JOHNS POV

"She's really smart," I complimented after the girl had left the apartment.

"Clearly not, she didn't answer Mrs. Hudson before she was too far away to hear," Sherlock commented, opening a book.

"No, she's really really smart, Sherlock," I told again.

"Mhm."

"Almost as smart as you," I continued.

"What?"

"If not more," I mentioned casually, looking out the window - a move that was otherwise mostly reserved for Sherlock himself.

"No, she's not," Sherlock corrected; "No one is."

"She could read you pretty well," I pointed out, turning back to him.

"All she could tell was emotions. Useless," he argued, turning a page in his heavy book.

"Emotions are not useless, Sherlock," I corrected, sitting down in my chair to look at Sherlock.

"What do you think about living with her?" I questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she, well, it'll be a lot different than living with me," I tried explaining it.

"How so?"

"Well, for one, she's a girl. Woman," I corrected myself with an awkward cough.

"Was she? Hadn't noticed," Sherlock muttered, making me furrow my eyebrows.

"You hadn't noticed? Sherlock, you notice everything."

"Only things of importance," he corrected.

"Her gender was unimportant?" I tried.

"Oh no, not her gender specifically. More like, her entire person. She's just here to pay rent," he added with a shrug.

"No, she's here because it's not good for you to be alone. I know about your deal with Mrs. Hudson. She lets you stay here, but only if you have a roommate," I told.

"Well, she still prefers when she gets her rent. Don't want her to threaten to... Exotic dance me out of here."

"She's here because you need someone, Sherlock."

"No, that's why you're here, John," he shot back, finally looking up. I looked in his eyes, after all this time still somehow helpless when it came to reading his emotions in cases like this.

"But I'm leaving, Sherlock."

"I know you are, John! I know you're leaving, you do not have to tell me that!" he argued, standing up.

"Sherlock, you, you know I'm not leaving you, don't you? I won't be more than a cab ride away, you're welcome anytime, you know that, right? And I'll be over here all the time," I added.

Without a word, Sherlock stepped over the table, grabbed his coat, and went toward the door.

"Sherlock, where are you going?" I complained loudly.

"Case," he replied before slamming the door behind him.

I leaned back in my chair with a sigh.

"Liar," I muttered to myself before grabbing my laptop.

SHERLOCKS POV

Rushing down the stairs, I passed Mrs. Hudson while ignoring her complaints about me being loud or whatever it was, and continued out to the street.

John knew better than to follow me. He also knew better than to believe my lie about having a case, meaning he knew I'd expressed a need for space - one I trusted him to respect.

After a short consideration, I decided against bugging Lestrade for a case, knowing I couldn't step a foot near him without meeting Anderson or Donovan. Judging on the weather, rain was coming, and I began to aimlessly ponder down the street. I thought back to Cassandra, the idea of living with her.

As a roommate.

Not many minutes went by before I passed a coffee shop, noticing a familiar figure sitting with a cup in front of her. Glancing around me, I entered, trotted through the small shop before stopping in front of her.

"Hey Paul," she greeted without looking up from her phone.

"You said you were heading home," I pointed out.

"I did say that," she agreed, typing quickly.

"You're not home," I pointed out.

"Actually, I live here," she commented, finally looking up with a smile.

I glanced around the moderately busy coffee shop.

"I'm joking, Sherlock. Sarcasm," she explained, sending another smile. Another fake smile.

"Come on, you're a weirdo, you can't just creepily stand and watch a pretty girl. Sit down," she offered, nodding to the seat across her. I carefully eyed the chair before sitting down.

"You called yourself pretty," I stated.

"And you didn't disagree," she commented, finally having a hint of realness in her smile; "Want a coffee? On me?"

"Why don't you want to go home?" I questioned, looking directly in her brown eyes.

"Come on, Sherlock. You're a genius. You tell me," she encouraged. I couldn't detect as much as a trace of sarcasm of mock. She genuinely was curious and wanted to see me do it.

I slowly eyed her again.

Her black shirt, relatively tight, well-fitting. Expensive, but not to show off, just because she didn't see it as expensive, which was why she didn't care about the tiny spot of coffee on it. Wealthy parents, I reminded myself.

Her shoulders were raised slightly, she was tense. Her hands fiddled with her phone. She was nervous. In contact with someone, which is why she was so attentive to it.

Her face, her lips, her eyes, a little makeup, supported my theory about her generally caring about her appearance but not enough to wake up earlier. As did her hair. As my eyes ran over her features, I couldn't but agree with her previous statement. She was pretty.

Not that it mattered, naturally, of course not, but she was. She was very pretty.

"You don't want to go home," I stated.

"Ding ding ding," she agreed; "Why not, though?"

"I would have guessed your roommate's boyfriend was over, the one you didn't like. That'd explain why you didn't want her to move out and why you didn't want to go home, but that's not it... You're messaging with her right now, aren't you?"

She held up her phone to show me the flashing screen and nodded.

"She's not home either," I realise; "That's why you don't want to go home. You don't want to get home to an empty apartment. But why not? Most people would be thrilled to have the apartment to themselves for a few hours."

"Not if they care about their roommate," she countered; "You like it better when John is there, too, don't you?"

"No, it's more than that," I commented, waving her theory away; "Why don't you want to get home to an empty apartment?" I questioned again, furrowing my eyebrows.

"I would just like to point out that you didn't disagree with my John-theory," she commented with a sassy smile.

"You're afraid of... What? Losing her? Being alone? You don't talk to your family, she's the only person you have-"

"I have friends!" she disagreed.

"None like her. Why do you care about her so much? You're afraid of losing her..." I looked up; "She's sick."

Cassandra's eyes immediately looked away.

"She's very sick," I realised slowly.

"Cancer," Cassandra replied, facing my attentive eyes again.

"Stage five," I stated. She smiled sadly.

"Alright. How did you know that?" she questioned with a small laugh.

"You need a new apartment. She's getting admitted to the hospital and... She's not coming out again, is she?"

She looked down, only to have tears in her eyes when she looked back up.

"She's getting treatment right now. I'm gonna wait until she's done and then pretends I was in the area so I can take her home," she explained with a nod.

"You could always go with her," I suggested, unsure of my new role of advisor.

"She doesn't want me there. She has enough on her mind as it is, it's fine," she brushed it off, shaking her head slightly.

"When will she be done?"

"Four," she answered without hesitatings. Three hours left, I noted.

A beep sounded from my phone and I sighed deeply after reading it.

"I have to go," I told Cassandra, looking at her.

"Oh. That's fine. I'll just... See you around," she said, sending me another fake smile.

"You're welcome to join," I stated, watching her as she furrowed her eyebrows.

I don't know why I offered her to join. It's not that I didn't want her to join, I was... Indifferent, in a way, but she had no way to contribute, she would only be in the way. And yet, here I stood waiting for her to finish putting on her jacket.

"I feel like I should have more questions before following a man I've practically just met to a secondary location," she stated teasingly.

"And yet you don't. Come along, Cassy."

"Please," Cassandra added, making me look at her.

"It's... The quote? You know. 'Amy, please, just come into the Tardis. Come along, Pond. Please'?" she tried; "No?"

I looked at her, still not understanding.

"Never mind. We'll binge once I move in," she decided, grabbing her purse before leaving with me.