Elephant's Memory (Sherlock BBC)

5: Bleak

Days went by. Months passed. It rained and it snowed and everything in between happened. Slowly, Clara began to feel like herself again. The twins continued to excel. Mary-Kate came out of hiding. Julie constantly talked about Ryan; according to her, he was haunting the house, to make sure that nobody would hurt them. Or touch anything in his room. It gave Clara some sort of comfort.

Sherlock and John were around more often then not. Clara was the first person they called if they needed something, whether it was money, a connection, or a call to have her on a case. She was always happy to go, too. It took her mind off of things, to be busy.

"CLARA!" Sherlock bellowed. "Clara!"

"Sherlock!" She cried, using her arms to cover her exposed top half. "Sherlock, I know I gave you a key, which I am really regretting now, but please, do not barge into my room!" Clara said, quickly cloaking her half naked body with her dressing gown.

"I need you on a case, John has to work!"

"Well, so do I! and I have children to raise!"

"Yes, but you can get out of work quicker, and you have a nanny!"

"I'm aware. Ugh." She tossed on her shirt underneath her dressing gown. "Where is it that you want me to go this time?"

"Minsk. My new client said he didn't stab his wife twenty eight times, that he's innocent, even though the police found him covered in blood with the knife in his hand. Worth going out there for, don't you think?"

"Really? Minsk? At one in the bloody afternoon?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Well, you're the only person I know in the immediate area with a private jet."

"Which is currently out of comission for repairs!"

"Please? If you don't go with me, I'll stick you in a sack and carry you out of here. I'm not afraid of your butler that's famous in Russia for his knife throwing capabilities."

"Ugh, Sherlock!" She said, not questioning how Sherlock knew that her butler was an international contract killer, infamous for taking out members of the KGB with throwing knives.

"I'll pay for your ticket."

"Mmm hm, sure you will. Considering that you're flying with a multibillionaire."

"Okay, you can pay for the tickets, ah..." Clara groaned.

"I have a meeting in twenty. It'll only take a half hour, can you wait that long?"

"Yes." Sherlock replied. "get dressed, pack a quick bag. I stole some of your clothes and took them back to Baker Street a few months ago. You can change into them when we get back, I dont think that the case will take much longer than a day."

"I'll have to tell Wilhelm, there's supposed to be a gala that I have to attend tonight." She sighed. "Don't let me forget to call the hotel. It'll go on my debit.

"Good, Good."

"This isn't an excursion for me. I just got a call from someone in Minsk, funnily enough. I'll have to make a business deal while I'm there." Sherlock looked away guiltily, not wanting to admit that he'd bargained with Herbert to get her buisness phone number and asked one of the people in his homeless network to make the call.

"Good. Start packing."

~_~_~

"Alright, Mr. Berwick, tell us what happened." Clara said, looking red in the face and clearly freezing. She knew she should have brought a better coat; Minsk wasn't exactly known for being a tropical getaway, unfortunately.