One Year Later:
Clara sat alone at the lunch table, playing with her Caesar salad with her fork. the chatter of Coal Hill School students filled the lunchroom. It had been a year since Danny's death and so far she was managing but it wasn't easy, the memories of Danny always seem to haunt her. She hadn't even put away her engagement ring, she was still wearing even after all this time.
It also didn't help that her family and friends were determined she date again. They even set her up on several dates, but nothing ever stuck.
Clara glanced at the bold headline of a discarded newspaper, it gave her the chills. There seem to be a pattern of tragic stories of families and loved ones losing someone, just like her. It was eerie. Victims found the same way as Danny, always called suicides but they were so many of them, the public were demanding answers from police.
It was scary but at least there was some comfort knowing she wasn't alone. Suddenly, a tray dropping beside her interrupting her thoughts. It was her friend, Amy Pond, another teacher.
"Hi!" She greeted.
Clara smiled.
"Hi." She replied setting aside the paper.
Amy then grinned at her as if knowing a special secret.
"So, how did it go?" Amy gushed.
Clara frowned confused.
"What?"
Amy scoffed.
"Your date," She replied opening her thermos. "And don't leave anything out!" Amy smiled.
Clara cringed remembering her date with Jake last week or what little there was, anyway. Unfortunately, that ended the same way as they all did, too, an early good night and disappointment.
Amy saw her friend's disheartened expression and sighed.
"Okay, what happened?" She asked placing her head in her hand.
Clara shrugged.
"Nothing," She replied. "He was nice… I just wasn't interested." Clara answered simply shoving a forkful of her salad in her mouth.
Amy rolled her eyes.
"You're never interested," She pointed out unwrapping her sandwich. "Remember, tall, dark and really cute, the one you said looked like Timothee Chalamet'." Amy reminded her.
"Yeah?" Clara frowned.
"You had everything in common in with him and yet, nothing!" Amy scoffed.
Clara made a face.
"Yeah, well, maybe I'm just looking forward for Mr. Right and a not a pretty boy." She replied shrugging.
Amy gestured at Clara's engagement ring still on her finger.
"Well, you're not going to find anyone with that still there." She pointed out.
Clara sighed knowing she was right, but it was just too hard, letting go.
"I know, okay," She said. "But how can I move on when I know the truth of how Danny really died?" Clara replied. "I can't even get anyone to listen to me!" She added in frustration tossing her fork down.
Amy studied her friend for a minute before speaking.
"You really believe it was something else, huh?" She said softly.
"Yes!" Clara replied.
Amy nodded then reached into her purse.
"I think I can help." She said.
Clara rolled her eyes.
"Please, not another, therapist," She groaned. "I've been to plenty already and they all think I'm just a distraught fiancé who needs a hobby." Clara grunted.
"It's not a therapist," Amy replied shaking her head. "It's better!" She said placing a small card in front of her.
Clara picked up the simple white card with a name written in black and fancy cursive.
"Sherlock Holmes," She read aloud. Clara glanced at Amy, curious. "What's this?" She asked.
Amy sighed.
"Remember when I had that traumatic experience and lost part of my memory?" Amy recalled.
Clara nodded.
"Well, he helped me, and I think he can help you." She said.
"What is he a special detective or something?" Clara asked.
Amy smirked.
"He's better, he's a detective consultant," She explained. "Police go to him when they need his help." Amy added.
Clara scoffed looking back at the card.
"Sounds like a cute name for someone unemployed." She reasoned tossing it aside.
"Well, I hear DI Lestrade is using him, right now to help investigate all these alleged suicides." She replied simply.
Clara glanced at her, now intrigued.
"I would really consider this guy's help." Amy advised.
Clara picked up the card, again reconsidering her options. She had tried everything at this point, what did she have really have to do lose?
The next day Clara walked up to the oddly black door, marked 221 Baker Street. Violin music blared from inside, it was a bit odd. She was wondering if she should even be doing this, but she was determined.
Clara carefully knocked but the music kept going so she knocked louder! Still nothing in fact, the music got louder as if on purpose. Frustrated, Clara used the door brass knocker, and it finally opened!
A man with short, blond hair answered, smiling at her.
"Hello," He said. "Sorry, I had these in my ears." He apologized holding up ear plugs.
Clara just smiled feeling at ease.
"You have to forgive my roommate," He sighed. "So, how can I help you?" The man asked.
"Um, I'm looking for someone called, Sherlock Holmes," Clara replied. "My friend Amy said he could help me?" She added.
The man nodded.
"Ah, I remember, Amy," He replied. "She said to be expecting you, come on in!" He welcomed her.
Clara smiled walking in, the music still playing, still just as loud!
