Hey guys, long-time no see!

Here's a DW fanfic, cuz I've been wanting to write on for SO-FRIGGIN-LONG!

Critique, pls?

"What's in a name?" I pondered aloud, a rhetorical question asked to the empty atmosphere of a T.A.R.D.I.S. corridor. "Is it a label…?" I smirked, "A nature, an attitude, a…" I brushed my long fingernails over a doorway, only to lick my finger. This was a bedroom.

I opened the door, pushing the button on my sonic device. I still didn't know what to call it. The Doctor had a screwdriver… What is mine? "Is a name… a home?" I smiled at the room. Bunk beds lined the walls and each bed had a name on it. This was his companion room. Susan, Ian, Barbara, Vicki… Steven, Taylor, Katarina, Dodo, Ben, Polly…. I skipped forward a bit and around a corner and found myself on the doctor's ninth regeneration.

Rose… The wall next to the bed was crowded with pictures of her and Mickey. I never liked him… neither did the Doctor. I inhaled deeply, taking in that rose perfume she always wore… No matter how light it was, the control room always smelled of it after they left.

Jack…. Jack Harkness. He almost found me once, when he was wondering about the T.A.R.D.I.S., I had to hide in the pool (read a few books, learned I liked Harry Potter more than I thought,) then he almost found me changing after that. Ha! He would've liked that, the little player.

Donna, Martha, the Ponds…. I always loved the ginger companions, making the Doctor jealous just with the color of their hair.

Oh, then there's his good friends, the ones that stuck. There was a bed for Madame Vastra, Jenny, and Strax. They were always my favorite.

At the end of the row of beds, there was a smaller bed, a dog bed, With the name "K-9" written in a sharpie on the wall above. He was the only one who knew I existed. He sometimes ran about the T.A.R.D.I.S. with me whenever I got lonely. I was called "Mistress" to him, even though I insisted several times on being called by my name.

Beyond the dog bed, there was a door. Opening it, I walked into a master bedroom, with a very Victorian feel. Unlike the normal spacey-bluish lighting of the corridors and normal room of the T.A.R.D.I.S., this room had soft, rosey-red lighting, making the crimson silk sheets of the bed look luscious. I laughed. This "sexy" room was one for the Doctor and River. The walls were polka-dotted with wedding pictures between the two and white roses in baskets.

But my smile soon faded when a shadow ran into the room behind me.

"Who are you?" A girl's voice. Not the Doctor. Whew.

I slowly turned around to see her. Wide eyes, shoulder-length chocolate, straight hair, with similar colored eyes. She wore a light-brown, long overcoat and a red shoulder-bag, with blue skinny-jeans. I smiled again. "He doesn't have the time to make one for you… Been so busy trying to find you out!"

"Wha-what do you mean? Answer me. Who are you? Why does the Doctor have a girl in the T.A.R.D.I.S?"

Girl? Oh wait… this is the nanny-one. The new one. I started a slow clap. "Very well done. The Doctor has a girl in is T.A.R.D.I.S!" She tilted her head.

"Who are you? Does the Doctor even know you're here?"

"Ha-ha! He's been getting the smart one, has he? Now you're asking the right questions. No, he doesn't know I'm here. That's one answer. Ask another good question and I'll answer it."

"Okay… 'Cause it doesn't look like you'll answer any questions about yourself… Who are- or were- these people?" She motioned to the line of beds.

"Yay! Another good question. These people-" I stopped, to motion with a wide, sweeping arm, "Were you. Every-" Step, "Single-" Step, "One-" Step, "Of these people were just like you. Clara Oswald, you are not special."

She looked hurt, but she was a nanny! She knew how to stop bullying. "I am special. How many people are here… fifty? Fourty? Well, I'm one, in fourty, in the entire universe. I'd call that special! Besides, where did all these people go? Are they… dead?"

"Yup."

Shock. Fear. Anger. So many emotions rushed through her eyes.

I cackled. "Look at you! You're so… Human!"

"I'm leaving-" and there was a *BANG!* in the hallway to tell her to. "But before… at least tell me who. You. Are."

A smirk hovered on my lips. "But, dear, dear Clara…

"What's in a name?"