With a forced stay in a mental institution by way of introduction, it was little wonder that Watson was still jumpy about being in the City. Not just disgruntled, not just angry or nostalgic for home - genuinely jumpy, as if trouble could lurch around the corner at any time. Sure, he was wearing proper clothes. His own, in fact, as the city had perfectly replicated a striped shirt and one of his favorite sweaters. He had on real shoes, and he was free to wander.
None of it made him feel more comfortable.
He was in the open, seated in the park with a coffee and the newspaper. If he were stuck in a strange place, he wanted to know something about it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much in print - just a few articles about weekend events and a cover spread about a big gala opening at the local science museum. Frustrated, John crumpled the pages into a giant ball and dropped it unceremoniously at his feet.
He sipped his coffee and frowned.
Buffy tried to return to her regular schedule; eat, sleep, patrol. It was one unenthusiastic motion for her now, as if she were rehearsing who she was supposed to be. She hadn’t seen John, the man who tried to help her back in the hospital, since leaving that place with all its terrible associations. She thought about him often, if only because she was worried and weighted by guilt. What if he was still there? What if she had left him behind? She’d promised she wouldn’t.
So when she saw him on the park bench ahead it was the first real smile that had crossed her face in ages. Before she realized what she was doing, Buffy jogged toward him, just thankful to see someone she recognized.
She almost shouted Dr. Watson! But doing so would have felt out of place-- even for The City. She still wasn’t sure how much of the Sherlock dreams she had were drug induced and how much of it was real. John looked far too modern-- and thin-- to be the television versions of the famous doctor she’d caught glimpses of.
Buffy was also thankful that on this particular patrolling mission she only carried a wood stake concealed in the sleeve of her jacket. ( A sword or an axe would have been hard to explain. )