Blue didn’t mean to follow Clara like a creepy stalker. He’d just noticed her walking through the ring and found himself following. He wanted to know where she was going, curious about her cases, always hoping that certain people were under investigation. He appreciated her sense of justice, admired her big heart. She was one of the good ones. There were so few of them, honestly.
He got too close, though, he knew he had, because his thoughts touched her mind. Thankfully it was innocuous enough: a view of the back of her head as he saw it now, then a memory of her face smiling at him, finally a brief flash of her stepping out of a steaming shower (not something he’d seen, something she had--in the foggy mirror of her own bathroom). He quickly withdrew, grimacing as he shut his thoughts off from her as best he could. He knew it was useless to hide now, though. She knew he was there.