Read about a new tenant in 221c, Sherlock getting his cheekbones scolded, John becoming increasingly confused and soufflé after soufflé as Moriarty and the Doctor are about to turn round the corner.Outrageous flirting, wild arguments, suggestive eye...
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Clara couldn't control her knee as it jittered up and down as she sat in the courtroom seat in the gallery. She could see Moriarty, leisurely chewing gum, his suit impeccable and hair combed back perfectly. She remembered the red dots from snipers he had ordered and how they burned across her collarbone. She remembered tapping out Morse code behind her back while she fooled him with a wall of words. She remembered knowing that if her death resulted in Sherlock living, she would have (and would now) happily agree to that trade. Clara shook her head, trying to shake the dark thoughts from her mind. Sherlock waited patiently, like a dark haired sentinel, looking down his long nose - completely above everyone else in the room. "Jesus, Clara," John whispered. "He's not the one on trial."
Clara crossed her legs and tried to shake off the nerves. "He's going to embarrass himself," She replied. He's going to embarrass me.
"I gave him a few tips in the taxi over."
Clara gave John a look. "He didn't listen, did he?"
John sighed, pressing his mouth into a thin line. "He said he'd just be himself."
Clara's mouth dropped open. "John!" She exclaimed, then lowered her voice because the other people in the courtroom gallery were starting to stare. "That's the worst possible situation."
"You think I don't know that?" John breathed out his anger, gritting his teeth. "If you two weren't having this stupid row, that I don't understand - that nobody understands - then maybe you could've put some sense into him."
"Okay, this time, it wasn't me who started the row - he wanted to ship me off to New Zealand!" Clara shook her head, remembering what she had said to Sherlock a few minutes ago. The words had just slipped out - she'd thought it and said it. "It's complicated right now," she finished, looking at her shoes.
John frowned. He shifted in his seat so he was facing her properly. "Complicated? So you two are speaking?" Clara tried to look anywhere but at John. "Clara."
"No," She snapped. "Yes...maybe, I don't know!" She sighed, relenting. "Look, I'm trying to talk to him but he's turned back into Mister Sociopath on me. I am not leaving just because Moriarty is back and..." Clara trailed off, her anger bubbling out of her. "And then this morning, oh, don't get me started on this morning..." Clara shut her mouth, she didn't need John to know that she called Sherlock sexy.
"What the hell happened this morning?"
"Nothing," Clara said, her voice loud enough to turn Sherlock's head towards them. John and her shared a look and tried to act normal.
