It's been asked for. I've been given ideas for it. I've come up with a few of my own. So, here it is. This will contain the answers that you've been seeking after reading Unplanned. It will basically be a series of interconnected one-shots that may not necessarily be in chronological order. Try to keep up, okay? I'll try to make this fun for everyone.

Chapter 1: What's In A Name?, Intimacy, and Indecent Proposal

Title: What's In A Name?

Rating: K+

Summary: After recieving surprising news, the Doctor and Clara have an important decision to make.

Takes Place between the incident in the warehouse and the end of the story.

There was so much blood. The Doctor had seen blood before. He had seen a lot of it. He just hadn't seen so much of Clara's. It had been all over the ground at the warehouse. It was all over his clothes. He'd almost rode in the ambulance with Clara, but he had ultimately decided to take the TARDIS. He would get there quickly and still have time to attend to his own wounds and change his clothes. He didn't think that if- when Clara survived, he sharply corrected himself, she would want to see him soaked in her blood. After changing, he set the time and place to the hospital that Clara would be going to, making sure to arrive a few minutes after she had. Not too long, though. He quickly ran up to the woman at the front desk and said, "Clara Oswald. I'm her friend. Is she-"

The woman had started looking the name up the moment the Doctor had said it. Looking up, the nurse said, "She's in surgery. I'll tell them that you're here."

She directed him to a place where he could sit. With a frustrated sigh, the helpless Time Lord sat down in a chair and hung his head in defeat. He felt so helpless. He was almost never helpless. There was currently nothing he could do, though. He had thought about travelling back in time to prevent this from happening to Clara, but there was a paradox to consider. All that the Doctor could do was hope that Clara survived. She had lost a lot of blood. So much blood. And the look on her face, the look on her face when she realized that she had lost their child was seared into his brain. Would she be able to recover from that? How well would she be able to cope with the loss of the brown-haired, brown-eyed little boy that could have been? The Doctor wasn't even sure how well he'd cope with it. It would be even harder if he were to lose Clara to the injuries that had been inflicted upon her. Letting out a frustrated groan, the Doctor reached up and tugged his own hair before releasing it and letting the arm that wasn't in a sling rest on his thigh, hand hanging between his legs. He just sat like that, waiting for many hours without any sort of news. Finally, a blonde-haired man in scrubs approached him. "Are you with Clara Oswald?" the man asked.

"Yes." the Doctor replied quickly, standing up at once. "Is she..."

The man smiled and said, "It was touch and go for a while and she had lost a lot of blood, but she's going to be fine. They both are, both her and the baby."

"The baby?" the Doctor tried to say, but it came out half-wheezed.

The Time Lord felt his knees begin to buckle, but he managed to keep standing. The expression on his face was one of stunned disbelief. The human male nodded and said, "Congratulations. You have a little boy. The bullet hit him in the leg, but we're taking good care of him. With any luck, he'll heal quite nicely. He's slightly early, but otherwise healthy."

The Doctor struggled for words- a rare occasion indeed- before finally asking, "When can I see her?"

"A nurse will get you when she wakes up." the blonde man replied.

The blond man seemed in a hurry to leave. He was turning to walk away when the Doctor called out, "Wait!"

The blonde man turned back to the Doctor and asked, "What is it?"

"I'd like to be the one to tell her." the Time Lord said insistantly.

"All right." the blonde man said. "I'll see what I can do."

With that, the man left. The Doctor sat back down in the chair and let out a sigh of relief. Clara was alive and so was their son. They had a son and he was healthy. The Doctor leaned back into the chair, a faint smile on his face. He meant to close his eyes for just a second. He hadn't realized just how exhausted he was, just how long it had been since he had slept properly. It was only natural that he drift off.

A few hours later, the Doctor felt someone shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see a brown-skinned woman with multi-braided hair looking at him. "She's awake." the woman said. "I can take you to her."

The Doctor nodded and stood up, allowing the nurse to lead him away. When he finally arrived at Clara's room, the Doctor saw that she was in pretty bad shape. Her arms were covered in bandages. He suspected that much of her torso, which had also been covered in knife wounds, was also covered in gauze and tape. She looked so weak, so tired. She looked so defeated. The Doctor never wanted to see her like that again. Clara raised her tired head and croaked out, "Doctor..."

The Time Lord immediately rushed to his companion's side. Without hesitation, he crouched down and took her hand in his. "Doctor, I'm sorry." Clara whispered.

"There is no reason for apologies." the Doctor said softly.

