One Day

Two - Afternoon

Sherlock and Rosie had time to kill, as Sherlock didn't return to his normal life until early the next morning. They decided to take a stroll around London, giving Sherlock a sneak preview of the new skyscrapers that would soon tower over his own London. Rosie could sense that he was disorientated, confused and lost as the streets he knew like the back of his hand began to wind and bend in strange shapes that he couldn't recognise. She introduced the important new sights, and pointed out the old ones in the jumble of steel and glass. Sherlock was taken aback when she slightly snuggled into his side as the walked. He marvelled at how natural the movement seemed to be to her, and how at ease she was. It made him wonder about his life to come and think about what part he'd play in the story of her life.

"I know you have questions." She said nonchalantly as they strolled through Westminster. "I'll answer as best I can without too many spoilers."

"Now I'm here, I don't really know what to ask." Sherlock admitted, brow furrowed in concentration.

"I understand. I guess part of you doesn't want to know." She replied. Sherlock had his arms hanging limply by his side as he walked. He'd borrowed a coat from the current Sherlock's wardrobe and it somehow made him seem more real to Rosie, more like the man she knew. Overcome by emotion, she stepped closer and snaked one arm around his as they walked, linking them at the elbows. Her heart almost broke when his first instinct was to try and pull back.

"Sorry." She mumbled. "I forgot for a moment that you're still young."

"No, I'm sorry, it's just I'm new to this and I don't have the first idea what I'm doing." He babbled nervously. Fear was rising in his chest as he began to fully comprehend how much he'd come to influence Rosie. He didn't know how to be a father figure or how to guide her through life. He'd only just managed it himself. Rosie was taken aback by his rushed voice and the honest admission.

"It's alright." She told him softly. "It was my mistake. I'll back off a little, okay?"

Sherlock nodded slightly at her words and they drifted back into line, side by side, with years unlived pushing a gap between them. Her kindness had touched a nerve and he took another look at her. The midday sun made her curls glow golden, the light bouncing from them in a halo. A small, contented smile stretched across her lips and it didn't take long for Sherlock to recognise it as John's own happy smirk.

"You turned out just like your father." Sherlock smiled fondly.

"I think I got a few things from you as well." Rosie informed him, returning his gaze.

"Oh?"

Rosie gestured across the street. "That woman in the red top has a cheating husband with unaddressed commitment issues and the only reason she hasn't yet divorced him is due to the dispute of who would get custody of their three corgis."

Sherlock snorted a laugh. "Sounds about right."

They walked in contented silence for a while, Rosie taking in the beauty of the the city she loved, while Sherlock catalogued and filed away all the changes he came across.

"I've thought of a question." He said suddenly, breaking Rosie from her reverie.

"Yes?"

"Have you had a good life?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes, definitely." She replied. "I mean, everyone has their ups and downs, it's part of being human, but there's been much more good to outweigh the bad."

Sherlock nodded, satisfied. "Have people been good to you?"

Her face fell slightly. "Not everyone."

Sherlock stared down at her sympathetically with wide, sad eyes. He knew that face, and exactly how she felt. He must have had more of an influence on her personality than he'd first suspected. Part of him broke when he entertained the idea that it could be his own fault that she was hurting.

"It's okay. Nobody can be liked by everybody." She told Sherlock gently, seeing the guilt and sadness in his eyes. Sherlock smiled gratefully, but he knew the whole thing was wrong. He should be comforting her, not the other way around.

"I never had a proper friend until I met your dad." Sherlock admitted quietly. "It will get better, even if part of you thinks it won't."

Rosie stared at him in shock. She could already see him changing to become the father she knew and loved. The father who would pull her close to his chest when she cried, the father who could always deduce her problem without her saying a word, the father who was more loving and caring and affectionate then he would ever care to admit. She almost sobbed when he slipped his arm around hers and linked them closely together.