She wasn't sure why she kept coming back to that building, where everything was painted in a dull gray.

She wasn't looking for an apology; she knew she wouldn't get one, anyways. He was just so… so damn interesting. She didn't even know why he was (she hardly knew the man) but for some inexplicable reason, every time she caught a glimpse of him, whether in the papers or seeing him go out to the yard, dressed in the striped clothes all the other prisoners wore, her heart would beat just a little faster; her breath would catch ever so slightly.

Maybe it was because he was handsome. She wouldn't deny that she thought so, even when he was 'Future Luke.' But, thinking someone was attractive and actually liking them were two different things.

But, as she sat on the bench, surveying the scenery that had become so familiar in the last year, she knew that wasn't it.

Maybe she'd never understand why.

She leant against the wall, her breathing heavy as her heart thundered away.

He saw her.

For the briefest of moments, when he had been walking down the stairs to the concrete yard, his eyes had flitted up and met hers. She had frozen, the coffee cup falling from her grasp and spilling to the floor.

And then he resumed his walk, looking back down as if he had not seen a past acquaintance. She'd high tailed it out of there, wondering why he hadn't registered the same surprise as she did. Sure, she'd been looking at him for the past three months, but never once had he seen her.

Or rather, she never noticed if he had.

Maybe he felt a resentment towards her. She was one of the few who knew the full story; his parents death and the rest. But she'd refused to testify, instead choosing to lock herself away in her room for weeks after the ordeal. The Professor had left her alone, (now wasn't that a surprise?) and for once, she was grateful.

Maybe if she had, he wouldn't have gotten such a severe sentence. Well, that wasn't quite true. He was heading for the death penalty, but thanks to the Professor and Luke, he'd been spared.

Of course, he'd never see the outside of the jail cell for the rest of his life. There was no way, considering what he'd done.

Maybe, she thought, cocking her head to the side, he didn't want any reminders of his life before.

Or, maybe he was just being the cold bastard she knew he was. He didn't deserve to be forgiven. He had gotten what was coming to him.

So, why did she feel an aching sympathy for him?

All logic would mean she should hate him. And a part of her did, but only because he was perfectly fine being alone, and she had not quite gotten the hang of it. She couldn't help it, though. She was human, and she needed the support of others.

During the years she'd lived with the Professor, that need had become less strong. But Clive, he was an island; untouchable.

Perhaps she wanted to test the limits of it, just to see if she could?

Any thoughts she had previously had of stopping her visits to Scotland Yard (or the surrounding area, more accurately) vanished as she had these thoughts.

She returned, nearly every day. Each time, she'd question her own motives, and puzzle over the mystery that surrounded one Mr. Dove.

Some days, he'd look up. The same blank expression would be on his face, and then he'd look back down and continue walking. It had nearly become a ritual.

That is, until Flora grew tired and impatient of his cool facade. She resisted the urge to stamp her feet and yell and scream at him to bloody well pay attention I'm right here can't you see?

Months went by. And he never varied in his pattern. She felt sorry for his sad, lonely existence, but he always looked surprisingly calm, considering his situation.

And then, one day, she was sitting in her usual spot, when he looked up. Her eyes met his, blue on brown, and she gave him a weak smile.

He nodded.

The coffee cup once again fell with a clatter to the ground, her grasp becoming loose in her surprise.

Her heart warmed as she understood the gesture. It might have been a simple one, hardly worth anything, but for her, it meant acknowledgment. It meant that he was finally allowing her to breach those carefully guarded walls he'd always kept up.

She would have to come up with better excuses than 'going for a walk' to tell the Professor, she realized as she scurried back home that night. A soft smile tugged on her lips as she thought of the day's events.

Yes, she'd definitely have to get more excuses. After all, her outings were going to be a lot longer from now on.

A/N: Okay, this was for I'mtheDoctor'sdaughter for winning my reference contest!

This lovely person requested a story right after Clive kidnapped Flora, but as a person who tries my hardest to write original stories, I tried to change things up a teeny bit.

(Insert snarky comment about repetitiveness here)

Reviews are amazing. :)