"I shouldn't have left the door unlocked." the impossible girl cried, berating herself. Her expession was one of utter defeat.

The Doctor kissed Clara's hand lightly and said, "Clara, listen to me. I have something you need to hear about the baby."

Clara looked away from the Doctor, fighting back tears. "I know, Doctor. He's gone."

"No, Clara." the Doctor said. "He's not. The bullet hit him in the leg, but he'll be-"

"My baby is alive?" Clara gasped.

"Alive and, aside from a bullet hole in his leg, very healthy." the Doctor said, a smile on his face.

Clara, with all of her unpredictable human emotions, surprised the Doctor when tears poured down her face. Her abused body shook with every sob. The Doctor's eyes widened in panic. "Clara? Clara! What's wrong?"

Clara continued to cry for a little longer before regaining her ability to speak. "It's not wrong. He's alive. Oh god, Doctor, he's alive! What do I do now?"

"Just get better." the Doctor replied. "He'll still be there."

Clara nodded, smiled, and whispered, "I think I'm still tired."

"Rest." the Doctor said, giving Clara's hand a gentle squeeze.

Clara's eyes began to drift shut. Suddenly, they opened again. "Doctor, your shoulder!" she gasped.

"Took the bullet out in the TARDIS." the Doctor replied. "Put my arm in a sling. Just rest."

"All right," Clara said firmly, "but you have to go back to the TARDIS and rest yourself."

"Yes, boss." the Doctor said sarcastically.

Clara laughed softly before closing her eyes with a sigh. It didn't take long for her to fall back to sleep, a look of contentment on her face.

ooooooooooooooo

In the days after that, Clara and the Doctor would both try to be in their son's company whenever possible. Clara made sure to put her mammary glands to proper use in feeding the infant. Of course, there was a decision to make, one that couldn't be held off for long. After finishing nursing the baby, Clara looked up at the Doctor and said, "He needs a name."

"Wonderful." the Doctor sighs. "Here comes the arguing."

"None of your suggestions of weird alien names have been any good!" Clara said, clearly irritated. "Do you have any normal suggestions?"

"Well," the Doctor said, "We could name him after the doctor who saved him."

Clara smiled and said, "That's actually a good idea."

It was good luck that a nurse came in to check on Clara. Immediately, the impossible girl asked, "Excuse me, but is it possible to talk to the person who delivered my baby?"

"Not right now," the nurse replied, "But we'll see if he can talk to you when he's free."

Clara nodded. She was willing to wait. When the person in question did finally arrive, it was a young man with pomaded blonde hair and incredibly blue eyes. It was the man that the Doctor had spoken to the night that his son had been born. Clara smiled at the blonde man and said, "I'd like to thank you for saving my baby."

The man smiled awkwardly and said, "It's what anyone in my position would do, Miss Oswald."

"I'd like to name my baby after you." Clara said. "What is your name?"

The man hesitated for a moment before replying, "My name is Harold Bumm."

Clara froze. She was silent for a moment before echoing, "Harold Bumm?

"Yes." Bumm said. "With two m's."

Clara was silent for a second before firmly saying, "No."

"'No' what, Clara?" the Doctor questioned.

"I am not naming my son after him." Clara said, keeping her voice firm.

"It's not a bad name." the Doctor said, not noticing the way Bumm seemed to be standing so awkwardly.

"Harold Bumm." Clara elaborated. "Harry Bumm, Doctor."

It took a second for it to sink in to the Doctor. When it finally registered his, his eyes widened. "I am not naming my son 'hairy bum'." Clara said harshly.

"Right." the Doctor said. "No hairy bums."

"Well," Bumm said awkwardly, "I should probably go. Since you find my name to be so bothersome and everything."

"Right." the Doctor said, clearly disinterested in the young blonde man's feelings. "Go, then."

The young man immediately left. Clara glanced out the door and asked, "Do you think we should apologize to him?"

"Nope." the Doctor replied without hesitation.

"You would think that." Clara snorted.

There was a brief silence before Clara said, "So, I'm out of ideas. Do you have any new ones, Doctor?"

"No." the Doctor replied with a frown. "None that you'd approve of."

A thoughtful expression appeared on Clara's face. "Maybe," the Impossible girl said before hesitating.

"Maybe what?" the Doctor inquired.

"Maybe we should go with Jack's idea." Clara suggested. "We could name him John Smith Oswald."

"John Smith Oswald?" The Doctor questioned.

