Takes place toward the end of The Great Game.
Rose wondered between the train cars. She needed a break after everything. Two weeks without leaving Torchwood, working on an idea that didn't pan out was enough to send her round the bend. She saw him then. The bloke she'd seen twice over the past eight months. She wasn't sure what it was about him that made her remember him so easily. There was something.
Maybe it was his strange behavior each time. Digging through a skip in the middle of the night and then inspecting graffiti the next. He appeared to be watching something intently.
Sherlock noticed her as she approached him, but he made no indication as he watched John talk to the train worker. He already solved the case, but he wanted John to get there on his own.
"This another case or are you stalking that bloke for another reason?" she asked.
A grin threatened to surface, but he pushed it aside, keeping his eyes on John.
"I could ask you the same question," he replied.
She laughed lightly.
"You'd know if I was stalking you." He glanced at her briefly and caught the teasing smile. He blinked for a moment, not entirely sure what to do. "So, is he a suspect then?"
He glanced back at John, shaking his head to clear it.
"No…um…" What the hell is wrong with me? "He's my friend."
"Stalking your friend then?"
He gave her a sideways glance. Her smile was still there, making him glance away because he wasn't entirely sure what to do with that. No one smiled at him like that.
"No, he's working on a case."
Rose's smile widened, realizing what he was doing. It was something the Doctor would do.
"But you've already worked it out. You're just waiting for him to get there."
Sherlock turned to her then, not just a glance, wondering how she managed to work that out.
"How did you know?" he asked.
She shrugged, still grinning.
"I had a friend…have a friend," she corrected herself because she was getting back to him, "he's like that too."
He watched her smile slip when she corrected herself, which was just as well, even if a strange feeling of loss came over him, but he shoved that into a dark corner with other such sentiments.
"Ah," he replied, wondering about her friend, but he turned his gaze back to John. "What about you?"
"Bit of a walk to clear my head. Been working on something and it didn't turn out."
"Something to do with your friend?" he inquired, glancing at her and catching the surprise. He grinned. On the money then.
"Looks like your friend's close to figuring it out," she said, nodding toward the bloke near the tracks.
Sherlock turned his attention back to John. She was right. He glanced at her to say goodbye, but she was already walking away. He turned back to his friend and closed the distance while John was occupied.
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