CLEVER- A Wholock AU. (Clara Oswald+Sherlock Holmes)

Affairs

After Clara's little 'nightmare incident' Mrs.Hudson had interrogated Clara

and spoiled her (making her tea and breakfasts in bed), earning many "No thank you's" and various "Seriously, I'm fine"s from the embarrassed brunnete, she certainly didn't want to trouble the landlady more than she ought- she was living in her apartment after all.

Within the days the nightmares didn't seem stop but somehow Clara managed to hide their occurance. She no longer screamed her lungs out in her sleep and she now spent multiple minutes applying makeup to cover the bags under her eyes and bringing more color to her pale skin before even emerging out of her room. Mrs. Hudson noticed her fake change, without knowing it was all bollocks, therefore seemed to stop worrying about Clara, (yet seemed to still love making her tea and crackers every morning.)

With the sleepless nights came the faceless man, always approaching her while she was crouched, but never close enough to reveal his face. Out of the whole repeating nightmare including the death loop, by far, the most frustrating part for Clara was the man. The man who never showed his face. The man who had chances to help her, but never could. The man who took her out of the death loop. But most importantly for Clara, the man who seemed to put her in that loop. Of course, she knew she was going mad, her life was a total mess, like a puzzle, and she didn't know how to fix it.

She didn't know why, but she thought the same mysterious man who was the source of all her suffering and sleepless nights, was also the one who could stop them. She couldn't explain why she believed this, "I just know" she would answer if ever asked why. However she had no proof what so ever of this, she had never seen the man after all. Or had she? Her mind would wonder, and she'd simply shake the the thought away, blaming her lack of sleep for the silly suggestion.

***

"Mrs. Hudson?" Clara asked, while taking both tea cups and carrying them to the dishwasher. It had been two weeks . Two bloody weeks. Yet her flat was still not ready. Honestly, she'd groan, how long does it take to fix some damn pipes?!

She wasn't upset about living with Mrs.Hudson, she was a lovely woman. She'd make her tea, and keep her company (Also, she made some amazing biscuits, Clara noted.) She was basically beginning to be a motherly figure to Clara.

There was a problem, though. A huge problem. Twice a week, when Clara was "asleep" Mrs.Hudson would invite a man in for tea, Larry Thompson, Clara had learnt, by accidentally listening in on their... sessions. You see, after their tea they'd chat for a while, until they decided it was safe to go to Mrs.Hudson's room. Clara shuddered just thinking about it; hearing people shag as you fall asleep isn't normally pleasant. Especially when both of them are at least fifty years older and get worried about breaking their hip as they had sex.

"Yes, dear?" Mrs.Hudson lowered the morning newspaper she was currently reading. Clara didn't really want to ask, she didn't want to hurt the landlady's feelings. She took a deep breath and gave her a small smile;

"Not to bother or anything, but when do you think my flat will be ready? Just curious, y'know."

Mrs. Hudson tilted her head and squinted her eyes, as if trying to remember, and quickly, her expression changed as she gasped, her hands flying to cover her open mouth.

"Oh! Clara, I am incredibly sorry! I forgot to call. At my age you start forgetting things, you see? How embarassing! Deary me- I'll call right now- Don't you worry" She arose from her chair, flashing Clara an apologetic smile, and headed towards the phone.

"It has been two weeks, two weeks of living in a spare bedroom." Clara thought, biting her tongue to keep herself from groaning out loud. Who knows how much I'll have to wait until they fix it now, her eyes widened, How many more nights with Larry Thompson will I have to endure?!