I told you Harry wasn't forgotten.


"Clara, why are you hiding behind the shelf?" The object of the name turned around, praying it wasn't who she thought it was. "You should be working, not hiding from your ex-wife." Clara sighed in relief. It was just her boss.

"Harry shouldn't be here this time of day. I changed my shift for this reason only."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Darling, she's worried, and slightly drunk. You should help her, even just this once."

"She chose to leave me. Harry's on her own now," Clara said, looking over the shelves to see if Harry was in view.

"Clara?" She wondered if Harry had been eating enough lately. "Clara?"

"What?!" Clara looked back at her.

"You're worried too, now."

"Shut up." She really didn't want to admit it, but she thought about Harry every once in a while. Okay, a lot. Okay, practically all the time. She shouldn't! She should forget all about Harriet Olivia Watson and her short hair that Clara could almost run her fingers through and the necklace Clara had given back when she heard where Harry had moved to and why she called her Clarabella, beautiful Clara. The sooner all of it was gone, the better. But she couldn't bring herself to hate Harry. And that was infuriating. If she hated Harry, all of this would be so much easier.

"Clara, there's woman over there who looks lost. Aisle 6."

She shook herself out of her reverie. "Alright. I'll go get her."

Kate caught her arm as Clara passed her. "Let Harry go, Clara. You both have been living with this for too long. I don't like seeing you sad." She nodded. Kate had lost someone as well, Clara never asked who, but she began to take care of Clara to almost make up for it, like how she used to take care of her someone. She never thought she'd be grateful for the protectiveness now.

The woman in the aisle was mousy and small. Long-haired, otherwise Clara would have wussed out. She was staring at the cleaning supplies like she didn't know where to start. "Hi," Clara said, coming over. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, thank you." She smiled at Clara. "One of my...one of the people..." She looked confused. "I'm not really sure what to call him, but he needs some hydrogen peroxide for an experiment, and he refuses to go out and get it for himself." The woman sighed. "It's complicated. Anyway, the stuff seems to have disappeared."

"Oh, I know complicated," Clara muttered. "Try me."

The woman looked surprised. "His name is Sherlock Holmes, and I had a crush on him for the longest time. Two years ago, he met someone named John, and they hit it off. Sherlock doesn't like people, and he's so blind to feelings, but he let John in. A year later, he thew himself off St. Barts. Did you hear about that?"

"Yes. But why would you be getting things for him if he's dead?" Clara thought she recognized the name John, but she didn't think it could have been Harry's brother.

She frowned a little. "I helped him fake his death so that he could basically save London from my former boyfriend, Jim Moriarty. He was also on trial for grand theft of the Crown Jewels and lots of other felonies."

"You can really pick them," Clara remarked, a slight rueful smile on her face.

The corner of the woman's mouth twitched up. "Yeah. John was heartbroken for a few days, but then it was like Sherlock never existed for him. I don't know what happened, his body probably blocked out memories of Sherlock to save itself. Sherlock was Johnless for a while, and that was hell for everyone involved." She blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Now, he's back in the same flat he used to live in, with John, and they're dating now, according to DI Lestrade, who works with them. But John still doesn't remember." Her brow furrowed. "So I'm in quite the mess with them."

Clara smiled. "I'll take that back. I don't know complicated as well as you. What's your name?"

"Dr. Molly Hooper."

"Clara..." She paused. "Watson."

Molly's eyes went wide. "Are you related to John, then?"

Clara groaned, putting her hands on her head. "No. Not anymore." Ugh, how did everything get this messed up?

"What do you mean?"

"I used to be married to his sister."

Her lips formed an O shape. "Complicated. You said you knew about it."

"Yep."

Molly nodded. "How did it happen?"

"Long story. She left me." Clara stared at her shoes.

"Are you still in love with her?"

Clara didn't need to think about the answer. "Yes, but I wish I wasn't."


Harry stood by the entrance to Tesco. Clara's shift was supposed to have ended, but she needed to stay there. The wall she leaned against kept her from falling over. She was tired, beyond tired. Sherlock's little excursion had destroyed a few hours of already sparse sleep, and she destroyed a few more by coming to Tesco, so she was basically done. If she fell asleep there, hopefully someone would pull her over to a couch.

