You See But Do Not Observe

PUZZLE

"He doesn't get more aggressive, does he?" John asked.

"If he was, I'd report him to our boss and he would be fired. I'm on good terms with her." She said.

"Good." John said.

Sherlock watched their exchange silently, observing every change in Serena's expression. She was accustomed to being treated like this, like she was merely an object to be stared at. The way John treated her surprised her. She knew he thought she was attractive, but she didn't mind because she liked him. She knew how to take care of herself, but she wanted help. And she was fiercely proud. But what did this tell him about her past?

Nothing.

Maybe there was nothing to find. Maybe he needed her to be interesting. But his mind rejected that idea. It wasn't plausible with everything he already knew.

"Aren't you coming?" Serena asked, and Sherlock looked at her. She and John were already in the cab.

"Yes." He said, and he got in. She glanced at him as he folded himself into the seat. There really wasn't enough room. He was pressed against her, and she didn't look entirely comfortable with the situation.

"221 Baker Street." Sherlock said.

It was hot in the cab. Stifling in fact. Serena was fidgeting on his right.

"Excuse me sir. Could you open a window or something?" Serena said.

"Sorry ma'am, but the windows don't roll down. Some vandal shoved gum in the slats. We're still trying to fix it." The cabbie said.

Serena glanced at the lock. John didn't notice; he was staring out the window. She was avoiding Sherlock's gaze, most likely because she knew what he was searching for in hers.

He felt as though he could hear her heartbeat through the seat. She was getting more panicked by the second. Her gaze shot from door to door faster than Sherlock could track it. It was when her hand clenched her knee tightly that John glanced over her shoulders at Sherlock. His gaze was worried.

"Stop the cab." Sherlock ordered.

"What! Here?" The cabbie asked.

"Yes, now! Pull over!" Sherlock said. The moment they slowed down, he opened the door and got out. Serena followed him. He could sense the blind dread coming off her in waves.

"Serena, look at me." She was breathing too heavily. "Look at me!" He said fiercely, and she stared at him with wild eyes, completely unguarded. But he didn't delve deeper.

"You're in the open air now. You're fine." Sherlock said, and she nodded. Her fingers raked through her long hair anxiously.

"So sorry...silly..." She muttered.

"What brought it on?" Sherlock asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing. The heat, I don't know." Her voice was rising and falling in waves, and she glanced around.

"Why didn't you say something?" John asked.

"I-I didn't want to be a bother." She said.

"I thought you could control it." Sherlock said.

"Sometimes, certain things trigger it." Serena said.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. Sherlock turned back to the cab and got in. Serena stepped forward. Her knee was shaking. She put one hand on to brace herself, and Sherlock saw her face drain of blood.

"I'll walk." She said.

"It's another three miles." Sherlock said.

"I'll walk."

"I'll go with you." John said.

"No."

"I could use the exercise. Anyway, I'm a doctor. It would be unprofessional for me to not make sure you are okay."

Serena sighed. "Fine. Whatever." She said.

Sherlock looked at the cabbie. "How much?" He asked, and he handed over the money.

"Oh how dreadful. Walking home." He said.

"Too boring for you?" Serena asked.

"Such hard work." Sherlock said.

Serena's mouth twitched upward. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened." She said.

"You apologize quite a lot. Five times, as a matter of fact." Sherlock said.

"You've been counting?"

"I have a remarkable memory."

"And yet," John said, "You couldn't remember that the earth went around the sun."

"That was useless, pitiful information."

"It's primary school learning." Serena said.

"I know, I know, alright? Your brains may have enough space to store things about...space, but mine doesn't! I have to cram things like how to identify a murderer and how suitcases splash mud onto legs in there. It's hard being me."

"Oh, yeah, your life is so hard, Mr...."

"Oh, just call me Sherlock, will you?"

The words came out angrier than he meant them. Serena instantly looked away from him. The silence stretched on for minutes as they kept walking in a straight line.

"We should go out for dinner." John said abruptly.

"Dinner." Sherlock said.

"Yes, dinner, Sherlock. Us ordinary humans have to eat sometime. Serena?"

"Sure." She said.

"I know the perfect place." John said with a smile, and Sherlock rolled his eyes as he began talking to Serena again.