She stays inside the shop. She paces. "Ugh. He's going to find out eventually anyway - I should've stalled you a little longer till my alarm went off, he would've found you and I'd give him and a team halfway decent odds."

"I wouldn't," says Sherlock. "I like how it turned out much better."

"Of course you do, you have me exactly where you felt like putting me, you're invincible, you're up to whatever you're up to and it's all going according to plan, why would you give a shit about me," she says, and then suddenly she's not scowling, she's crying, sitting on the floor of the shop hugging her knees.

"...My impulse is to hug you but I don't actually expect it to help," he says. "D'you want a tissue?"

"Why the hell," she sniffs, "would you have the impulse to hug me?" She doesn't comment on the tissue either way.

"Never fucking mind," he mutters.

"Seriously, what the hell, you - what the hell, why. Would it be interesting to see what I'd do if Recurring Nightmare Star hugs me, is that it?"

"No."

"Maybe I've done something to fucking offend you and you suspect I wouldn't like it and your vindictive streak is operative and you could've had plausible deniability about it so I wouldn't call the US fucking ADI on you, come on, tell me," she says, rubbing at one eye.

"I cannot meaningfully answer the question because if I told you the truth you would not believe it. Form whatever theory you like. It will be wrong."

"You know what," she says, checking for the car again, finding it still parked, "take the scrying water back, I'll buy mint oil and - and a divining lens -" She gets up and puts the water bottle on the counter. "And then you can prove it, if you want." She has named the ingredients for a lie detection spell.

"Fine," he says. He processes the return of the scrying water.

She collects a little bottle of mint oil, and a green scrying lens, jaw set, shivering occasionally.

Sherlock sells her those items instead.

"I like you, as ridiculous as that is. I am upset that you're upset and I want to help. Vampires can form meaningful personal connections, we just usually don't with humans because most of us think of you as ambulatory juiceboxes. I was never going to kill you, and while I'm at it I also don't mean to kill anyone else in this town, or on this planet, or ever again if I can help it. Is that enough truth for you or would you like some more?"

"Brilliant," he says dryly. "I'm on a roll, why stop now. Losing Tony felt like being messily deprived of all my vital organs and it did not stop feeling like that after I woke up. I went after the Gem of Amara because in the year since that time I've regularly contemplated killing myself and the only thing that puts off the urge is having something interesting to do with my time. For reasons that escape me me, this business with going to high school qualifies as worth living for, but it probably won't do that forever. You're a far likelier prospect but if you find my company that distressing I might just prefer to leave town. Questions?"

"Did you expect me not to find your company distressing, considering?"

"If I'd been in your place, as a human or otherwise, I wouldn't have been especially upset. I didn't realize until now how much you differed from that."

"I don't recall ever lying to you," he adds, "and I don't especially intend to start. The only lie I have to keep up at the moment is John Escott and you already know all about him."