"I'm Clara Oswald!" She shouted.
He nodded.
"John Watson!" He yelled back.
"Your friend plays lovely," She commented. "Bit loud, though." Clara noted following him down the narrow hall.
John rolled his eyes.
"I know," He said. "There, two things you need to know about Sherlock Holmes he's a genius and a bit of a twit." John warned her.
Clara just nodded, now really unsure if she had made the right decision but if she could deal with Courtney she could deal with Sherlock.
They walked into a small living room where a tall young man with shaggy dark hair wearing a blue robe was strumming away at his violin, swaying side to side like he was in another world or something.
John gestured at Clara to wait a second.
"Sherlock?" John shouted trying to get his attention.
No answer.
"Sherlock!" He shouted again.
The playing just got louder. Sherlock obviously knew John was there just chose to ignore him. It was kind of funny to Clara. Like watching brothers.
John glanced back at Clara smiling politely but she was used to this. She had students like this. But John was getting clearly annoyed and yelled louder.
"SHERLOCK!" He one final time. That worked!
Sherlock abruptly stopped turned, scowling at him.
"What is it, John? I'm trying to think!" He huffed.
John sighed.
"This is Clara Oswald, Sherlock." He introduced.
He shrugged returning to his instrument.
"Congratulations." Sherlock remarked.
John pressed his lips.
"She needs your help," John informed him. "God, knows, why." He muttered.
Sherlock paused looking at her up and down and shrugged again. "Sorry, I don't give fashion advice."
"Sherlock!?" John warned.
Clara sighed.
"It's okay, I deal with this with my students all the time." She replied.
Sherlock made a face.
"Eww, teachers," He scowled finally putting down the musical instrument. "I hate teachers." Sherlock muttered.
Clara refrained herself from saying something cheeky after all she needed his help.
He then plopped down in his worn-out easy chair and exhaled as if bored, already.
"Alright, what is it?"
"I need your help." She replied.
Sherlock waved his hand.
"Of, course you do," He said unimpressed, grabbing a nicotine patch. "They all do. What is it this time, cheating, robbery?" Sherlock replied.
Clara swallowed.
"Actually, it's my fiancé, Danny, I know he was murdered." She replied.
He clapped his hand triumphantly.
"Congratulations, sounds like you already solved it, I guess you don't need me, then" Sherlock replied smiling.
Clara sighed heavily.
"The Police think it's suicide, but I'm positive it's not and you're my last hope!" She told him.
Sherlock simply shrugged picking at his violin bow.
"Sounds boring, already," He yawned. "What makes you think I want to help or even care?" Sherlock replied.
Clara groaned completely aggravated, ripping away the bow from him.
"Because he was found the same way as the others, in an isolated area, no note, next to a tiny empty pill bottle and I know you're working on this with DI Lestrade and that tells me you care!" Clara argued.
Sherlock calmly grabbed back the bow back from her.
"Yes, well, Miss Oswald," He sighed, clearing his throat. "While, I am sorry for your loss, I'm not interested besides like you said I'm working with Lestrade so what's the point?" Sherlock shrugged.
Clara glanced back at John, baffled.
"Is he always like this?" She asked.
John nodded slowly.
"Always." He replied exasperated.
Clara was deflated but not ready to give up.
She folded her arms.
"So, you're just scared, then?" Clara replied simply.
Sherlock frowned.
"Of what?" He scoffed.
"I don't know," She shrugged. "The boogey man, working with a female or maybe you're just a 'yes man, like the rest of them," Clara challenged. "Won't do anything unless Lestrade or the police gives permission!" She mocked.
Sherlock gawked at her in shock, but John slowly smiled. He knew what Clara was doing, she was trying to get under Sherlock's skin, and it was working!
Sherlock immediately pointed at her completely offended.
"That is not true!" He answered defensively.
"Then help me!" Clara begged.
Sherlock slowly lowered his arm, scowling. She had him and he knew it and he hated it! But somehow he also found it impressive, there was something intriguing about her, but he wasn't going to let her know that!
Sherlock then nodded.
"Alright, I normally charge my services based on my interests but considering your boldness I won't charge anything." He said.
Clara grinned.
"Fair enough," She replied. "And you can meet me outside my class, I work at Coal Hill School." Clara added. She turned not letting Sherlock get another word in but paused and turned towards him, smiling sweetly. "Oh, and you can call me Clara." She said before leaving.
The door shut leaving Sherlock stunned. John just smirked impressed by Clara's boldness. He folded his arms looking at Sherlock smiling smugly at him.
Sherlock just scowled at him picking up his violin and bow and pointing at him.
"Shut up!" He huffed before returning to his violin music.