"It was better than my first suggestion. I wanted to name him Ernest." Clara said with a shrug.

"Ew." the Doctor said with a scowl. "I still don't see why you won't let me name him-"

"Because I can't pronounce it, Doctor, and neither can anyone else on Earth." Clara interrupted the Time Lord with a frown.

There was a brief silence before Clara asked, "Is this really the best we can do, Doctor?"

The Time Lord shrugged and said, "Eh. Probably."

Clara shrugged as well and once more suggested, "John Smith Oslwald?"

The Doctor nodded and said, "John Smith Oswald it is, then."

oooooooooooooooooooo

Title: Intimacy

Rating: K+

Summary: Since coming home from the hospital, Clara has been oddly distant towards the Doctor. He can't help but wonder if it's his fault.

Takes Place two months after What's In A Name?

The Doctor's mind was a complicated thing that was never empty for long. Various things would occupy his thoughts. Those things could differ greatly in subject matter. Right now, however, there were two things that were at the forefront of his mind. One of them was his brand new son, John Smith Oswald. The other was the mother of said child, Clara Oswald. She and John had gotten out of the hospital around the same time and they were both recovering in relative comfort in the TARDIS. At his current age, John had fairly simple needs. That didn't mean that the little time tot had made it easy for either of his parents. Even the Doctor had started to feel worn out and had been forced to acknowledge his need for sleep. Sleep, of course, did not come easy or often with John utilizing his very healthy lungs to make his needs known. When John was supposed to be resting in his crib at night, he was instead awake and screaming. The Doctor or Clara had to react quickly to attend to the distressed infant. They would probably make better time, the Doctor decided, if Clara were to start sleeping closer to the nursery. That meant that she would be sleeping in the Doctor's room, in the Doctor's bed. He rather liked the idea. He'd gotten used to Clara lying next to him and had actually started to enjoy it. He would not at all mind falling asleep with her in his arms when he did go to bed. Unfortunately, when the Doctor suggested that she sleep in his room, pure panic appeared for a split second on Clara's face. She told him that she didn't want to impose and suggested that maybe he just have the TARDIS move her room a bit closer to the nursery.

The Doctor was still puzzled by this. Back when she was pregnant, she absolutely did not seem to mind being held by him when she slept. She would even seek it out. Why now, after John had been born, was she set on sleeping alone? It was a bit of a puzzle. The Doctor frowned. He didn't like it when Clara was confusing like this. He hated being confused. Another confusing thing right now- it was warmer in the TARDIS than it should be. He was currently trying to find out what was causing the problem. As he was examining the appropriate parts of the machine, he heard the soft sound of bare feet padding nearby. He glanced over his shoulder to see Clara looking at him. Rather than being in a light, cool nightie, she was dressed in a pair of pajamas that covered pretty much everything. To Clara's human body, they must have been uncomfortable in this temperature. In each hand, she held a nice, cold glass of lemonade. "I brought you something." Clara said with a soft smile.

The Doctor stood up from where he was crouched and took one of the glasses from his companion. He brought the drink to his lips and took a big sip. He then gave her a contemplative look. The silence lasted for a very short time before the Doctor said, "A bit hot in here, isn't it?"

"A bit." Clara agreed.

"It's the kind of temperature that one of your species would dress to be more comfortable in." the Doctor pointed out.

"I'm good." Clara said with a smile.

The Doctor frowned. He could tell she was lying. Quickly, he took one of her sleeves in his hand and began to roll it back as he said, "Look, if you're going to wear this, at least roll it back a bit so you won't be so-"

Clara quickly wrenched her sleeve from his grip and cried, "Don't touch me!"

The Doctor's expression was one of pure shock as he watched Clara pull her sleeve back down. She clutched her hands tightly together and said, "I'm going to take a cool shower. The temperature seems normal in John's room, but... um, I'll just wash."

The Doctor nodded and watched as Clara walked away. He was left with heavy hearts. Why didn't she want him to touch her? The Doctor frowned. Maybe it was because he hadn't been fast enough to save her from being harmed by her attacker. It was true that he hadn't. She'd be right to be angry with him. Had he not been so preoccupied, he might have put things together in time and been able to prevent her from being harmed.

