Irene watched Sherlock pour the wine and held up her hand to let him know there was enough in her glass. She inhaled, taking in the scent of the drink before taking a sip and nodding her head in appreciation.

"Did you choose this yourself?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," he replied quickly. He glanced up, though, and saw the look on her face. He sighed. "John picked it."

Irene smirked and took another sip. "So, Sherlock . . . last time we were alone together, we had dinner."

"And then some," Sherlock added.

"Yes," she agreed with that smart little smirk of hers. "And then some."

They were silent as they sat on the floor of the library in the TARDIS, enjoying the peace and quiet. With Sam and Clara off exploring and the Doctor and River taking a stroll, they finally had the privacy they had been wanting for weeks.

"With Moriarty after me I suppose I'll need protection," Irene mentioned.

"Yes, I suppose you will," Sherlock replied. "I'll have Mycroft arrange something with Lestrade, perhaps get you a place to stay with an armed guard, off the grid . . ."

"Sherlock," Irene said, raising her eyebrows.

Sherlock frowned, and then it dawned upon him. "Oh," he said. "Oh, yes. Of course. You could, ahem. You could just stay with me."

"What other offer could I take?" Irene asked, setting her glass aside and leaning over. "I'm Sherlocked." She laid a gentle kiss on his lips, and Sherlock stiffened. He still wasn't quite used to this particular form of affection – not to say he didn't enjoy it – but he found himself slightly . . . well, embarrassed. And that was not something that came lightly for him.

"Stop it, Sherlock," Irene whispered.

"Stop . . . what?" he frowned.

"Thinking. For God's sake, stop thinking. It's all you ever do. Don't you ever tire of sitting inside that brilliant little brain of yours all alone?"

"I'm not alone," Sherlock replied. "Even in my mind. No matter what I'm doing – if I'm in my mind palace or thinking up ways to anger my brother, you're always in my thoughts. So, no, Irene, I never tire of sitting in my mind because that's where you are."

"Oh, my God," Irene said.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" Sherlock felt nervous.

"You said everything right," she replied, pushing him onto the floor and kissing him deeply.

"I – I was only telling the truth," Sherlock said, surprised. "I don't see how that –"

"Sherlock," she whispered. "Stop talking now."

For once, he listened.


"Clara! Clara, are you okay?" Sam called desperately. They had been walking along when a crack formed under their feet. Sam slipped and fell backwards, but there was a crashing noise and the ground caved in, taking Clara with it.

Sam sighed with relief when he heard Clara giggling from down in the dark pit.

"I'm fine!" she called, standing and dusting herself off. She looked up – she had fallen maybe ten feet and was somehow unharmed. She could see Sam on his knees, looking over the gaping hole.

"How did a girl that weighs ninety pounds manage to crack a piece of pure gem?" Sam shook his head.

"Shut up, you, it must have already been hollow," she called, looking around. "This is quite pretty, actually." She rubbed her arms. "Chilly, though." She squinted. "There's a tunnel down here!"

"Here." Sam pulled his coat off and tossed it down to her. "Put that on and just, stay put. I'm going to go get the Doctor."

"Here, you'll need my key," Clara said, pulling her necklace off. The odd little key dangled next to a locket charm, and she tossed it to Sam. He caught it and shoved it in his pocket.

"I'll be right back," he promised, and went off to find the Doctor.

Humming, Clara pulled the sonic from her pocket and used it to light the way down the small tunnel. Gems stuck out of the walls and dusted the ground, crunching under her feet. There was a dripping noise, and she followed it. She eventually came to a large cavern, with a sparkling pond in the middle of it.

"Clara?" she heard the Doctor's voice from the tunnel. "Where are you?"

"Doctor, you have to see this," Clara called. A moment later, the Doctor arrived followed by all of the others.

"Oh, my," River breathed. She pulled a device from her pocket and pressing several buttons, scanning the area for lifeforms.

"This is brilliant!" the Doctor exclaimed with excitement. "A whole other system of roads and traveling access under the surface! Clara!" he grabbed her face and kissed her forehead. "You are brilliant!"

He babbled on, lighting a few torches and passing them out as he explained how such a thing could be possible. Sam joined Clara, shaking his head.

"You weren't supposed to wonder off," he reminded her.

"You weren't supposed to be such a stick in the mud," she teased, bumping him with her hip. Sam smiled and shook his head, wrapping his arm around her.

"You're really worried about Dean, aren't you?" Clara asked after a moment.

"Yeah." He sighed. "Uh, yeah, I am. He won't – he won't look at me, Clara."

"I know. Me either. I think he thinks I blame him. Which I don't," she added quickly. "I know it wasn't his fault, but . . . he doesn't." She squeezed his hand. "We'll fix this, Sam. It'll be alright."

Sam nodded, but he wasn't so sure. He was interrupted from his thoughts, though, when the Doctor yelled with joy.

"Look!"

He pointed at the highest wall, and Clara squinted, just able to make out the word etched into the wall.

Atlantis.

"Good God above," Irene whispered

"It isn't a lost civilization," the Doctor said, joy obvious. "It's a lost planet!"