"There's been another victim," Clara announced as she strode back into the room.

The band of investigators had gathered in John's hospital room while his arm was still healing. He was awake now, but he couldn't move from his bed. Sherlock sat next to him, and the Doctor sat in the chair. Clara crossed the room and perched on the chair's arm. Her face was grim.

Clara had gone to the TARDIS to phone Lestrade for any new infromation on the case. John had stopped wondering by now how the TARDIS was possible. They needed a plan B, and they needed it fast.

"Jeannette Frazier. She was a teacher at Coal Hill. I knew her."

John recognized the name. "Coal Hill. That's further East isn't it?" Clara nodded in confirmation. "Wait, you told me that you were new to London."

"Er, did I? I guess so. I'm sorry," she apologized sheepishly. "I wanted you to know as little about me as possible, but I'm never out in that part of London so I had no idea where Dadre could be hiding."

John shrugged (or at least tried to without moving his left arm). "Fair enough," he replied.

Beside him, Sherlock brought his legs up to cross them in front of him. He clasped his hands under his chin, and John could tell he had descended into the mind palace. "He's, uh, very deep in thought," John explained. "We won't be able to talk to him for a while."

The Doctor sighed in irritation. "The last time I had to capture a Raxacoricofallapatorian, she ended up staring into the heart of the TARDIS and turning into an egg. Another time, I took a few out with a missile." He grimaced. "I was much younger then. Much crueler. I was still fresh from the war."

"Two sided," Sherlock murmured. "John, we need a mousetrap."

"What's that, Sherlock?" John asked. When Sherlock didn't acknowledge him, John placed a hand on his shoulder. Sherlock jumped while blinking rapidly. "What did you say about a mousetrap?"

Before Sherlock could answer, the Doctor leaped from his chair as if being propelled by a rocket. "A mousetrap!" he shouted. "Ah, that's brilliant!"

"We need her to let her guard down," Sherlock explained quickly. "If two of us allow ourselves to be captured, the other two could sneak up behind."

Clara had settled into the chair while the Doctor was pacing. "Would that work?" she asked.

"We saw how easy it was for you to sneak up behind her. We just have to engage her in pursuit, then split up. Whoever she chases will be caught, while the other two double back."

The Doctor laughed suddenly, drawing all eyes to him. "With the stun guns I have on the TARDIS, we'll need two hits to take a Raxacoricofallapatorian down. When her attention is on the back side, the person on the front side draws their gun and shoots."

John saw a few places where that plan could also go to Hell, but he trusted Sherlock's judgement. Living with the genius was like jumping through a waterfall to get to a cave behind it. If John hesitated and failed to jump with full force, he could be caught in the torrent and drowned or smashed against the rocks at the bottom. But if he charged behind Sherlock recklessly without question, he would jump through safely to the other side.

"Doctor, are you forgetting how fast she can run?" Clara asked. Her voice should have been shaking with fear, but it wasn't. She also held no false confidence. She was genuinely calm about the situation.

"She'll drag it out," Sherlock replied. "She enjoys it."

The door swung open, and Kylie stepped into the room. "How are you feeling, John?" she asked.

He hadn't even noticed when the I.V. stopped. "Much better," he replied. "This is amazing."

Kylie set about removing the tube. As amazing as this place was, John hoped that this plan B of theirs didn't just land them all back here; or worse, in the morgue. In just four hours, his broken arm had been completely healed. Now he was about to rush back into danger without missing a beat. 'You're addicted to the rush,' Sherlock had once told him. He was right, as John proved over and over again. Even now, he wasn't afraid. He was excited.

With the I.V. out, only a small band-aid showed that his arm had been injured at all. Even the scratches from Dadre's claws had healed. He shuddered as he remembered the feel of her digging into his arm. That was a scenario he was hoping to avoid this time around.

"You all are free to go," Kylie informed them. "Just don't do anything rash and end up back here in an hour."

The four investigators looked at each other and laughed.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Dadre knew that she should stay low, but she was powerless against the bloodlust. She didn't even take anything from the human she had killed. Instead, she tore her body to shreds, venting all her frustration.

At some point, early on, it occurred to Dadre that she should feel some remorse for murdering her victims. Even after all these years, she had yet to feel even a sliver of guilt. It was no surprise that she was the most wanted criminal back home. Everyone was terrified of her.

