returned his hired car to the nearest hub. It was then that they realized that they would not arrive to London until much later than they had originally anticipated. Therefore, since Rose had to be at work early while his schedule was much more open, Sherlock offered to drive her vehicle back to the city while she napped as comfortably as possible in the reclined passenger seat.

The implied trust, and the obvious domesticity, of such an arrangement was not lost on Sherlock, however, when she easily agreed. Neither was the previously-dreaded-but-now-completely-welcome sentiment that he felt in the core of his being whenever he glanced over to check on his beautiful and peaceful passenger.

Consequently, even though he never wanted it to happen again, for just that once, he found that he was actually grateful for the trouble that his misdeduction had caused. After all, it had brought him and Rose even closer together than they had been before, so that they could experience...and he could enjoy...even more moments like the one he was in.