Clara has mind wiped the Doctor, and now she is working with Ash (aka Ashildr) at their American diner in London. When she gets framed for a horrible crime, Sherlock and John come to the scene. Will Clara be able to prove her innocence?
Oslock/Wholo...
'Damn it!' Clara cries as she opens the oven door. Dark smoke starts pouring into the diner's kitchen from the oven. Clara grabs her oven mittens off of the counter and shoves them on forcefully. She reaches into the oven and pulls out her pan of burnt soufflés. 'Oh... really? Again?!'
She sets the pan on the counter and takes off her mittens. Coughing, she quickly closes the oven door. She sighs and reaches across the counter for her phone, which is covered in flour. Wiping the flour off, she unlocks her phone. Noticing she has a new text, she opens messages. The new test is from Ash.
The trial was short. Why weren't you there? I'm sentenced to a few years of prison, but it's not on my record. I'm thinking our plan will take place a few days from now. Love you, -Ash
Sorry, I was baking a soufflé. I'm moving out of my flat and into the diner. The plan sounds good. Love you back. -CO
Clara sets her hand down on the counter, too close to the hot soufflé pan.
'Ouch!' she yelps as her fingers make contact with the hot metal. Her burnt fingertips fly straight into her mouth as she thinks, that is going to hurt later.
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Taking her fingers out of her mouth, Clara sits down at a booth and pulls out her laptop. The diner is empty today because Clara is taking a day off. She needs it to get settled back into the diner. Thinking of which, she calls her landlord.
'Yeah, I'm cancelling my rent,' she tells Mr Bodetti from across the phone. He grumbles on the other end and tries to persuade Clara not to do that. Clara ends up hanging up. Setting her phone down, she does some googling on her computer for different soufflé recipes.
'Maybe I should try waffles...' she wonders aloud. She hears her phone ding and glances at the lit-up screen.
'Don't bother checking that,' A baritone voice says from behind her. Clara turns, her heart beating faster, to see Sherlock standing behind her. 'That was from me, approximately 10 seconds ago, to let you know I was coming.'
'Christ, Sherlock! Don't scare me like that!' she yelps. Sherlock sits at the booth seat across from her. He pulls out his phone and shows the screen to Clara. Clara's eyes widen as she tries to hide her surprise and fear.
'Are you familiar with a man named Moriarty?' he asks. Clara gulps.
'N-no, Sherlock.' She lies. The screen is pulled up to a text. The message reads,
Alright, Sherly, it's time to play the game. The closest pool near Clara. -JM xx
'Come on, then,' Sherlock tells her. The nearest pool, Clara knows, is only a few blocks from the diner. Sherlock stands and makes his way to the door.
'Sherlock--' Sherlock shuts the door behind him. Clara frantically jumps up and grabs her coat off of the counter, and races out the door after him.
On the street, Clara takes a right and jogs to catch up with Sherlock's long legs. She steps in front of him and tries to steer him back towards the diner. Her height is a disadvantage and she just stumbles in the direction he is going.
'Sherlock, wait! No--stop!' she commands him. He continues walking to the pool. Clara knows what Moriarty can do, and none of it is good. She does not want to see what might happen--she doesn't want to put Sherlock in danger. She wants to keep him safely away from Moriarty forever. Jim is evil--he will probably eat them alive in there. She can't bear that to happen to Sherlock. She would give her life for him any day.
Clara tries to stop his motion, but before she knows it, they're there. Sherlock opens the door to the pool house and continues down hallway after hallway, with Clara trailing behind.
'Please, Sherlock! You don't know what you're getting yourself into--you don't know who he is!' Urgency is coated on her words. Riley had shown Clara videos of all the horrible things Moriarty had done, along with reports. She is walking backwards and is in front of Sherlock now, holding her hand out like she is calming an animal. Sherlock glares at her menacingly.
'You sound like my brother. 'Don't do this, Sherlock.' 'That's incorrect, Sherlock.' 'You're such an idiot, Sherlock.'' he mocks, hatred clear on his face.
'No--Sherlock! Please,' she begs him again. Her eyebrows are knit in concern and frustration, and her eyes are big. Pleading. 'For me.'
Sherlock glances at her, but then looks away. He opens the doors to the pool cautiously and steps inside, Clara close by. They spy Jim Moriarty by the side of the pool, standing and waiting.
'Oh, Sherlock,' he says with a rough Irish accent. 'It's good to see you've come. I was getting worried you wouldn't show.'
Sherlock approaches him with Clara a few steps behind.
'And Miss Oswald! I'm not surprised you came; Sherlock never leaves home without a pet, it seems,' Moriarty coos. Clara slowly looks down to see a dozen red dots hovering above her chest, where her heart is. She assumes the same red dots are being aimed at her forehead.
She glances over at Sherlock, whose eyes are fixed on Moriarty. There are red dots on his chest and forehead as well. Clara lets out a shaky breath and looks back up at Moriarty.
