AN:Greetings and salutations! I'm so excited for the return of DW that I just can't get this story out of my head. I'm really loving Clara as the new companion. Right now there's a little light romantic Clara/Doctor thread through the story. I might press it further, I might not, I'm a bit on the fence about that at the moment. Anyway, expect drama, plot twists, a little angst, and some really sweet bonding between the Doctor and his newest companion. (Rating may change to T at some point. Maybe.)

Summary: When the Cybermen take over and begin rewriting human memories, Clara fights to remember the Doctor, who has left her clue to help her along. Can she solve the Doctor's riddles before her memories are erased for good? Will she be able to find him in enough time to help him face down an even greater threat than the Cybermen?

Disclaimer: Don't own, but wouldn't it be nice?

Spoiler Warning: Currently this story contains spoilers for, or at least mild references to, all recent episodes-as well as some additional speculation about upcoming episodes on my part. You have been warned.


...tracking... tracking...the Hacker Girl is located... Do No Harm... alert TriPoint security systems... command; execute...

Scanning the command codes streaming across her tablet screen, Clara's heart fluttered rapidly in her chest as she opened the nearest office door and locked it behind her. They knew she was here and any minute the security guards—or worse, one of the cybermen—would find her. She had to get to the top floor where the main server was kept, but she was trapped now three floors short of her goal. Somewhere up there, she knew, was something alien, even more alien than the cybermen, and it was running the TriPoint Data Network, which in turn was responsible for all the soft-patches and neural upgrades that had enslaved the entire planet almost overnight two months ago.

report... report... security en route... Do No Harm...

Thinking through the options available to her, either back out the way she had come or straight out a window from the 32nd floor, she unlocked the office door and glanced down the hallway. Three cybermen and a human security guard were emerging from the elevators at one end, at the other end there was a door. With all her heart, Clara hoped it led to a stairwell. Running straight ahead, she found herself practically body-slamming into a young man emerging from his office.

"Sorry!" She shouted back as she continued and reached the far door. Throwing her whole weight into it, she pushed forward and it opened. With a sigh of a relief she looked at the long maze of stairs leading downwards, as well as the several flights above. She glanced at her tablet and grew even more alarmed when she saw her username flash across the screen.

... compiling soft-patch Oswin... compiling... Do No Harm... remote upload in progress... 5%... 10%...

This was not good. They were trying to patch her remotely. If they succeeded in uploading the patch before she reached her destination, she would forget everything. They had repressed her memories with patches before; eventually she had broken the patches and remembered, but if they patched her now she wasn't entirely certain that she would be able to break the source code a second time. Besides, the Doctor was here, or would be here soon. She hoped.

To be honest, she didn't really know where he was at the moment. But after she had finally decoded his message this morning and then tracked down the location of TriPoints' main servers, she felt reasonably confident that he was following the same trail of bread crumbs that she was, if not faster. After all, he was a thousand years old, had two hearts, and twenty-seven brains.

... remote upload in progress... 45%...

With a deep breath, Clara began running up the stairs, taking them two, three at a time. She quickly reached the top and tried pulling the door open. The handle was ice cold, so cold it burned her skin when she first touched it. Pulling her scarlet scarf from around her neck, she wrapped her hand with it and pulled on the door again. It was stiff with frost but it finally gave way after several forceful tugs, and she rushed into the bitterly cold room, pausing briefly as she let her eyes adjust to the heavy shadows and blue light of the top floor. Her tablet beeped a warning at her.

... remote upload in progress... 75%...

She was rapidly running out of time, yet she was so close. Suppressing a wave of anxiety that threatened to paralyze her, she rushed forward cautiously, keeping an eye on her surroundings. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the TARDIS along the far wall and she picked up her pace.

"Doctor?" She called out. "Doctor! We have to hurry. They're about to patch me!" She ran forward towards the source of the blue light. It was a large, round partition in the center of the larger room, and the light seemed to be emanating from behind it and spilling out around the side. At the bottom of the partition hundreds of large cables and multicolored wires radiated outwards, running across the room in every direction. Clara was ready to bet her last penny and pound that that was where the main TriPoints server was located. Drawing closer, she felt the room grow colder, if that were even possible.