"Hey, Harry," a kind woman's voice said.

Harry just barely looked up through heavily-lidded eyes. "Hi, Kate."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm loitering, I'm just really tired." Her tone was pretty hostile. It came out when she couldn't at least somewhat filter her words. "My brother's stupid boyfriend made me go through files for hours last night. I'm sorry, I'll try to move." She pushed off the wall and fell flat on her face, barely catching herself with her hands.

"You should really rest, Harry," Kate told her in the mom voice she used sometimes. "I'll walk you to your car."

"I don' have a car," she mumbled. "Took a cab."

"I'll hail a cab for you then."

"And how the hell do you expect me to get in?" Harry glared daggers at Kate. "Just lay me down with a blanket in your break room. You're the manager, aren't you? You can authorize that."

Kate sighed. "Sometimes you remind me of a man I met once. Tall, dark, handsome. I can give you a blanket and a chair, but I don't really have anything else for you." She lifted Harry up by the armpits and attempted to carry her.

"Don't even worry about it. If I have something to hold on to, I can sort of walk." Harry held on tight to Kate's shoulders, and Kate half-dragged her across the store. She was about to lead Harry down the aisle with poisonous chemicals, but turned abruptly into a different aisle, jostling Harry's grip significantly. "What the hell was that for?"

"That aisle has a spill."

Hm, lying or not lying? "Whatever," Harry muttered.

The break room was in the very back of the store. Kate shoved the door open with her foot, pulling Harry through with her. A chair, soft and comfortable, stood in the corner. Harry nearly melted just looking at it. "Now, stop that," the manager said, struggling to keep the exhausted woman on her feet.

"Sorry."

The chair couldn't come quick enough. As soon as Harry sat in it, she could feel her mind drifting away. She almost didn't care whether she had a blanket. "Now, you can stay here until you wake up, or until Tesco closes, whichever comes first," Kate's soft voice was saying, but Harry really didn't give a crap about what she was saying.


Clara and Molly talked for a while longer, having to sit down in the aisle. Pretty soon, both of them were crying. "One Christmas, he deduced me in the most horrible way. He had no idea I liked him until he deduced the present I'd given him. Sherlock doesn't get those kind of things, he never has, but from what I've heard, he really cares about John." Molly smiled through her tears. "John is like Sherlock's heart. Without him, Sherlock is only a great man, not a good man. And the good man is better for all of us."

"I was always the heart. Harry sometimes had a hard time telling me how she felt, showing it. She loved me, I'm sure of it, otherwise we wouldn't have gotten married, but I don't know anything about her anymore. She could be thinking about suicide or depressed, and I wouldn't know, and I wouldn't be able to do anything." Clara sniffed. "I'm so worried that someday I'll see her obituary in the newspaper, and John would have to write it, and it would be so awful, I would die too."

Molly nodded. "What happened between you two?"

"She started drinking, and it got really bad, but I kept thinking she would get out of it. Harry didn't, and it only got worse. Finally, one night, she said she was going to go to save me from herself." Clara looked at her hands. "She was drunk, so she probably didn't mean it. In her mind, she was probably a knight in shining armor, a martyr."

"You don't give her enough credit," Molly said, putting a finger under Clara's chin to lift her head up. "Why do you think she comes in here every day you work?"

"She wants to get more of her stuff back?"

Molly gently smacked her upside the head. "Harriet wants to see you. If she wanted to divorce you, why would she come back here, the last place she knew you worked, every single day, looking for you? She would have given up and just called you if she wanted something stupid."

Clara blinked at her. "Harry still loves me?"

"She at least wants to stay near you."

Clara stood up. "I have to find her. I need to set this straight."

"Yes, good!" Molly looked like an eager puppy.

"I need to tell her to stop and that we both need to move on."

The pathologist shook her head rapidly. "What?! You love her! And she obviously feels something for you!"

Clara smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. "I'm done with feeling stabbed every time I wake up without her next to me. I'm done with missing her. We need to find new people, it's best for both of us." She began to walk away.

Molly grabbed her hand and yanked her back. "Don't. You love each other, and you both really can't function well without each other."

"But I don't want to be in a codependent relationship."