As he resumed working on the damaged part, he continued to ponder possible reasons why she might have reacted that way. Why was she suddenly repulsed by him? Had her attraction to him suddenly faded? Humans were known to do that. The Doctor's frown deepened. She had told him that she loved him on two seperate occasions. Had she really meant it or was it simply the effects of her hormones? Had motherhood knocked some sense into her and rid her of her attraction to a mad old man? The more he thought about it, the less he liked the conclusion that it led to: a desperately miserable Clara, shackled to his side by obligation until their son was no longer a child. With all of the force he could muster, he shoved that thought to the side. He planned on keeping that thought at bay until he at least had the temperature control fixed. Then perhaps he could talk to Clara, ask her why she had been avoiding him, why she didn't want him to touch her.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It took the Doctor a while to fully locate the source of the problem and fix it, but he'd gotten it done. Now came the problem of talking to Clara. He was rubbish at this sort of thing. Still, he'd have to try. This was important. With that thought in mind, he headed to the corridor where the doors to his, Clara's, and John's rooms were located. He first checked on John, who was sleeping comfortably in the ideal temperature. He then headed to Clara's door. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He knocked a few times, but there was no response. Once again, the Doctor frowned. If Clara was getting ready for a shower, maybe he should do the same. So, he headed into his room. He walked over to where his bathroom was, opened the door, and turned the light on. His ears were greeted with a shriek of alarm. She stood there, wet and naked, without a stitch of clothing on her. The Doctor could see every detail of her body, every stretch mark, her cesarian scar, her bullet scar and all of her knife scars. Clara rushed over to where the towels were kept, grabbed one, and tried to cover as much of her body as she could. "Turn the lights back off!" Clara panicked. "Don't look at me!"

"Clara, the floor is wet." the Doctor scolded. "If it's dark, you'll slip and fall."

"I'll be careful!" Clara said, her tone turning pleading, "Just please, please, Doctor! Stop looking at me!"

The Doctor scowled deeply and said, "You don't want me to see you naked."

"Yes! I mean, no, I don't want you to see me naked!" Clara stammered, clutching the towel tightly to herself.

"Why?" the Doctor asked.

"It's disgusting!" Clara hissed, clenching her eyes tightly shut.

The Doctor felt his stomach drop. A mixture of pain, sorrow, and anger suffused his being. He turned away and growled, "I understand, Clara. You needn't hide it anymore, that you're revolted by an old man looking at your body."

"What?" Clara gasped, clearly confused.

"You won't let me touch you. You can barely stand to be in the same room as me." the Doctor snapped. "You said it yourself, you don't want me to see you naked because it's 'disgusting'."

Clara let out a frustrated groan and said, "Not you, Doctor!"

"What?" the Doctor questioned.

"You," Clara paused before quietly continuing, "You're not the disgusting one, Doctor. I am."

This time, it was the Doctor's turn to be utterly confused. He turned to look at his companion before saying, "You really think that you're disgusting?"

"Don't you?" Clara asked, tears falling. "Every time I look at one of these scars, they're a reminder how of how I almost lost my son because I was careless enough to let Alex get into my flat. Each one of them is proof why I'll never be good enough for John because I failed him before he even took his first breath. Nothing I ever do will be good enough to make up for that!"

"Well, then, Clara Oswald," the Doctor said stiffly, "you are woefully ignorant of the opinions of the people you claim to care about."

The Time Lord looked directly at the human female and continued, "My view, for example, is that you are, and always will be, Clara Oswald, the woman that I love and the mother of my child. A few scars aren't going to change that."

The Doctor gazed out of his bathroom in, in the direction of the corridor and, beyond that, the doorway to John's room. Clara followed his gaze until their eyes met again. The Doctor approached Clara and looked directly at her. His gaze seemed to soften a bit. "As for John," the Time Lord said, "When you're holding him, he doesn't worry about falling because he knows that you won't drop him. To him, the safest place he can ever be is in his mother's arms."

"Doctor..." Clara murmured.

"Sleep wherever you want." the Doctor said. "Just don't assume things. You humans have a saying about what happens when you assume."

"What's the saying?" Clara asked.

"How the hell should I know?" the Doctor shot back. "You're the human, not me."

The Doctor felt a sense of relief when Clara rolled her eyes. Crisis averted. Clara smiled awkwardly and said, "Well, I suppose I should get dressed. Knowing John, he's likely to wake up hungry any minute now. That baby waits for no one."

