Chapter One

A lot can happen in a week. The Doctor never seemed too concerned about the time after he left Clara at her home. Actually Clara would not have been surprised if his previous self had just skipped from Wednesday to Wednesday without waiting for her just so it would seem like she was travelling with him every day. This new self… well she wasn't entirely sure if he even liked her company half the time.

Either way when the Doctor's TARDIS materialised in her sitting room right in front of her she did not budge. She had been sitting in the same state of impassive glaring which did not change when the Doctor finally appeared in the TARDIS doors to come see what was taking her so long.

"Clara will you hur-" he stopped talking, frown increasing as he looked at her on the couch. "What's wrong with your eyes they're all funny and red?"

Clara moved her head just enough to look up at him, still impassive. The Doctor took in her appearance. She was as neat and tidy as usual, big brown eyes framed by dark makeup though she still looked paler than usual. Oddly she had no colour in her outfit like she usually did, instead everything she wore from stockings to shirt was solid black.

"Where's your spark?" his frown practically took over his face, then suddenly vanished in an expression of realisation. "Oh Clara, your eyes aren't funny. You've been crying? Why are you crying?"

Clara looked away as she felt another tear escape her eyes. Funny, she'd thought herself cried out. The Doctor, surprisingly, knelt in front of her – but didn't touch. She wished he'd touch her. She wished that just for a moment he would be as comforting as his old self. "I had to go to a funeral." Clara finally found her voice to reply, but even that had no spark, it was just a ghost of its usual self.

The Doctors face seemed to be confused as to what emotion to give. Sympathy was one, worry another, but sadness was always on his face if you knew him well enough – and a thousand lifetimes of memories really made Clara notice. She was a little surprised when he covered her little hand with his own larger rough one, knowing that this Doctor did not like to be touched.

They sat like that for a little while, Clara grateful for whatever comfort the Doctor could offer her, but was startled when he suddenly jumped up and practically shouted "Tea! When someone is upset you should offer them a hot beverage. Would you like tea?"

Clara cracked a smile for the first time that day. "Tea would be nice."

When the Doctor came back having busied himself in the kitchen for a while – Clara sincerely hoped he had not made too much of a mess – he came back and handed her a cup of tea, and one for himself, he sat beside her as she took a sip. It was surprisingly nice. He must have paid a lot more attention than she thought when she made them both tea on the TARDIS.

They were in a companionable silence until something dark jumped onto the Doctors lap – he gave a yelp of surprise and jumped up throwing tea everywhere. Clara jumped up too – mostly from shock, though she did a much better job of not spilling her tea over herself like the Doctor had.

The culprit sat on the couch looking thoroughly confused at their reaction's.

"What the hell is that mini-beast?" the Doctor cried with irritation pulling at his soaked white shirt that was no doubt burning his skin just a little since he was pulling it away from his skin.

"It's a cat Doctor." Clara frowned. "Take off your shirt, you've nearly scolded yourself."

The Doctor threw an irritated look at her and at the cat but he obliged by removing his coat – which had miraculously avoided the tea soaking- Clara fetched him a clean shirt from her room while he removed the white one. She came back with an old shirt of her dads and handed it to him, taking the dirty one and throwing it in her washing machine for a quick wash.

"I hope this isn't a shirt of P.E." the Doctor grumbled. "I doubt he'd like me wearing his clothes any more than you dressing me up as him."

Clara hesitated in the kitchen for just a minute before she replied "Danny and I broke up a while ago. That's just an old shirt my dad left."

The Doctor was looking at her again now. "Clara, why didn't you tell me?"

She frowned. "I didn't think you'd care."

He was frowning again now. "Of course I would care, you're my Impossible Girl."

Clara smiled a little at that.

"This means I didn't get to comfort you and eat ice cream like you pudding brains do when you lose a mate. However that doesn't mean I get to miss the opportunity to hurt him if he hurt you. Did he?"

Clara glanced at the Doctors face then, trying to identify if he was kidding or not. There was of course a teasing glint in his eye – though it was accompanied by a serious glean in his blue eyes that told her the threat in his voice had not been imagined.

"He didn't hurt me no, but if you want ice cream I think I have some in the freezer."

The Doctor gave just a small smile "That's okay, bit nippy for ice cream. Since when did you have a cat?"

"He was my grandmothers…"

Dawning drew on the Doctors face when he realised why she had the cat. "Oh. So… I imagine you are not up to an adventure today?"

Clara looked away from him for just a moment. She didn't want to go run for her life on some distant planet today, but she didn't want the Doctor to leave either. Yet, he wasn't prone to staying in one place nor was he the comforting kind.

"Sorry Doctor, not today. Your shirt shouldn't take long to wash… you don't have to stay, you can go. I can get your shirt to you another time."

