Her heart was racing.

Clara spun around, the crowds of people making her dizzy as her eyes flicked from face to face. She had to find him. Where was he? What was going on?

She pushed through the people, muttering quick apologies as strangers shouted after her. She didn't care. Something was wrong, she could feel it, she could sense it.

He would never ever leave her. Not intentionally.

It was when she skidded around the corner she realised what had happened.

There he was, being led away by two policemen, his wrists captured in silver handcuffs. His eyes caught sight of her just as one of the policemen forced him head first into the back of the police car. He shook his head: a short abrupt signal. Don't follow me. Don't interfere.

But Clara couldn't let them take him.

Chapter One: In the Beginning

The air was bitey.

Clara pulled the coat further across her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist so that every inch of her skin was covered with at least one layer. She breathed in and out, in and out, rhythmically, in exaggerated movements. That was a trick Dodger taught her a few weeks ago: big breaths, he told her, deep breaths. Pumping blood meant free heat, and in their situation, anything which was free was priceless.

She was alone tonight. The November breeze was always colder on your own. Clara straightened her back against the concrete wall and looked out towards to the city. This was her favourite spot, right here. She didn't like sitting on the main streets – she didn't like the attention. Every time someone passed her without the smallest glance she was reminded of the callousness of the city, the emotional detachment. Then again, she supposed anything was better than meeting the stray glance of a pedestrian and seeing the pity reflected in their eyes before they avoid your gaze altogether, embarrassed to have been caught.

Clara preferred it here, under the bridge. Away from the hustle and bustle of inner city life, but still close enough to hear it. To be able to close your eyes and imagine you were a part of it, and not removed, sitting beside a muddy puddle with nothing but a small suitcase and a red coat to call your own. No pitying stares or heartless ignorance to keep you awake at night. There was less hope someone would come to your rescue, but if Clara was being honest with herself, she lost that hope months ago.

She passed the time by staring at the sky. Sleep didn't come naturally, it usually pounced on her due to exhaustion. Since it was inner city London, the sky was starless but no less interesting. Clara hadn't appreciated the movements and patterns of the smoggy night sky before she found herself on the streets. If the past few months had taught her anything, it was that beauty can be found in the darkest of places if you opened your mind long enough to let it in.

It was when she was staring at the sky, a soft padding sounded from her immediate right. She flicked her eyes to follow the sound, her muscles stiffening in case she needed to move. Something scurried between the shadows underneath the dark bridge, darting left then right in irregular movements. As Clara squinted she caught a flash of white and black fur. She held out her hand, hoping it would encourage the small creature to approach, even though she had no food to offer.

A scruffy collie dog ducked out of the shadows and into the orange glow of the streetlamp light. He sniffed Clara's hand, almost cautiously, before padding closer and resting his head on her knees. Laughing, Clara scratched his floppy ears, running her hands through the warm fur. Despite being scruffy, the dog definitely appeared to be well cared for. He didn't even have a collar. His sad brown eyes stared into her face as if he was reading her. For the first time in a few days, Clara found herself genuinely smiling.

"Where did you come from, eh?" She stroked the place his collar should have been. "Are you lost like the rest of us?"

Accompanied by the steady breathing of her new found friend, Clara heard footsteps coming in her direction. Loud, running, urgent steps. The dog sensed them too; his head turned in the direction of the bridge like he knew what was expected.

"Buddy!" a voice yelled. "Buddy!"

Clara jumped to her feet. That was a man's voice – a man she didn't recognise. She threw her side bag over her shoulder and began to back away, quickly thinking of where to go next. She didn't want to take any risks to see if the person who owned the voice was friendly or not; one wrong decision could cost her dearly.

But she couldn't leave the dog. And the dog wouldn't budge.

"Come on, boy. I have to go!"

Instead of acknowledging her pleading, he stubbornly stood his ground, refusing to follow.

"Buddy?" the man called. Clara could see his outline now, he was only a few metres away from her. She would've ran if it wasn't for the dog suddenly bolting in his direction, barking out a gruff greeting. He bent down to kiss the dog's head, and when the orange light of the streetlamp fell onto his features, that was when Clara saw his face for the first time.

His face was long and angular, his strong jaw mostly covered with a stubbly beard. His hair was rich brown, flicked over into a messy quiff, and as he glanced up at Clara – who was half turned away from him, ready to leave – his hazel green eyes were sparkling and wide. Kind eyes, she decided. This man had kind eyes.

Kind eyes meant nothing to her anymore. She glanced from the dog to the man then spun around, walking briskly off in the opposite direction.

She had only walked a few steps when she heard shouting.

"Oi! Where you going?"

She continued in the opposite direction.

"Did my dog bother you?" he called. Was he following her now?

No response.

"I'm sorry if he did. He's not usually this – oi, Buddy!"

The scruffy dog ran in front of Clara, almost making her trip while making her hasty exit. She sighed and glared at the creature, frustrated that the animal was getting in her way. Just as she was about to shoo him, he raised his paw and padded Clara's knee. Shaking her head, she knelt down and stroked his ears again, unable to look away from the dark brown dog eyes staring up at her.

