She knew where he was staying. She almost always knew, through Sherlock or through Ghost himself. Cautiousness when approaching his hideaways had become a matter of course, double checking everything for safety for his sake, doubling back to lose any potential tails even though she was certain the government still thought she was in Ireland. For him it was worth it, though.

She sat down on a box when she got in, dropping her bag by her side. Elbows on her knees and chin on her hands as she leaned forward, patient. The odds were he already knew she was here, and even if he didn't he would be here soon, of that she was fairly certain.

And sure enough, he arrived. A tiny smile tugged the corner of her mouth.

"And yet I'm here," she said calmly. "I'm in the City for the next while. How are you?"

It was meaningless, almost banal chatter, but some normality was the only thing she had to offer him.