"Codependency is someone assisting the destructive behavior of their partner. You don't assist Harry's drinking, and you have an otherwise healthy relationship. My grandmother drank and my grandfather didn't assist her. He, in fact, helped her recovery." Molly gave her a stern look. "You and Harry can be the same way. Now calm down, and finish your shift."

Clara looked at Molly for a long time. "Thank you."

The pathologist smiled. "You're welcome, Clara." Molly picked up her groceries, including the hydrogen peroxide, and went to check out. Clara headed into the break room to apologize to Kate. She wasn't doing her job, and although she was infinitely better now, that didn't enable her to break contracts.

"Kate!" she called into the room. "I'm sorry I took so long. Molly and I..." Clara stopped short when she got inside. On the chair laid a woman Clara hadn't seen in months.

"Harry," she whispered.

Her hair was mussed, eyes closed, and she looked like she was sleeping soundly. Clara smiled a little when she remembered how Harry slept like the dead. Someone, most likely Kate, had put a blanket over her. She stared a few minutes longer, just rememorizing her ex-wife's (?) face, and then went back into the main portion of the store. Kate had to be around here somewhere.

Clara found her in Aisle Ten, helping someone find the frozen meals. "Hello," she said, flashing a smile at the customer. "May I speak with the manager for a moment?" The man, wearing a dark coat and blue scarf, blushed.

"Sorry, Tom," Kate told him. "Can you find everything on your own?"

"I think so," he replied.

"Hey, Tom?" Clara suddenly said. "There's someone I want you to meet. In the line for checkout, you'll find a pretty woman with her hair in a braid. Her name is Molly." He nodded, but looked pretty confused. "You'll like her, I think you'll hit it off."

"Alright. Thank you." Tom headed over to check out, his hands nervously folded around his basket.

Clara smiled. "I think it'll work out," she told Kate.

Kate gave her the Stern Stare. "I had to drag your ex-wife into the break room because she was too tired to stand. For the sake of everyone involved, you should do something about her and do something for yourself."

Clara held up a hand. "Molly and I had this conversation. I'm going to try this for a little while. I'm sorry that it interrupts everyone's lives."

"It's alright." Kate smiled slightly. "Go get her. Maybe you two can be civil after all this time."

Clara smiled back and smoothly went back to the break room. It was nice feeling like Kate cared more about her than the work. Refreshing. The door to the room was still ajar, Clara not having closed it when she left the first time. Harry hadn't moved a muscle, it felt like, not a joint shifted nor a hair out of place. She carefully tiptoed forward, making sure her shoes didn't squeak on the floor. When Clara finally reached Harry's side, she knelt next to the sleeping woman. Harry looked more like a girl while asleep, though. Clara remembered that.


In Harry's really fuzzy mind, since she wasn't exactly awake, she could vaguely hear someone come into the room. Wherever she was. The person was quiet, like keeping her asleep was important. Obviously, Johnny's crazy boyfriend didn't share that opinion!

Soon, there was a warm spot next to Harry's arm. Not the blanket, but human warmth. It smelled like perfume, like cherry.

Wait, it couldn't be cherry. Clara had moved on, there was no reason why she would be here. So, not-cherry.

"Hi," the woman whispered. "I'm going to tell you a secret. But I know you won't hear me." She ran a soft hand up Harry's palm. "You can't get rid of me that easily. I still love you, despite everything that we've been through." The woman laughed. "Maybe because of what we've been through. But we'll work this out." She leaned down and kissed Harry, not enough to wake her, but enough to make her mind take notice. The woman wore lipgloss too.

...

When Harry woke up, the manager of Tesco stood over her. "It's closing time. You need to leave now, sorry."

Harry blinked a few times. "What time is it?"

"Around nine pm." Yes, five hours of sleep!

"Okay. Thanks for letting me use your break room," she said, slipping off the blanket and standing up.

"Just don't make a habit of it," Kate answered.

Harry walked out and smiled, but as she did, she felt a stickiness on her lips. Taking a sniff, she could smell the tiniest amount of cherry. Cherry lipgloss. Weird. Maybe someone pranked her.


Clara walked out of her shift with a little less lipgloss on than she started with going in, and a sense of hope that she and Harry would be alright.