The call had gone considerably well up to this point—Clara had easily made contact with one of UNIT's chief officers. But now…now this. She was crying, and Sherlock had absolutely no idea what to do about it. He took the phone and ended the call, then turned back to the mystery that was in front of him. Was he supposed to say something? Or leave her alone? Pretend she wasn't crying? What?!
Alarm bells were going off in his mind palace. And then he had an epiphany. Tissues! Sherlock knew he had some around…..somewhere….he did a quick mental survey of the mess around him and quickly unearthed the box from beneath a pile of newspapers. He gave her the box, but she didn't stop crying.
Male humans have been found to become less attracted to females at the scent of their tears.
Where on earth did Sherlock's brain unearth that little factoid from? And why at this particular moment? Because she's crying, and it was just an interesting piece of information. That's all. Not because….
But Clara had stopped crying now, so Sherlock allowed himself the rare pleasure of leaving his thoughts behind.
A few minutes later, Clara, having sufficiently calmed herself down, pressed the call button once more.
"Hi, Mark," she said, twisting her voice into something that she hoped sounded chipper and cheery. It didn't fool Sherlock, but Mark was almost certainly not as smart as Sherlock. "It's Clara Oswald again. Can you put me through to Kate?"
"Of course," the receptionist replied, and the line clicked.
"Hello," Kate said.
"Hi. Sorry about that," Clara said.
"No worries, I still haven't totally accepted it either."
"Yeah. Um, listen….I was wondering if I could see the TARDIS?"
There was a pause. "Well…um, there's going to be paperwork."
"I'm a teacher, I can do paperwork."
"Right. Um. Okay, I suppose I can get a file started and have you come pick it up. Will tomorrow work?" Kate didn't wait for a reply. "Come to the Tower sometime after 10, and tell the gatekeeper "Pond." The Doctor's favorite code word. Not sure why we're still using it, but anyways…" she sighed, "I hope to see you soon, Clara."
"Me too. Thanks Kate. And sorry again for the…well, you know."
"Again, no worries."
"Right. Bye."
Clara hung up the phone and handed it back to Sherlock, running her fingers through her hair and pressing hard into her temples.
"This is good, isn't it?" Sherlock asked, still caught off guard.
"Yeah, I suppose," she said heavily. "At least now we get to do something."
"Yes. Listen, I can, um, send someone to get the folder tomorrow. Make it easier for you?" he said the last part as a question, not entirely sure whether it was true or not, but Clara broke into a tired smile.
"That would actually be really good, thank you."
He felt a moment of pride, and, determined not to let the silence last too long between them, said, "Good, then."
"Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yes. Goodbye, Clara."
She turned to leave the flat, feeling something inexplicable hovering in the air between her and Sherlock, something a little bit sad and a little bit strange but mostly kind of….okay.