Title: Three Simple Words

Disclaimer: I do not own Elementary.

...

Joan awoke to the sound of... silence. She blinked a couple of times and wiped at her eyes. Sitting up in her bed she glanced at her alarm clock. It was nearing 9:30 AM and for the first time in forever she had not been awakened by Sherlock. Feeling puzzled she slowly slipped out from the warm covers and walked out of her room, bare feet padding across the hardwood floor. She made her way down the stairs to find an empty living room and kitchen.

She listened for any sort of sounds but found none. Sherlock had most likely gone out. She tried to ignore the pain in her heart at the thought of him leaving without her. No matter, she'd have some coffee, some breakfast, maybe even go for a run. She'd meant to set her alarm for six this morning in order to go for a jog but had forgotten. She tried not to think about the gaping hole that seemed to exist now in her chest. Her thoughts slipped back to the previous night's events. She swallowed nervously, worrying that she had gone too far with her emotional outburst.

Biting her lip, she began to make a pot of coffee. She had been wrong to say the things she had. They were friends and Sherlock did need her to stay, perhaps not for his rehabilitation but simply because of their budding relationship, no matter how confusing it was.

She felt guilty and tried her best to push the thoughts away and focus on making something for breakfast. She really did care for the man even if it was hard. She had her reasons for keeping him at a distance as she was sure he had his. She didn't want to go. She didn't want to move on to another job, somewhere else.

Joan was sure that she had hurt him last night and decided that she would have to make it up to him somehow.

…

Sherlock walked quietly out of the station, having met with Captain Gregson for a debriefing. His mind, however, had been on Watson and not on the case nor Gregson's words. He had been trying to figure out a way to convince her to stay. He didn't know what she wanted from him.

Was it more privacy? Did she want to pursue other interests besides working with him? She had stated that he didn't need her but that thought couldn't be further from the truth. Maybe she really was tired of him and wanted to move on to something else. But he needed her. Why couldn't she see that?! He wasn't entirely sure why he needed her but he did. There was no arguing that fact.

Making his way across the city, it began to rain down heavily, causing him to grimace and gripe quietly to himself. He should have brought an umbrella. Increasing his pace down the sidewalk, he came to the conclusion that he simply must try harder at reaching her.

…

Finishing off several cups of coffee and a full breakfast, Joan was sitting in the living room not quite sure what to do with herself. She wanted to phone Sherlock and ask where he was. She wanted to meet up with him and see if she could be of any assistance to him. But at the same time she felt like she never wanted to see or speak to him again. It was confusing.

She rose from her seat and made her way back into the kitchen to clean up the dishes left in the sink. Halfway through washing them, the detective walked in through the front door. She paused, hands sunk deep in warm, soapy water. Glancing over her shoulder at the man, she gave him a small smile, hoping that it may warm the iciness existing between them.

Sherlock was soaking wet from the rain. He removed his coat, moving to hang it on the coat rack.

"Watson... I need to talk to you."

He looked very serious, calculating, as his eyes looked her up and down. She moved to dry her hands on a dish towel before leaning against the counter in interest. She crossed her arms across her chest worriedly. "Okay... "

The dark haired man averted his gaze for a moment, opting to stare down at her black heeled boots.

"I just want you to know that you are very important to me. I don't think you realize how much. I think that you see yourself in the most convenient definition, in that, you don't feel like you have value or self-worth."

"I don't-"

"Please." he interrupted her, holding a hand out towards her. "Let me finish."

Her dark eyes darted across his face before she nodded solemnly at him.

"You are my friend. A good friend. I don't have to remind you that I do not have friends. I'm sure you've written it down in my case file. You are, of course, the exception to that. You are my only friend. You have value and worth. You are more talented than you know. And, I do not wish to see you go."

Sherlock paused, turning away from her then and taking a few steps over towards his desk. With his back to her, he muttered, "If you wish to continue living here, you may. Or, you may find another place to live. But, please," he spun around and tried to meet her astonished expression, "do not leave me."

Joan let her mind take all of this in. She bit her lip as she thought about her options. Should she stay? She could. She could rent the room upstairs from him and continue accompanying him on cases. She wanted to. She did. It was just... there was that crippling self-doubt. There was that worry, that niggling thought in the back of her mind telling her that it may not work out, that things may turn south and to get out now while things were still good.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced up at his hazel eyes. They were eyes filled with so much warmth and just a bit of fear. She frowned slightly at what she found there.

Not being able to find the right words, she simply nodded at him and said, "I'll stay."

The smile that broke out across his face was one of pure relief and happiness. She couldn't help but meet it with one of her own. Pushing off of the counter, she walked towards him, moving to occupy the space right in front of him.

He watched her, his eyes raking across her delicate features as she slowly moved past him and over towards the staircase. "I'm going for a jog. Care to accompany me?" She asked as she paused at the foot of the stairs.

He spun around, giving her a puzzled look. "What, now?"

"Yes. What's wrong with going for a jog now?" she asked smirking at him. He'd gotten out of promises to run with her before but she wasn't letting him this time.

He opened his mouth to object but she fixed him with one of her looks and he let his mouth snap closed. She smirked.

"Great! We leave in ten!" She called over her shoulder as she scampered up the stairs to her bedroom.

Sherlock grinned to himself in contentment. That woman.