Too long. It had been too long. It seemed likely that Sherlock had just missed her; the fog was so thick that he could have passed within fifteen feet of her and neither of them would have known it. But maybe he was hurt. Maybe he was lying on the Cornucopia field, injured and vulnerable, or bleeding out, or dead. She had to try to find him.

Joan left the car she had been hiding behind and made her way back toward the Cornucopia. Or at least toward where she thought the Cornucopia was. The fog was too thick for her to be certain.

The car materialized from the mist, and she could hear someone there, doubtless someone trying to strip the car of parts. She looked around and crept closer, pressing herself to the car and making her way closer to the sound. She wasn't surprised to see someone trying to disassemble the engine, but her eyebrows did go up at the lab coat. It was white (well, mostly) which was sure to make him easier to see, and the material couldn't have been thick enough to offer any protection.

She stayed pressed against the car, watching him.