"He seems to like you," the man observed.

Clara struggled with herself for a few moments. If this man was a threat, surely he would've done something by now? Stolen her bag, knocked her out. She had her back open to him at this moment.

"Is his name Buddy?" she asked after a long silence.

"Yeah," answered the man. He was taking slow steps towards her, like approaching a wounded animal. "Thought Buddy was an appropriate name. When you're as lonely as me, he makes you feel like you have at least one friend."

That was what made Clara turn to face him. He jarred at her sudden eye contact as if he wasn't quite expecting it. She stared at him a long time, taking in every detail of his face. Studying him. He cleared his throat and held out his hand – not straight and rigid like a business man but instead his palm was open like he was making an offering. Clara wordlessly placed her hand on top of his, their skin only slightly brushing together because of the loose contact.

"Doctor John Smith," he introduced with a small bow.

"Doctor?" Clara questioned.

He scoffed. "Yeah, didn't do me much good, did it? What good is a PhD when you're on the streets?"

Before Clara responded, she reminded herself of rule one that Dodger taught her way back when: never ask why. It didn't matter where the fellow homeless came from, it didn't matter what they did to end up there, or remain there. If you're on the streets, you're all the same, and judgement should never be attached to letting someone know such personal information. Someone would tell you how they ended up with nothing if they wanted to – asking guaranteed trouble. And it's rude, Dodger said, just because you don't have a roof over your head, doesn't mean you can forget your manners.

So Clara swallowed such questions which would usually thirst her curiosity.

"Clara Oswald," she announced, nodding her head.

"Clara," he said, tasting the words. "Nice name, you should definitely keep it."

She frowned slightly. "Um, thanks. I think."

"I hope my dog didn't disturb you."

"Oh, no, not at all." She made an effort to smile but it didn't feel right on her face. She watched him as he crouched down to kiss Buddy's head, soothingly stroking the length of his body and muttering words of endearment. Clara could feel a section of her heart melting at the adoration between the dog and owner – peaking as Buddy began to lick the Doctor's face.

Clara took it as her cue to leave. She quietly turned her back on them, walking in the direction of the inner city. There was a newfound heaviness in her chest, and she was sure it had something to do with the mysterious Doctor John Smith. Shivering again, she pulled her coat around her waist and stared up at the sky. Was it the companionship she missed? Having a friend, a responsibility? Someone to rely on you? She couldn't quite pinpoint the exact reason why the air felt colder now.

Then she heard his voice calling her again.

"Hey – do you have somewhere to sleep?"

She paused to glance over her shoulder. "No, funnily enough. Hence the 'home-less' in homelessness."

He laughed at that. "Not quite what I meant. But you weren't going to stay out here all night, were you?"

"Nowhere else to go." She shrugged.

"Well, I don't exactly have a home but I do have shelter. It's better than staying out in the cold. You can join me, if you like."

Clara was tempted to say yes. It seemed like an honest request but she couldn't be too sure.

He picked up on her hesitancy. "No catch," he explained. "You're cold and I'm lonely. I won't even make conversation with you. I'd just like to feel the presence of a human for a change rather than a slobbering fur ball." He patted Buddy's head. "No offence, Bud."

He now opened his arms wide for emphasis, opening his coat to show the empty pockets, twirling around so she could see he wasn't hiding something. "You don't have to trust me. Just follow me, if you want." With one last genuine smile he backed away in the direction of the tunnel, leaving enough space between them so Clara could easily ignore his offer or choose to follow him.

Her heart was begging her to follow – to the promise of shelter and maybe even a small conversation. Little things she had taken for granted all of her life which she valued with her whole being now. But her head, her head was saying no – what if this was an elaborate trick? No one could be so genuinely caring on the streets. It was every man for himself.

When had she gotten so cynical? Deep down Clara knew there was an optimist waiting to break free, but the last few months had taught her nothing but harsh truths about life and the human condition. She longed to turn back the clock to a few years ago, when everything had looked so shiny and new and hopeful. She had her perfect little life planned out in her perfect little way. What she didn't know was that sometimes it only takes one tragic thing to change your entire life and have your personal world come crashing down around you. That's what she was now – spiralling out of control, sinking to the bottom with no one to help her up. As much as she fought it and as much as she tried to take control, she was shoved back down to the ground again.

And maybe, just maybe she was ready to trust in a little piece of humanity again. Maybe she would take the chance and choose to believe Doctor John Smith was sincerely offering her shelter because he was a good man. Nothing more, nothing less.

So it was with a newfound spark of hope that Clara Oswald took a step forward in the direction of the Doctor.

A/N: This is going to be an Eleven/Clara story with a twist halfway through which may lead to Twelve/Clara. Wait and see.

I apologise for the first chapter, because this fic really is going to get much better - I just want to build up slowly. Make it realistic. Currently the rating is T, but I might have to change it for some scarier scenes from a certain point, but I will warn you when that happens. I'm also sorry this isn't a Politics of the Heart sequel - I've had a serious case of writer's block which I'm trying to overcome with this story.

Please review and follow - if I get enough reviews on the first chapter, I'll upload the second quite quickly!