Neither said anything for a little while.

"So… what do you humans do to feel better when grieving?" the Doctor asked awkwardly rubbing the back of his head to break the silence.

Clara didn't give him a warning, she hugged the Doctor that did not like hugs and felt more than amused when he froze again. "Clara… still not really a hugging person…" he said.

"Well this is what humans do to feel better so hush for a moment." Was her reply, though she loosened her grip on him slightly letting him pull away if he wanted. He didn't seem to however, he closed his arms around her rather gingerly instead.

"Feel a bit better?" he asked when she finally let him go.

"A bit. Yes." She smiled a little "Does this mean you're not going to take your snog box on an adventure without me?"

"She is not a snog box." The Doctor grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and not looking at her. "But I think I'd like to stay. Can't really have a Clara with no spark – have to make sure you get your fire back. You're very dull otherwise, and finding a new companion takes ages!"

Clara was pretty sure he was kidding her again, the glint back in his eyes. "Well, I'm going to get changed into something more comfortable. We could watch a film after that? Nothing historical or scientific or you'll never stop talking." Clara teased him back, distinctly remember the time she had been sick and he'd visited to pick her up while she was watching the Titanic and he had been insufferable about it's inaccuracy.

"I don't see why they make these films if they aren't going to be accurate." He grumbled back at her while she went to her room.

~ O ~

The Doctor had been feeling rather out of his element since he exited the TARDIS into Clara's flat and found her in such a passive state after their grandmother's funeral. He hadn't know the lady had passed – she'd seemed quite nice when he met her at Christmas, though that might have been because he was young and naked at the time.

Then there was the cat.

It was blue grey in colour and had blue eyes too. Normally he would not have cared much at all only the cat had insisted on sitting on his lap, curling under his hand and face insisting on being cuddled. No matter how many times he told it he did not cuddle. Clara of course found this all rather amusing – she did not believe him when he said he could speak cat either. No one ever did. However despite the cat's persistence he admitted it was nice for once to find an animal that quite liked its name and did not want him to tell the owner they'd changed it. Medea was quite a suitable name for a cat.

The news about her break up with Danny Pink had been surprising too. Some little part of him was more than pleased about it – enough that he no longer found himself calling him 'P.E' even though he was a maths teacher. He had not likes the way Danny seemed to criticised Clara's ability to follow his orders when they were trying to save the school from the Skovox Blitzer, he finally found a companion that listened (well, most of the time) who began to think that was wrong when Danny said so… his fist tightened in irritation at the memory, though he could understand Clara's want for a normal boyfriend.

Sometimes he had to force himself to remember it was him who said he wasn't her boyfriend.

Because he wasn't. He had to remind himself of that too. But it didn't mean he didn't want her.

He glanced down at her now as they sat in her apartment – outside the wind howled and covered London in thick white snow, but they were snug and warm inside. She was asleep under a deep blue blanket, TARDIS blue he noticed with a slight smirk when he'd seen it, her head had fallen into his lap at some point and he wasn't going to move it, because while he was asleep he could feel free to allow her touch and tenderness without fear of judgment.

He admitted it was unusual to see her asleep. Of course he'd seen her sleep before, you didn't travel with someone for nearly two years and not see them sleep at some point, but it never failed to strike him how peaceful she looked compared to the wild flurry of emotions that passed her face with every waking second. It genuinely confused him that her face could pull off two contrasting expressions at the same moment.

He should leave. Before she wakes up.

But he didn't want too. The Doctor had found himself quite comfortable when she fell asleep half way through some stupid horror flick that she called 'Paranormal Activity'. He called it humans with pudding brains and a bad draft in their house. When her head had finally fallen into his lap the Doctor had to shift a little to accommodate her, his arm ended up over her shoulder tucking her closer to him, his other hand was absent-mindedly twisting her hair.

The cat was watching him. He could swear she was laughing at him.

It wasn't just about his wants though was it? While he didn't make a habit of slipping into a humans mind, let alone a companions, it was harder to keep himself from picking up things accidentally when he was relaxed and had skin contact with them, as well as a deep hidden curiosity. Just before she was truly asleep the Doctor had felt Clara's fear that when she woke in the morning he'd have vanished. He knew she didn't want him to leave – but he was surprised that she had a deep feeling of loneliness. Then again, she'd always said she was somewhat estranged from her father and her step mother and her grandmother was the only one she was really close with… and she'd just lost her.

If he stayed until she woke up maybe it would help her feel better? Less lonely?

The Doctor sighed letting his hand run through her chocolate brown hair one more time before his head fell back against the couch cushions. Just one night with neither of them being lonely wouldn't be so bad.