I had already started writting this, but I am going to change it to third-person, so sorry to anyone who has already read it, though I have added to it.

I don't usually write 2 stories at a time, but the other one I write is just a collection of one-shots, and I really want to write a AU Whouffle story, so here it is!

Please let me know what you think, and if I should continue to write this fic!

Description:

Clara and John were childhood friends, but when Clara's parents moved to Blackpool, they were seperated. But as if by chance, they are reunited when Clara moves to London, and ends up moving next door to him. As they begin to rekindle their friendship, they must both come to terms with the fact that things aren't the same as they were 10 years ago.

Other relationships include Amy + Rory, and possibly mentions of Ten + Rose.

Why did I bother moving house? It's too much trouble!

Though technically i'm only moving apartments.

But still, is it always this hard?

Clara Oswald was beyond annoyed at this point.

Getting the sofa and chairs in proved to be an absolute nightmare, then it turned out she lost some of the screws for the desk, so only the bed had come in one shape and didn't prove to be too difficult.

As soon as the two chairs, sofa and desk, along with the fridge and most of the cutlery, plates and pans were un-packed, her stomach starts to growl.

It then occures to her that she hasn't had any breakfast, and there is no food in the fridge.

After five minutes of rumaging through boxes, she eventualy finds her coat and bag and walks out the door.

Crash. Bang. Wollup.

The noise coming from next door is never-ending!

Five hours solid, and it still hasn't stopped.

THUD

"Right, that is it!" John Smith yells, not bothered if the person next door can hear him.

Grabbing the keys, he runs to the door, slamming it shut behind him and running down the stairs towards the main reception.

"Excuse me, I'd like to complain about a noisy neighbour." he adresses the women behind the desk.

"Mr Smith, as i'm sure you are aware, someone is currently moving in next door to you, I do apoligize for the disturbance, but they cannot help it." The woman formally replies.

"Am I allowed to know the name of my new neighbour?" he asks through gritted teeth, as i'm sure we'll be having arguments later...

"Very well, but don't think I can do this all the time..." she taps away at her computer. "...Clara Oswald."

John feels his heart skip a beat, and for a moment he is sure he's misheard her.

Did she just say...

"Clara Oswald? Did you just say Clara Oswald?" he manages to speak past the lump in his throat.

"Yes. Do you know her?"

You bet I know her.

She was the closest person to me in my childhood, she was the one who dragged me out of my lonely hole.

The Impossible Girl, she's back.

Instead of answering her question, he just runs back toward the stairwell, up the four flights of stairs, and bangs on the door next to his.

After several seconds, there's no answer.

"Oh no come on, as soon as I know it's you you leave the apartment, typical." he mutters to himself.

With a huff, he slumps back to his own apartment.

Clara's arms are literally about to drop off as she lugs all the plastic bags into the new apartment.

As soon as she puts them down, the doorbell rings.

Strange, no one knows I live here do they?

The ringing continues, so she steps over the bags towards the door.

The person has now taken to a repeated knocking.

"Hello, yes. I hear you. Yep. Uh huh!" she shouts towards the door.

"Hello." Clara pulls the door open.

A tall, slender man, with floppy brown hair covering his green, somehow familiar eyes, is on the other side. He's dressed in a long purple tweed jacket, a grey waistcoat over his white shirt, complete with a purple bowtie.

"Clara. Clara Oswald?" He pants, hands still in the air.

"Hello."

"Clara Oswin Oswald!" He flaps his hands around excitedly.

"Just Clara Oswald, what was that middle one?" she asks.

"Do you remember me?" He bursts.

She shuffles slightly on the spot, eyeing him up and down.

"No. Should I, who are you?" Clara asks, though there is definetely something familiar about him.

"John. John Smith, The Doctor?" he replies, almost frantic, his faint eyebrows creased in worry and slight hurt.

"John? John!" Clara bursts, equally as excited as him, as an image finaly crosses her mind.

John Smith, my childhood friend.

The one I played imaginery games with throughout my time in primary school.

He laughs, stepping through the door and pulling her ino a tight hug, Clara wraps her arms around his neck, squeezing so tight she thinks she might choke him.

"How long has it been?" Clara asks once they pull apart.

"Looking at you, not very long." his eyes widen when he realizes how bad that sounded, Clara just laughs, he hasn't changed, he's still the child he was ten years ago.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, of course you've changed, you're older, no not like that-"

"Calm down, it's been, what? Ten years?"

"Yeah."

There's an awkward silence for a moment, which Clara tries to break.

"How have you been?" Clara asks.

"Bit lonely after you first left, but now i'm a photographer, and I eventualy made friends after you left."

A stab of guilt surges through her by the way he says eventualy, which she tries to cover up.

"How 'bout you?" He asks.

Clara stumbles over her words for a moment unsure of whether to mention about when she first left.

"Start looking for a job soon I hope, took forever to save up enough to get by for the first few months. I was a babysitter for a family friend till I decided to move." Clara replies.

"Good, good." He nods.

"So do you wanna go for a walk or something, have a catch up?" He asks, eyes full of hope.

"I can't. I just got a load of shopping and I need to put it away, it's covering the entire floor." Clara replies sheepishly.

"I can help with that!" And before she can reply, he steps past her and heads towards the kitchen, yep, same old John.

"What was with all the banging this morning?" He asks, picking up a bag and placing it on the counter.

"You heard that huh?" she gives an apoligetic grimace, copying his action with the bag.

"I think they heard it in Australia." He jokes, and she throws a bag of lettuce leaves at him.

"Oi!" He throws it back, but she quickly catches it, laughing.

"How did you know it was me living here?" Clara asks, suddenly realizing he came knowing it was her living here.

