Poison & Wine//A BBC Sherlock fanfic

Then

Then

Everything was blissfully perfect.

Sherlock had left hospital a few days later and had returned back to University. The news of his overdose had gotten around the area but no-one had confronted him about it. Why would they? Many of them didn't care about him or the life he lead. There was one exception to that, though.

Ever since he had left hospital Cosette had been hanging out with him. She enjoyed his company and the way he could deduce things about people just with a single look. Her friends constantly warned her about him, always saying that he was bad news, that he was a druggie who was just using her, but she held firm to the belief that he would not cave.

"'E promised zat 'e would stop," she would tell them stubbornly, her chin stuck out and her arms crossed. "E made a promise and 'e will keep eet. And 'e is not using me. 'E ees my friend."

And he was her friend. They spent time together studying in the library or her room. Sherlock had taught her a little about Chemistry and now she was able to quote the first fifty elements of the periodic table off by heart, something that made her smile with pride and him roll his eyes. In return she had taught him about the history of both her country and his, telling him about the French Revolution and the War of the Roses and many other things. Any new information she told him he would drink in (whether or not he actually kept that information, she didn't know, but it still made her feel happy knowing that he was learning a thing or two about the subject she was so fond of). Sometimes they would go out to a cafe for lunch (Cosette had come to notice that he was not a very big eater. However he did seem to enjoy banoffe pie). Other times they would just sit outside, Sherlock smoking while she would read. Every once and awhile she would glance up at him from her book and spend a moment just watching him blow the smoke from his mouth and out into the air, cigarette hanging lazily from one hand. She would take in his long, slender fingers and his wiry arm, honey-gold eyes trailing over his shoulder and up his neck to his jaw. She had learnt so much about him in those past few weeks hanging out with him. Although he was still a little stony and didn't open up much, there were some things he was willing to tell her, like information about his family.

"You've already met Mycroft," he had said once after she had asked. "He works for the Government which isn't good for his ego. My sister and I both agree that he's turned into the biggest git in England."

"You 'ave a seester?" Cosette exclaimed, quite surprised and a little jealous. She had always wanted another sibling, especially a sister, but obviously that wasn't possible due to her mother's fertility problems.

"Teddy. She's sixteen, still lives with my parents which is something she constantly complains about. Her and Father don't get along. He calls it being protective of his only daughter, she calls it invasion of privacy and pure and simply control over her life," Sherlock had told her, chuckling after. "As if anyone can control Teddy."

"You two sound very similar," Cosette had laughed, crossing her legs and leaning forward slightly.

"God, no. No, Teddy's much more human than Mycroft and I. She understands human emotions because she has them. I, however, do not."

"I do not believe you," Cosette had replied, shaking her head. "I theenk you do 'ave emotions, Sherlock 'Olmes, you just do not want anyone else to know zat."

Sherlock had shrugged, eyes meeting hers before flicking away to look up at the sky.

"That's something an ordinary person would say."

"Zat 'ees who I am. I am ordinary."

"No," Sherlock had replied, looking at her. He didn't add anything else after that and so the pair continued to read and smoke without another word.

It wasn't just Cosette who was learning about Sherlock, though. It was the opposite, too. In those past few weeks Sherlock had learnt more about Cosette's life in better detail, learning information about her that simple deductions would not be able to pick up.

"There ess my mother, Margot, 'Oo makes dresses for a living, and my father, Louis. 'E 'ess a chef, trained in ze art of cake-making and decorating. My mother ess quite a firm and strong woman 'Oo- 'ow does ze expression go?-'wears ze trousers in ze family'? Oui , I theenk zat is correct. My mother 'as always been zat way while my father ess a sweet and caring man. I remember when I was younger, eef I wanted something I would always go to my father because 'e would always say yes. It was a little 'arder to convince mother," Cosette had told Sherlock as they hung out in her room, Sherlock flicking through her books while she spoke from her seat on her bed. Sherlock had chuckled, placing a book back in its place before moving onto another.

"Your parents sound nice enough," he had said. "My father is quite strict. Teddy compares him to Mr Darling from Peter Pan."

"Oh, poor Teddy," Cosette had giggled. "If she likes she can 'ave my father. We can share him, like seesters."

"You have no siblings," Sherlock had replied. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Oui, my parents 'ad trouble trying to bring children into zis world. I was zeir miracle child."

"'Miracle child'," Sherlock had repeated, his lips quirking upwards slightly before falling once more. Cosette had grinned, watching the tall British man rifle through her books as though he were a puppy sniffing through her objects in curiosity.

Everything was perfect, and yet Cosette still couldn't help but feel a little sad. Although she loved being in his company she could tell that his feelings for her were mutual, were nothing more than friendship. She wished he would look at her the way her friend's boyfriends would look at them. She wished he would touch her, hold her hand, kiss her. She was too frightened to make the first move, afraid that it would chase him off. Becoming his friend had been difficult enough, to try and start a relationship with the man? Virtually impossible! This knowledge- like a little rain on her parade- did not affect her too badly. She counted her blessings that she was able to spend time with her, that she seemed to be having a slight effect on him. He had cut down on the smokes, thank God, and had even joined her a few times whenever she would go out with her other friends (he would hang around her the whole time, though, and only answer in short, sharp sentences when spoken to. Still, though, at least he wouldn't offend them while they were there. At least he would save his deductions until they were in a cab). It didn't really matter that they were not more than friends, just as long as they were friends. This was all that mattered to Cosette. They had- once-touched on the topic of love very briefly, when Cosette had been feeling a little brave.

"Sherlock?"

"Mmm?"

"Do... do you think you would ever love anyone?"

"I..." Sherlock had frowned, his eyebrows drawn together and his eyes lowered. Cosette had waited, had held her breathe, had hoped that he would say what her ears wanted to hear.

"No. No, love is a.. caring... caring and love, they are both the same. They are both disadvantages. I do not like being at a disadvantage. So no."

Cosette hadn't replied, her heart a little low at hearing this information. She had expected it but still she had hoped. Hope was something that was hard to destroy, hard to control. Even when you knew that the odds were not in your favor you still hoped that they were.

Eet 'ees okay, though, Cosette had thought afterwards. You two are friends, are you not? Zat is good, Cosette. Zat is very good. Be grateful you 'ave 'zat. Zat 'ees enough for you. 'Is company, 'is friendship, zat 'ees enough.

And it was. Her feelings for him could stay where they were. She would rather have his friendship than nothing at all. For her, that was all she needed from him. That was enough.

Author Note: Lucky Cosette, it seems that Sherlock has deemed her worthy enough for his time (but not his love). Oh, well. If I could I would tell Cosette to cherish these little, lovely moments, because it's gonna get a little shaky from here on out...