It Could be You

Chapter 16

Sherlock stepped into Speedy's café a little before 2:00. The chairs had already been put up on the tables, and a trim figure in an apron holding a broom had his back to him. Carter called over his shoulder, "We're closing, sorry!"

Sherlock stood still with his hands behind his back and waited. He'd donned his Belstaff and scarf before leaving the flat in order to give himself one more layer of protection. Carter straightened his back and finally turned around. He beamed in welcome causing Sherlock's stomach to plummet to the ground.

"Sherlock," he said putting the broom down and crossing the distance to the front of the café. Sherlock thought he might have to endure a welcome hug and braced himself for it. But Carter bypassed him and said, "Hang on."

He moved over to the door and locked it. He turned the "open" sign over to "closed."

"Now we won't be disturbed," he said conspiratorially.

The bolt hit home with a finality Sherlock did not like. He observed the deserted café and noted the utter stillness of the place. "Jenny not here?" he asked trying to keep his voice neutral.

"No, Jenny called in sick this morning. She asked me to fill in for her."

"Did she?" Sherlock asked.

"I texted you," Carter said.

"I know," Sherlock began. He had received three texts from Carter. The first had been "Good morning, Handsome." The second had been, "I got one raging fire under control, but last night's slow burn might just set off another." And finally, "I guess you're on a case. Stop by the shop. I'm on shift today till 2:00." Sherlock hadn't responded to any of them. Perhaps he'd sent Ian by to see why.

"That was considerate of you, especially since you were out all night," Sherlock said. They were a few feet apart, and Sherlock felt it important to keep the buffer of space between them. He didn't want to give Carter any reason to believe they might still have a chance at intimacy, but something else told him to keep his distance.

Carter sensed his hesitancy and his smile faltered. "You okay?" he asked.

Here it was, Sherlock thought. The point where he said, "No I'm not. We can't see each other anymore."

Carter's stunned look told him he'd said it out loud.

"What?" said moving toward Sherlock both hands up in a supplicating gesture. The detective felt an instinctive need to take a step back. Keep his distance.

"My circumstances have changed," Sherlock began. "While I've enjoyed the time I've spent with you, I can't in good conscience continue our relationship."

"What do you mean, In good conscience?" Carter asked his voice taking on a sharper edge.

Sherlock wondered if this is what John meant by the phrase out of control. He dropped his eyes not wanting to look at the mixture of hurt and anger on Carter's face. His hand dropped into his coat pocket, and he felt his phone. He'd learned the art of pocket dialing during his many flirtations with danger while working on his cases. He'd often had to text or call for help away from prying eyes. He speed dialed John's phone and texted the words "not going well." He'd let this play out a bit longer, but he already felt overwhelmed by the intensity of Carter's emotions.

"I-I mean I've developed feelings for someone else," Sherlock tried again. In the world he inhabited, he had no experience with this. His protective shield had helped him to navigate the world of sex and romance without ever having had to endure this. He'd always been the one dumped. And as painful as that had been, this was worse.