The Doctor nodded and stepped aside to allow the towel-wrapped Clara to leave and head to her old room to change. It was rather fascinating to watch Clara breastfeed John, but the Doctor wasn't sure of she was up for having an audience. He knew that he would probably still have to give Clara some space. Whether she slept in her room, his room, or John's room, the Doctor would try to have faith that his words had made her see the truth of his feelings for her. He loved her and she would always look the same to him. She had heard him say it. The rest was up to her.

oooooooooooooooooooo

It had been three days since the Doctor had spoken to Clara in the bathroom and he hadn't slept in quite some time. He was growing rather weary. It was time that he tried to get some sleep, whether Clara was in his bed or not. So, he laid down in bed, intent on going to sleep. Around midnight, relative to the human time cycle that Clara went by, the Doctor was awoken by the sound of John crying. He was about to get up when he heard the sound of Clara's slightly off-tune singing. Slowly, the crying decreased in volume before stopping entirely. It was rather soothing to think about, the woman he loved caring for the child that they had created together. Slowly, he began to drift off. He was nearly asleep when he felt a weight sink into his bed. A smile appearing on his face as the Doctor reached out and drew Clara closer to him before wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him. Clara let out a sigh of contentment before nuzzling into his chest. With the woman he loved in his arms, the Doctor drifted off into the most restful sleep that he'd had in weeks.

Well, until the sound of a crying infant woke them up again. Clara and the Doctor both sat up with twin sighs. "It sounds like he needs changed." the Doctor said, translating the infant's desires to Clara.

"I'll take care of it." Clara said with a sigh as she got out of bed.

The Doctor nodded and laid back down on his side. He looked at Clara, silently asking a question. "I'll change John's nappy." Clara elaborated. "Then I'll come back to bed."

"Your bed?" the Doctor questioned.

"Our bed." Clara responded.

The Doctor smiled and waited in silence until, finally, Clara crawled back into bed with him. The Time Lord held her, embraced her, as she relaxed in his arms. Sleepily, Clara murmured, "Doctor?"

"Yes, Clara?" the Doctor replied.

"I love you." Clara whispered into his chest.

The Doctor tilted his head towards Clara's and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Now they were there, in what was no longer his bed or her bed, but their bed. It felt right, as if she belonged there, in his arms. In deep content, each fell asleep to the sound of the other's breathing. He loved her and she loved him and it was there, lying in their shared bed, that they belonged. They would always belong there, together in an intimate embrace.

oooooooooooooooo

Title: Indecent Proposal

Rating: K

Summary: With a few short weeks away from motherhood, Clara decides to go on one last girls' night out with Amelia and Pavarti. The Doctor, wanting to keep an eye on Clara, goes with them. In the meantime, Amelia has a surprise planned for Pavarti.

Takes Place in Week 33 of Unplanned

Ah yes, motherhood. It would include such things as joy, pride, and surrendering all of one's time to a tiny, squealing creature. Clara Oswald was heading straight for it. It would be only a month or so until she reached that state. She rather looked forward to having her baby, though the whole surrendering all of one's time thing wouldn't leave much time for other things. The petite brunette let out a sigh and rubbed her tummy fondly. Deep down, she knew that the hardship would be worth it. Suddenly, the sound of her phone ringing pierced the air. Immediately, Clara answered it. "Hello."

A familiar Hispanic American accent came from the phone. "Hola, Chickie!"

"Hello, Amelia!" Clara said with a smile. "How are things going?"

"Great." Amelia Hernandez replied. "I have an idea for tonight. It involves you, me, and Pavarti."

Clara paused, unsure of what kind of plan the American might have come up with. Clara shook her head and said, "What's the plan?"

"We go on one last girls' night out." Amelia replied. "You know, before you are shackled by the chains of motherhood. I know this great place that has karaoke. It'll be a blast!"

Clara paused once again to think it over before smiling and saying, "Karaoke?"

"Karaoke." Amelia confirmed.

"I don't suppose you have an ulterior motive, do you?" Clara inquired with a smirk.

"Maybe." Amelia said cryptically. "So, how about it?"

"A girls' night out does sound fun." Clara admitted. "Count me in."

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded behind her. The Doctor, sounding suspicious, asked, "Where are you going for this 'girls' night out'?"

"Amelia is going to take me there." Clara responded with a smile.

The Doctor frowned and said, "I don't trust that woman."

"You just don't like her because she knocked you out with a cricket bat." Clara said cheekily.

"She could cause trouble." the Doctor said, his frown deepening.

"No more trouble than you cause on a regular basis." Clara replied. "This is an ordinary girls' night out."

The Doctor folded his arms over his chest and said, "I still don't trust that woman."

"What are you going to do, come with me?" Clara snarked, hands on her hips.