He seems to hesitate for a moment.

"I was going to complain about you being a noisy neighbour, but when the woman at the desk told me who you were, I changed my mind."

"Oh." Is all she can say.

"Anyway, enough of that, lets have a real catch up!" John perks.

"What do you mean 'a real catch up'?" Clara asks, genuinely confused.

"I'm sure there's more to ten years then loud noises and what jobs we have."

"Getting jobs and moving on pretty much sums up the last ten years for me." Clara nods all through the sentence.

"Moving on from what?" He asks.

"Nothing." she gives him a dismissive nod.

He scoops up the milk and custard, walking over to the fridge and opening it.

"How's your mum?" He asks, his face practicaly in the fridge.

Clara feels her stomach twist slightly, it's been years, and she's done what everyone else does when they loose someone, grieve, pulled themself together and moved on.

"She passed away a year after we moved." Clara answers in a low voice, putting tinned food in the cupboards.

"Oh, Clara i'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" He starts.

"It's ok! It's fine." She interupts him.

"How's your dad?" He asks, as if on instinct.

"He's good, met a women at work called Linda who is now his girlfriend so he's ok."

"And I take it you don't really get along with her, judging by your lack of enthusiasm." John giggles to himself.

"Atleast someone has picked up on that."

"Yeah well it looks like I can still read you like a book." He grins to himself, picking up the chips and fish fingers and placing them in the freezer part of the fridge.

"So how are your parents?" she asks.

"They're good, my mum's still on a mission to find me a wife." Johns enthusiasm quickly disappears.

"What, you're still single?" Clara asks, then immediatly regrets it when she realizes how bad it sounds.

"Don't sound so surprised, how 'bout you? Is there a Mr Oswald?" he doesn't seem too offended by the comment.

"No, still single."

"Oh, good." his eye grow wide in alarm as soon as he finishes his sentence.

"Good?" she pretends to be offended.

"No, not good, definately not good at all. I just-"

"Relax!" she interupts him yet again.

"What are you doing still single? Shouldn't you be out doing young things, w-w-with young people?" He continues, doing a weird dance of pointing up in one direction, then down in the opposite direction, before doing a very intimate looking dance move.

"What, you mean like you for instance, down boy." she gives him a flirtatious nod.

"No I just meant, wha'! Shut up!" He blushes slightly at her flirting, then gasps dramaticaly, as if he has finaly caught on, "Shh-".

Clara struggles to contain a laugh at his niaveness, but soon he's joining in as well.

"Same old John then? Blushes at the slightest bit of flirting, and has no trouble letting himself in to other peoples houses?"

"You were the one who needed help! So I guess you're still the same old Clara then, short and bossy with a funny nose?" He laughs to himself.

"Oi!" Clara complains, throwing the first thing she can grab at him, which happens to be a pineapple.

He manages to catch it, but immediately lets go of it as it digs into his skin.

"Ow!" he moans, running his fingers over his injured hand.

"That didn't hurt!"

"Yes it did!" He moans.

"Do you want me to bandage it up and kiss it better for you?" Clara teases.

"That's not such a bad idea, JOKE!" He quickly blurts.

"Well, looks like that's it!" I change the subject now all the food is unpacked.

"Where do you wanna go now?" John leans over the counter, arms folded.

"What do you mean?" she raises an eyebrow at him.

"Well a five minute unpacking session is hardly gonna cover ten years of not seeing eachother.

"How about hot chocolate and jammie dodgers, just like old times?" Clara suggests, the corner of her mouth tugging into a smile.

"You still remember that?" John seems genuinely surprised.

"Course I do!"

"Ok then, there's a cafe just down the road if you wanna go there?"
"Sure."

With that, Clara grabs her coat and walks out the door.

After a ten minute walk, John and Clara eventualy found the cafe John mentioned.

"After you..." John holds the door open.

"Thanks."

"Table for two is it?" A small waitress aproaches them, a white apron tied around her waist.

"Yep." John and Clara reply in sync, turning to smile at eachother.

The waitress joins in with the beaming, before walking them to a table next to the window, with two chairs on either side.

"Do you know what you would like to order?" The waitress asks, pen poised over her pad.

"Two hot chocolates and some Jammie Dodgers please." John beams.

After writting the order down, the waitress turns on her heel and walks away.

"So do you know anyone else 'round here?" Clara asks, desperate to get a conversation going.

"Yeah. Do you remember two people called Amy Pond and Rory Williams?" John asks.

"Is Amy that girl who was always getting in trouble with another girl called Mels?" Clara tries to confirm the slight memory in her head.

"The very same. And Rory?"

"He was the one who was always hanging around with the girls, wasn't he?"

John chuckles, "Yeah, even though he'll never admit it."

"You still know them?"

"Yeah, they live in the other block of apartments, together."

"Are they married?" Clara asks, trying to mask the shock from her voice, she had never really been one for primary/ secondary school relationships.

"Mhmm."

"Wow." Is all Clara can think to say.

"You should meet them, they haven't half changed!" John beams.

"Sure thing Doctor." Clara replies with a smirk.

"Oh god, I remember that game! Half of our year thought we were mental!" John turns embaressed at the memory.

"We were." Clara deadpans, causing John to sneer sarcasticaly.

Just then the waitress arrives with their drinks and biscuits, awkwardly eyeing Johns sneering face. John quickly turns his expression back to normal, blushing slightly, much to Clara's amusement.

After thirty minutes of catching up and drinking hot chocolate, John pipes up the idea of reuniting with the 'Ponds' as he refers to them, much to Clara's relief, a small part of her not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

"Come on then." John beams, standing up and taking Claras hand, walks out the door.