She had been an assassin, but she found that job surprisingly dull. Back then, she had been forced to make clean kills. There was no playing with the victim. Dadre killed for the fun of it. She loved the rush of bloodlust as she could made her victims suffer. She loved the game of cat and mouse, especially when she held the mice in their trap with no hope of escape.

Studying the bodies was an added bonus. Dadre was fascinated by the internal workings of alien species, even if she had no interest in them besides killing them. So she dissected each figurative mouse she caught.

Her side still hurt from where the human girl had stabbed her. Dadre had gotten to careless. The humans were much smarter than she had given them credit for, plus she hadn't expected to see the Time Lord. Normally, Dadre would take the chance and escape, but her pod had crashed into the British countryside late at night, leaving her stranded here.

Dadre considered herself lucky that she hadn't been wearing the perception filter when the humans attacked. It would never have survived the shock that Time Lord had given her. Without it, she wouldn't be able to continue roaming the streets of London.

The humans wouldn't let her go. They would come for her again. This time, Dadre would have to kill them. A cold grin spread across her face. She would enjoy it.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

The familiar humming of the TARDIS was a relief to Clara. The old girl (as the Doctor called her) had been growing on her. "I've never been so happy to see you," she replied, stroking the console gently.

The Doctor muttered something under his breath about a mirror. Clara ignored him as she made her way to the other side. "Out of curiosity, how were we able to afford the best hospital in the universe."

"Oh, let's just say that I paid long ago," the Doctor replied vaguely.

His answer would have to be enough. Clara knew better than to push when he used that tone of voice. "Ready to take us back into danger?" she asked the TARDIS.

She noticed John giving her an amused look. A long time ago, she might have been embarrassed, but now she only smiled. "He's rubbed off on me, unfortunately."

"Clara, do you know where the stun guns are?" the Doctor asked.

"Sure do. I'll go fetch them. John, wanna help?"

John nodded eagerly, unable to resist the chance to explore the TARDIS. Clara beckons him to follow her down the long hallway, and he does.

As they walk down the winding hall, Clara studies his face. His eyes are alight with wonder. He looks years younger, childlike even. They pass open doors leading into bedrooms, libraries, kitchens, swimming pool. The halls are much darker than they used to be, but the TARDIS turns the ceiling lights on as they go. She is pleased to have John aboard. Clara can feel her gentle hum of approval.

"She likes you," Clara commented. "Lucky. She used to hate me."

John smiled so innocently and so brightly that Clara wondered if he was even aware of it. "How can you tell?"

"When you travel with the Doctor long enough, you learn to understand her," she explained.

"How long have you been traveling with him?"

"Oh, a few years now," Clara answered. "Though it seems like its been no time at all."

Clara turned the corner into an even darker hall. "We must be getting close," she said. "He hates guns, you see. That's why he's got them as far away as possible."

They fell back into silence. Finally, the pair reached a room at the end of the hallway. A large, metal door loomed in front of Clara. She reached out somewhat hesitantly to turn the cold doorknob.

"She doesn't like us being here," she said to John as she pushed open the door. The room was almost pitch black. Clara felt her way along the wall where the stun guns were hanging. She grabbed them and almost ran back to the doorway. She didn't like being in there either. The room felt forbidden.

She shut the door behind her quickly and handed John one of the guns. He followed her back down the hallway. It was a relief to see the lights come back on. "So, how long have you and Sherlock known each other?"

"A little more than a year now. It feels like I've known him forever."

"Yeah, people like that have a way of doing that to you. They make you forget you were ever able to have a life without them in it," Clara replied wistfully.

"Yes," John voiced his agreement. "And at the first sound of danger, they can make you come running."

"And even though they can be insufferable, you can't help but love them."

Clara turned to meet John's eyes. They were both smiling brightly. "You see horrors," he continued.

"And wonders! This life- it's a mousetrap!" Clara froze at the realization. "You're enticed by promises of adventure, excitement, and danger, and you can't leave until it kills you."

John placed his hand on Clara's shoulder. "But it's worth it."

"Absolutely."

The lights overhead flickered before going out. The humming shut off abruptly, leaving Clara and John in pitch black silence.