The Doctor paused, a contemplative expression on his face. Clara's expression fell. "No." the petite brunette said. "You are not coming with me!"

The Doctor frowned again and said, "Apparently, you are under the impression that I'm giving you a choice."

Clara groaned and slumped. This was going to be the worst girls' night out ever.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

For the girls' night out, Clara had dressed in a little black maternity dress with a pair of black flat shoes. When Amelia came to pick her up, Clara could see that the American was wearing her best jeans and a white button-down blouse. Pavarti, who was sitting in the other front seat, was wearing a cream peasant blouse and a pastel green T-length skirt with daisies printed on it. The Doctor, compared to the three women, was underdressed. He was wearing his hoodie, T-shirt, and plaid trousers. Amelia glared at the Doctor before looking at Clara and asking, "Why did you have to bring him?"

"He wanted to come along." Clara replied with a shrug. "I couldn't really say no."

"Well, he'd better behave." Amelia said with a frown.

"Sweetheart, I'm sure that it will be fine." Pavarti said with a smile.

"All right." Amelia said with a sigh. "Get in the car."

The Doctor and Clara both climbed into the car, Clara having a bit of difficulty due to the size of her belly. Still, she managed. Amelia then drove them to the place where they would be going for what had originally been planned to be a girls' night out. It was a small place that wasn't particularly flashy. A sign on the door read, 'Karaoke Night'. The group then headed into the building. It exuded a strange, welcoming warmth inside. It was as if everyone who walked into the place was welcome. Immediately, Clara ordered a caffeine-free carbonated beverage. Pavarti, because she had work the next day, also ordered a non-alcoholic drink. Amelia arranged for them to sing on stage and then bought a beer. The Doctor, non-surprisingly, bought a stiffer drink. The four of them listened to the people singing, some of whom were good and some of whom were completely horrendous. When the horrible singers were on stage, the Doctor would grimace and complain to the three woman accompanying him until, finally, Amelia smacked him across the back of his head and growled at him to shut up.

Before long, it was Clara's turn. The very pregnant woman waddled onto the stage took the microphone and faced the karaoke machine at the front of the stage. In a slightly off-key voice, Clara began to sing Bon Jovi's Living On A Prayer. It wasn't horrible to listen to, but it could have been better. When Clara had finished the song, scattered applause sounded from the crowd. Clara then left the stage and returned to the table before taking a sip of her drink. There were a few more songs before it was finally Amelia's turn. The American grinned at her company before she dashed up to the stage. She turned to face the crowd and grinned. "Good evening, people. This song is a special one for the special woman in my life, Pavarti Patil."

Amelia pointed at the table and a spotlight shone on Pavarti, who immediately blushed. Amelia continued, "We've been together for three and a half years, three of those years spent on opposite sides of the Atlantic. Still, we've stayed together. This song is the only song I could have chosen. This one's for you, Pavarti."

The music began to play and Amelia smiled at Pavarti before brursting into Jason Derulo's Marry Me. Pavarti's jaw dropped and her eyes widened dramatically. Clara grinned and elbowed the Doctor. "I don't suppose you saw this coming." the Time Lord whispered.

"Actually, I did." Clara replied. "Now be quiet and let her sing."

When the song was finished, Amelia grinned broadly and asked, "How about it, Pavarti? Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Smiling just as broadly as Amelia, Pavarti burst out, "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!"

The crowd exploded into cheers and applause. Amelia left the stage and walked over to Pavarti. The two women embraced and kissed as the crowd applauded for them. The two fiances then sat back down at the table. They had never seemed happier. Pavarti beamed at Clara and the Doctor before asking, "How about you two? When are you two going to get married?"

The Doctor and Clara both blushed vividly. The Time Lord sputtered, unable to find words. Her tone clearly conveying awkwardness, Clara said, "We're not together. Not like that."

Pavarti knowingly nodded at Amelia. The American looked at her neurologist fiance with a frown before slowly breaking into a grin. The Doctor and Clara claimed that they were not in a romantic relationship, but Pavarti knew that it was only a matter of time before they were.

When karaoke night was over, the group left. Amelia had her arm over Pavarti's shoulder and both were bearing broad grins. The Doctor glanced over at the distracted Clara. He loved her so much. Unfortunately, there was the problem of her not loving him. He thought about the evening's events and thought about how, even if Clara did love him, marriage was unlikely to happen in the future. Clara probably was not the marrying kind. Still, whether marriage was eventually possible or not, he could still dream, couldn't he?