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

Distractions

Explaining to Mrs.Hudson that Clara was moving in to Sherlock's flat for the next two weeks was a difficult task. Clara invented an excuse which included "neighborly bonding" and "not wanting to be a bother", whilst Mrs. Hudson looked way through it, laughing and throwing remarks such as 'Go get him, tiger!' or 'Ooh! the things I did at your age..' (which caused Clara's cheeks to turn beet-red as she stuttered to deny the landlady's suspicions.)

This, of course, took nearly half an hour, but as soon as she was out the door, she silently whooped and squealed, muttering a cheery 'Goodbye Larry Thompson' as she dragged her small-yet now heavy bag of belongings up the set of stairs.

***

Gasping and cursing for breath, she stumbled over her feet as she finally arrived to the second floor , then immediately went to lean against the doorframe of Sherlock's already-open door. Clara bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to steady her quick, shallow breaths.

"Y'know," She managed to gasp out "Some help would've been quite nice, actually."

Sherlock, who was seated at his desk, didn't even glance up as he heard his new flat-mate arrive. He was currently examining a mysterious-looking 'meat', which Clara noticed and caused her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. He quickly muttered a dismissive "Busy." Not paying any attention to the struggling brunette, instead diverting his attention at the odd slab of meat in front of him. She, of course, took notice of that as well and once she recovered after the flight of stairs then proceeded to roll her eyes, muttering "One helluva charmer, you are."

Seeing no point in staying out of the flat any longer, Clara stepped into her 'temporary' home, staring in admiration at the (oddly) cozy decor. The windows displayed the snowflakes which fell through the chilly winter wind, but the fireplace was lit, setting the large flat with a warm, cozy vibe. Clara stared in awe at the gorgeous flat, it's colors were warm, ('Probably Mrs.Hudson's doing,') Clara added, amused at the idea of someone like Sherlock actually caring about some silly house decoration. Everything from the chairs to the rugs were almost welcoming. Clara turned towards one wall; a yellow smiley face spray-painted on the 'fancy' wallpaper and various bullet-holes on it as well, her mouth stretching into a small smile as she remembered the night she'd been awoken by his gunsho-

"Hm?"

She shook her thoughts away once Sherlock cleared his throat. A single eyebrow cocked up, he'd been silently observing the brunette's every move, trying to decipher her 'nature' (as he'd silently put it.) Clara's eyebrows shot up in question, but her cheeks set ablaze as she realized he'd been staring at her. Strangely intimidated by his burning gaze, Clara crossed her arms over her chest, and tried fixing the obvious tension in the room.

"So-" She casually skipped towards his desk, peeking at the disgusting items on his work table "What're those?"

Sherlock, unfazed by the tension, returned to carefully injecting the meaty looking glob with a needle. He didn't even glance up as he shrugged; "Human brain."

Her eyes slightly widened at his reply, and her eyebrows shot up from her face as she took a careful yet small step away. 'Great! Sharing a flat with a murderer, good choice, Clara!' she mentally scolded herself, sarcasm dripping from her every word.

"Uh- should I worry about how you got that?" Clara slowly asked, trying to hide the tinge of concern growing in the pit of her stomach, or maybe was it nausea?

Sherlock's lips twitched upwards for barely a second at the brunette's obvious discomfort as he then proceeded to explain;

"An old colleague of mine works at the morgue, she wanted a second opinion on Brian Harrow's murder."

"Brian Harrow?" She questioned, vissibly relaxing at Sherlock's explanation- yet still weary. At her question, he pointed at the brain, which was now carefully placed and lidded in a bin. Clara shuddered once she took another peek at the slightly deformed body-part, letting out a soft "Oh." as she realized that that was probably what was left from the poor bloke.

Sherlock stood up from the cluttered desk, throwing away his latex gloves, sliding his black coat on, adjusting his blue scarf and popping his collar. He made his way towards the door and shortly Clara was questioning him.

"Are you leaving? Where are you going? I just bloody got here, help me out!Where's my new room? Where's the loo? Am I supposed to buy the groceries? Why the hell is there a skull? Is it even human? Oh, please tell me its not real."

"Yes. Crime scene. I don't bloody care. Second door down the hall. Last door on your right. Your choice, don't care. It's my friend. Yes. Sorry." Sherlock answered way too fast with a large fake smile at the end that quickly turned back into a frown. With an 180 degree turn, he went to open the front door as she buttoned up her coat, upon noticing he looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"What are you doing?"

"Bathing the Queen, what does it look like I'm doing? I'm coming with you"

"Absolutely not Oswald. This is a very important case and I don't need you distracting me."

"Oh so now I'm a distraction Holmes?" She responded with a sly smirk and her hand on her hip.

"Of course you are. You ask silly questions every damn minute."

She huffed in annoyance 'Surely I don't ask that many silly questions do I?' Clara wondered as she made her way down the stairs as fast as her short legs could carry her. Sherlock, unaware of the brunette's change in mood, let out a sigh and took long strides down the stairs and exited the building, where she was already waiting in the crisp winter air.
A small smirk appeared on his face, maybe she wouldn't be too bad afterall.
***
AN- SO.. What did you think? Sorry for the short chapter, and once again sorry for not writing for a WHOLE YEAR! Did you like this chapter? more coming soon.