Sorry for the late update! And thank you for your lovely reviews :) Of course it's a date between John and Clara, there's no denying that ;)

Chapter 26

"My favourite bit will always be where they decide not to go to Camelot because it's silly," Clara chuckled before she lifted the cup of hot chocolate to her mouth and blew on the steaming beverage to cool it. Because the February evening was chilly, John had suggested grabbing a cup so they could stay warm on the way to the car. Yet despite her warm coat and the cocoa, Clara seemed cold. John thought there was something adorable about the way she looked right now, wrapped up in a parka with only her funny nose sticking out of the furry hood. When she spoke again, John realised that he had been so focused on the sight next to him that he had completely forgotten to listen.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quickly. "You were saying?"

Again, Clara chuckled. It was nice to hear her laugh after everything that had happened. "I was asking what your favourite part was."

"Oh, that's easy," John replied with a grin. "It's the Black Knight."

"Good choice," Clara remarked as they continued their walk towards where he had parked his car and then she grew quiet again, focusing only on her hot chocolate. John assumed that in those moments, she remembered everything that was going on and no matter how often she claimed to be fine, he could tell that it wasn't true, not entirely. He took Clara for a strong woman, one who hated showing even the tiniest hint of weakness.

"You know it's okay, don't you?" he asked.

Clara turned her head, her large, dark eyes looking at him out of the furry cocoon that was the hood of her coat. "What do you mean?"

"It's okay not to be okay with what's happening," John explained and cringed at the choice of his own words. He wasn't good at this, he wasn't good at comforting people, but he wanted to make an earnest attempt for Clara. "There are some things we should never be okay about."

It took her a moment, but eventually, Clara seemed to catch on when she realised what he was talking about. "I didn't even know her," she said with a shrug, but from the look in her eyes, John could tell that she wasn't as stone-cold as she appeared to be. "I didn't know she existed until I saw her dead body."

For just a second, Clara glanced away when she answered him and it confirmed John's theory. "She was still your sister. I don't blame you for… well, whatever emotion you feel. Anger, sadness. It's okay."

With a sigh, Clara turned her head to look straight ahead. "I just want to get this all over with," she admitted. "I just want to forget everything that has happened and move on."

"But you can't?" John asked carefully.

Clara nodded next to him and to him, it seemed as if her thoughts were miles away.

"You shouldn't worry about the statement tomorrow," he told her. "It's going to be fine."

"I'm not worried," Clara replied a little too quickly for it to be the truth. Everyone, no matter if they were innocent or guilty, was at least a little worried about giving a statement at the police station and it was a completely normal reaction. Even John was nervous on her behalf. Kate hadn't spoken to him since he had shared the note with her, at least not when it wasn't absolutely necessary, and John worried about what the interview would be like. Of course, Kate had every reason to be angry at him, but the last thing he wanted was for her to take it out in Clara. Whatever was going to happen tomorrow afternoon, the thought about it had kept John up the previous few nights.

"If you want to, I can be there, too," he suggested eventually.

When she raised her eyebrows, John could tell that Clara wasn't entirely convinced. "Will Kate allow that?"

John shrugged. "I'm working this investigation as much as she is," he said casually. "I have every right to be there when she questions you."

"What sort of questions do you think she's going to ask me?"

He felt a fluttering in his stomach, a tiny hint of guilt because he knew he shouldn't be talking about the investigation with Clara, not like this. Kate would throw a fit if she overheard their conversation. To Kate, Clara was a suspect, ridiculous as it seemed, and if he was completely honest, John didn't know what to expect from Kate any longer.

"I'm not sure," he admitted after a while. "I suppose she's going to ask if you knew her."

"I already told you that," she replied and there was a hint of annoyance in her voice, something John understood completely. He was also annoyed with Kate's behaviour even though, strictly speaking, he had brought it on himself.

"I'm sorry the interviewing of that guy wasn't fruitful," John said. A part of him really just wanted to apologise because he still felt like the man had had a connection to Bonnie and another part of him just wanted to change the subject. It didn't matter that she was innocent, John shouldn't help Clara prepare her statement. That was wrong on so many levels.

"What did you make of him?" Clara wanted to know and finally, she took a sip of her hot chocolate after it had cooled down enough for her to drink it.

John exhaled sharply. "I think Ciaran O'Neill is full of shit," he said. "Excuse the language. But Kate is right: we have nothing on him and being creepy isn't a good enough reason for an arrest. You haven't seen him again, have you?"

For a moment, Clara said nothing at all and when he turned his head to see what was wrong, John thought that her eyes had widened in horror or shock or both. Then the look on her face was gone before he could be sure it was really what he had seen.

"O'Neill? That's his name?" Clara asked and continued to sip her cocoa.

John nodded in reply, but he couldn't help the frown that appeared on his face as he watched Clara's reaction. "Is everything okay?" he wanted to know, his voice careful. "Why do you ask? Does that name ring a bell? Have you seen him again?"

"I, uh," she said and paused. "I'm not sure. I might have seen him around the school, but he was gone before I could be sure it was him."

For some reason, John thought there was more to it than that, but it didn't matter right now. What mattered was the fact that Clara thought she had seen him. John stopped dead in his tracks and when Clara noticed, she came to a halt as well. "Is that man stalking you?" he demanded to know and he felt a sudden flash of anger rise up inside him. "Because if he is, I'll have him back at the station by tomorrow!"

"Calm down!" Clara told him determinedly. "I said I wasn't sure. It could have been a different man who looks like him."

"I don't believe that," John insisted firmly. "There's something fishy about him."

To his great surprise, Clara suddenly uttered a loud groan as she rolled her eyes at him. He was about to ask what bothered her when she already followed with the complaint that was weighing on her mind. "I wanted an ordinary evening at the cinema," she said exasperatedly, dropping her shoulders. "I wanted to go out, have fun, talk to you. I didn't want it to be all about the case again."

For a moment, John was going to argue that he just wanted to make sure she was okay, but he eventually thought better of it because when he looked at Clara, he saw a woman who had had her life turned upside down, a woman who was thrown into the middle of a murder mystery, and more than anything, a woman who probably wanted nothing more than a friend.

"Sorry," he apologised instead. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the evening… again."

It took a while, but after a few seconds, Clara's features lit up. "It's becoming a pattern," she remarked with a shrug.

John chuckled softly and mimicked her gesture when he shrugged as well. "I suppose you'll have to give me a chance to make it up to you," he said before he could think better of it and only after he had spoken the words, he realised how silly it sounded. Clara Oswald would have better things to do than to hang out with him. Yet in response, she smiled so earnestly that he somehow knew it was a yes. John wanted to ask, he wanted to know why, why him, but he didn't get the chance when Clara suddenly hooked her arm through his and softly pulled him in the direction of the car.

"Thank you though," she said after a while. "For listening to me."

"Um," John said, "you're welcome."