*massively big group hug for all the reviewers* Thank you so much, guys :)

And to see whether Kate is alright, read on...

Chapter 40

Clara stood in the doorway and tried her best not to think about the kiss. She couldn't think about that just yet, so instead, she was determined to focus on John and the phone call. From his face, she could tell that the news was anything but good and she waited patiently for him to thank whoever was on the other end of the line. They didn't exchange more than a few words before he hung up and turned to look at her, his features weary and grave.

"Bad news?" Clara wanted to know.

John nodded slowly as if he still needed a moment to let it sink in. "It's Kate," he replied. "She's in hospital."

"Not anything bad, I hope?" Clara liked Kate and her children would be worried if it was something serious, so she prayed that it wasn't, but from the way John helplessly stood in the middle of the hotel room, she really couldn't tell.

"Osgood didn't say," he explained. As he spoke, John didn't look at her, but his eyes kept wandering around the room, failing to stay still. If there was anything more to it, if Osgood had told him the reason, John didn't say and Clara didn't know what else to do, so she stepped forward and gently place her hand on his arm, granting him a smile.

"Our plane leaves at seven and you can go straight to the hospital once we're back," Clara assured him. "In the meantime, I doubt there's anything you can do."

His mind was somewhere else entirely, but he still nodded, no doubt wishing that there was something he could do instead of being stuck in London. At last, he spoke again. "Kate wanted to take the investigation a little further, she wanted to find out more about Ciaran O'Neill," he explained, his speech slow and thoughtful. "I just hope it has nothing to do with that."

At the mention of Ciaran O'Neill, Clara suddenly flinched and she had to agree with John. If Ciaran O'Neill was involved in whatever had happened to Kate... No, she shouldn't think about that now. Tomorrow, they would find out and if it really was bad, his colleague would have told him.

"We should try to get some sleep," Clara said, once reason won her over. "We have to get up in a couple of hours."

When John merely nodded, Clara finally let go of his arm and took a step back. There was no reaction from him, so she turned around to leave as the image of the kiss came back to the forefront of her mind. Clara tried her best to push it away. Not now. She couldn't think about it now, no matter how much she had enjoyed it. She had to leave.

"Clara?"

John's voice held her back and made her turn around once again. There he was, standing in the middle of the room, smiling softly at her and Clara's heart sank into her boots at the sight of him. How had she slipped into this mess?

"Yes?" she asked carefully.

"Goodnight," John wished her, but even though his lips only said two simple words, his eyes said so much more. They thanked her for the lovely afternoon, they told her he had enjoyed it and they betrayed that he had loved the kiss as much as she had.

"Goodnight," Clara replied and finally retreated to her own hotel room before she could do or say something in her loneliness that she would later regret.

John had stopped thinking about the kiss and that was probably the only advantage. The downside of it was that he was still worrying about Kate and he still didn't know what had happened to her as he dropped Clara off at her house before driving straight to the hospital, anxious about what he was going to find. Even though Kate had repeatedly told him that she was his boss and not his partner, John still felt a twinge of guilt. Whatever had happened, maybe John could have prevented it. He should have been here.

John was relieved when he stepped into the hospital room and found Kate sitting upright in her bed, a book laid across her lap and she had obviously heard him enter because his boss looked up and smiled. "I didn't expect to see you here," she remarked. "I thought you hated hospitals."

"I do," John confirmed as he pulled up a chair to sit down next to her. "But when Osgood called to tell me you were here, she wouldn't say what was wrong. I was worried."

Kate chuckled. "Well, you were worried unnecessarily. I'll be fine. They're going to discharge me tomorrow."

In response, John merely nodded towards the bandage around her head, but Kate rolled her eyes and it almost made him laugh. Even as a child, she had never liked making a fuss, but this time, it seemed a little worse than a skinned knee.

"I have a concussion, but the doctors say there's no major damage. They only kept me in for observation and I'll be absolutely fine after a few days of rest," she explained.

Assuming that what Kate told him was the truth, John really saw no reason to push it when she was going to be okay. However, he still narrowed his eyes at her as the next question popped into his head. "How did it happen?"

Kate paused for a moment before she gave a shrug. "I don't know. The last half hour before it happened is a little fuzzy, but the doctors say the memory might come back once the injury heals," she said. "I remember I was walking down a street and then… nothing. The most likely scenario is that someone struck me across the head. My bag was gone when I woke up. Maybe just a random robbery."

A random robbery on the streets of Kirkwall? It wasn't impossible, but highly unlikely. "And if it wasn't a random robbery?"

For a long while, Kate just looked at him as if she wasn't entirely sure what to do next. After exhaling sharply, she eventually turned around and opened the drawer of her bedside table. John waited patiently as she retrieved an envelope that by now had a couple of creases and she handed it over without saying a word. Frowning, John opened it and several black and white photographs came to light, but they weren't of Kirkwall or anywhere else on this island. They were photos of a busy London street.

"What are these?" John asked, but his question was answered when he started to skim through them. One of the photos depicted an accident and somehow, he knew that it had to be Danny Pink.

"I did a little digging," Kate explained. "A tourist was taking pictures just before Danny Pink's accident happened. Could you see if you can get them enlarged a little?"

John nodded and pocketed the envelope. "I'll take care of it straight away," he promised. "Anything else?"

"Whoever arrived on this island a week before Bonnie Moore's death," she went on, "they used Clara's passport."

John wrinkled his forehead. He had asked Clara whether she had been back to London, but she might have gone somewhere else. He would ask her about it, but somehow, he doubted that the traveller was indeed Clara. "I don't think it was her."

"Then I assume Miss Oswald is currently short of a passport," Kate said.

"I'll ask her about it," John said and rose to his feet. His boss wouldn't want him to linger out of politeness. It was best if he got to work straight away. "I'd better pick up my dog now or he'll think I abandoned him."

"He's staying with Osgood," Kate told him with a smile.

He nodded in reply. "Thanks. For everything," John said. "And you rest!"

His voice was strict and to underline the meaning, John pointed at her. The last thing he heard was Kate's laugh as he turned around and headed out of the room, glad to get away from the hospital smell, and glad that Kate was going to be fine.