Their staring contest seemed to last forever, the tension in the air growing as each second passed. Out of nowhere the old song, Stayin' Alive began playing. I rose an eyebrow as the three of us quickly looked around at each other. Moriarty sighed as he closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly, "Sorry, do you mind if I get that?" Sherlock answered sarcastically, "Oh no, please. You've got the rest of your life." Moriarty answered his phone, "Hello?" He moved around in his stance, "Yes of course it is. What do you want?" He mouthed sorry over at us and turned around as the other person spoke. I didn't know how to feel; I was scared, wanted to laugh and unsure if I was going to be alive in five minutes." He shouted at the person, causing me to jump, "Say that again!" He made motions in the air with his hand, "Say that again and know that is you're lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you." The other person must have said something interesting as he put the phone down and walked slowly towards us, "Wait…sorry, wrong day to die." Out of nowhere I spoke, "Oh, did you get a better offer?" I mentally slapped myself as soon as the words were out, I was going to get killed for sure. He looked at me and then started to walk away, "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." Then he started to walk out the room, maintaining his conversation, "So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes." He snapped his fingers as he walked through the door and the lasers disappeared.

I sighed and took in a deep, shaky breath as John spoke, "What happened there?" Sherlock turned slowly and looked down at us, "Someone changed his mind. The question is, who?"

After the events of that night I was super exhausted and fell asleep in the taxi on the way home. I woke up to John shaking me gently, "Klayre, come on, we're home." I nodded and got out following them inside. I turned towards my flat but was stopped by Sherlock, "Klayre…" I leaned against the wall looking at him as I started to take off my heels, "Yes?" He seemed hesitant but it quickly vanished, "I'm glad you're alright. If you need too, you can sleep upstairs in one of our rooms." John looked at him upset that he had offered his room as well but then his face softened. He nodded towards me, "Yeah, just let us know." I nodded, "I'm going to change and then I'll let you know." I walked slowly into my living room and closed the door. It wasn't that I was scared, I didn't think Moriarty would come and attack me here. I guess I just needed to be around my friends after almost dying with them. After I threw on my pajamas and put my hair up, I walked upstairs and knocked gently on their door.

John is the one who answered, handing me a cup of tea as we sat down on the couch. Sherlock was sipping on his from across the room. Silently we all just stared at each other until John spoke, "You know, Klayre if you think you need to talk to anyone…my therapist is very good." I nodded, "Yeah, I might need to do that, you know, since I was kidnapped and all tonight." I had tried to say it in a way that lightened the mood, but honestly it just made the situation finally seem real. I looked down at the empty cup and started to cry. John immediately put his cup down and pulled me into a hug, "Shhh, it's alright. Everything is going to be fine." I cried into his shirt, balling it up in my hands. Sherlock watched from his chair, unsure of what to do or say.

I could hear his footsteps as he walked over and sat down on the other side of me. His hand patted down on my shoulder a few times, "It's alright, I'll make sure he doesn't ever get that close to you again." I nodded into Johns shoulder and started to pull away, sniffling, "Thanks…sorry John I kind of ruined your shirt." I chuckled a bit. He smiled, "That's okay, nothing a good washing won't get rid of." He stood up, "Well, uhm, I don't mean to rush you but which ro-" Sherlock interrupted him, "Mine, she'll sleep in mine. I don't mind the couch and I know it bothers your lower back." John nodded, "Oh, okay then, well I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you two in the morning." He rubbed my shoulder again before disappearing into his room.

Sherlock looked over at his bedroom door, "I'll just go change and then you can get some sleep. Alright?" I nodded as he left to do as he said. When he came back out he was dressed in his grey silk pajamas and robe. He smiled briefly at me as I stood up and started to walk past him. He grabbed my arm, "Klayre…I really will make sure that Moriarty doesn't ever touch you again." I took in a deep breath as I looked up at him, "I know, thanks Sherlock." He let go of my arm and I went into his room. Turning to close the door I looked out at him on the couch. His hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. A pang of guilt washed over me at taking his bed. Sherlock must have felt me watching because his gaze drifted back down towards me. I smiled softly, "You know, it is your bed, I didn't mean to kick you out of it." He shrugged, "It's alright, I offered." I turned to crawl into it, leaving the door open but turned back towards him, "W-we could share…I wouldn't mind." I noticed his eyes glaze over for a brief second as he swallowed. He hesitated, licking his lips before responding in a low voice, "Nah, I'll be fine. I promise." He gave me a quick wink before closing his eyes and snuggling into the couch.

I sighed and shrugged before crawling into bed. Half of me was sad that he had said no, but the other half was relieved. Relieved because I wasn't sure if he had feelings for me and I didn't want to find out that he didn't while lying next to him in bed. Slowly I drifted off to sleep.

Sherlocks P.O.V

Sherlock laid against the couch with his eyes closed, trying to control his heart beat. He heard Klayre sigh slightly and then crawl into bed. It's not that he didn't want to share his bed with her. It's just he'd never shared his bed with anyone before. Plus, he just wasn't sure what she wanted…was she interested in him for more than friendship? If she was he sure didn't want to screw anything up. He gulped at the thought and turned onto his side, staring into the couch cushion.

He had a hard time reading her, which was weird. That never happened with anyone. He laid there counting stitches, listening to her breathing. His own breathing beginning to match hers. Sherlock wasn't sure how much time had passed but he noticed his back had started to hurt. He should have taken Klayre's offer to share the bed.

Slowly light began to creep into the living room; yet again he hadn't slept. He ran his hand down his face, dreading the fact that John was going bring up taking you to his therapist again at some point during breakfast. At the thought of what had happened, Sherlock felt his blood pressure rise. Anger filled his heart that his friends had been used against him, their lives put in danger. He slapped himself mentally, 'That's why you distance yourself. You cannot get attached to them.' He knew it was too late though, he already considered John more of a brother than his own blood one. He sighed sitting up and walked into his room. He stared at Klayre thinking, 'and you…what am I going to do about you…' He wanted to reach out and touch her hair, hold her close, let her cry into his shoulder like she did with John. He just couldn't bring himself to do those things. He admitted to himself then and there that he was just too socially awkward to try to woo her, although he wanted too.

He passed by and went into the bathroom to relieve himself and get dressed for the day. By the time he came back out into the living room, John was up and in the kitchen making breakfast. Sherlock nodded at him, "Morning." John nodded back as he grabbed some plates down. He sat down and watched his friend, he was wearing the watch Sarah liked, meaning he was going to be going out later. That would give him some time to do some research online without interruption. The tea kettle went off, dragging him out of his thoughts. John pointed towards his room, "Is Klayre still asleep?" He nodded, "Yes. I think it's best to just let her sleep until she wakes up on her own." John nodded, and opened his mouth slightly but closed it before opening it once again. Sherlock rolled his eyes as he knew what was about to come out of Johns mouth, "I think it's important for Klayre to go see a therapist. She went through something very traumatic last night. Would you please support this?" Sherlock sighed, "You know I don't think they actually help anyone. Klayre will be fine, she has us to help her through anything." John gave him a look that showed disappointment, "Sherlock, you aren't exactly the most relatable person in the world. She needs someone who can help her through it normally." Sherlock sat up straighter, offended that he might not be able to help Klayre in the way he wanted. He turned his head slightly, looking at the doorway to where she slept, "Fine, I'll support it."