"You better not be another ice warrior." She muttered to herself as she finally reached edge of the partition.

... remote upload in progress... 80%...

Her tablet screen insisted on reminding her that she was about to be robbed of her memories. Again. Rounding the edge of the partition, Clara squinted against the flood of blue light. Her eyes followed the tangle of cables and wires that were coiled around CPU towers and data cores, towards the central server. Whatever she had been expecting, this was not it.

"Oh no."

... remote upload in progress... 85%... Hello Clara Oswald... remote upload in progress...

Two Months Earlier

The Doctor inspected the infostamp stamp suspiciously and considered the visual data it had projected against the back wall of the pub that he and Clara had retreated to that evening. They had just returned from a rather fraught adventure several leagues under the sea. Of course, when he had promised to take his newest companion "some place exciting," he had not expected to find themselves trapped on a distressed nuclear submarine with an ice warrior intent on terraforming the planet by way of eternal nuclear winter.

He had almost lost Clara, again, too. The thought alone stilled his hearts. Though the ever-present danger for his companions always weighed heavily on him, for him the fear of losing Clara was particularly great, knowing as he did that she had died twice already under his watch, and facing the uncertainty of if he would ever find her again if he did lose this Clara Oswald, his Clara. Not Entertainment Director Oswin Oswald. Not Governess Clara Oswin Oswald. His Clara. The Impossible Girl.

She was a riddle that needed unlocking, but perhaps one that could wait. At the moment, the small metal cylinder he currently held in his hands posed a much more pressing concern.

Though the ice warrior had been more fearsome than he had remembered the ancient Martian race being, it was Clara's discovery of the infostamp, locked away in the submarine captain's gun safe, that had taken the 1,100 year old time lord by surprise. Now that they were safely deposited in the back corner of a proper British pub eating proper fish and chips—Clara's idea, though the choice held a touch of poetic irony that he enjoyed after their close escape from a watery, fishy grave—the Doctor jumped at the opportunity to examine the unexpected find.

"So those robots are called what, exactly?" Clara raised a skeptical eyebrow as she pointed a chip at the infostamp in question and then towards the back wall where the stamp had just projected its data.

"Cybermen." The Doctor responded, setting the stamp down and turning his attention to the petite brunette. "More machine than man, more logic than heart or emotion."

She nodded and pushed her basket of chips towards him; she had left several fish fingers for him. He gave her an amused half-smile which she returned with a teasing quirk of her own lips.

"I'm afraid you won't find much custard to go with them, but they're quite tasty all the same."

"Indeed." He grabbed one of the crispy, battered strips and made a great show of devouring the piece with relish. Inside he was cringing at the reminder of Amy—in truth, he had not had the stomach, quite literally, for fish fingers and custard since he had "lost" the Ponds. Self-recriminations tended to do that to one's appetite. Still, in a moment when he found himself so busy talking circles around his new companion that he had in fact talked himself in circles around his own heart, he had let slip his fondness for the odd food pairing. Clara had no way of knowing the sad associations it now held for him, nor was he about to tell her. The Ponds were then, Clara was now.

"So what were a bunch of home movies of cybermen doing on a nuclear submarine?" Her question pulled his focused back to the present and his current problem. "Are they related to the ice warriors? Are they Martians too?"

"No. I mean, yes, they're alien, but not technically from Mars." He began to eat a second fish finger. "As far as I know, the infostamp has nothing to do with the ice warrior we met today. As to your first question, I would like to know the answer to that myself."

Clara nodded and sighed as she self-consciously played with her mother's ring.

"I guess we can't ask the captain how he got it."

"No, we can't." He watched her, knowing that the captain's death had reminded her of her mother. Reaching across the table, he placed his hand on top of her own to still her fidgeting. That seemed to grab her attention quickly. Her small, slim fingers were warm—astonishingly so considering how she had almost frozen to death only a few hours earlier—and he felt a slight warmth overtaking him as well, as if she were sharing her own heat and vitality with him in a single touch. Clara Oswald was alive—very, very alive. "I think we've had enough adventuring for one day, wouldn't you say?"

Smiling, she clasped his hand back, and he noted how brightly and earnestly her excitement could light up her face.

"Same time, same place tomorrow?"

"Of course." He nodded. "It's a date." She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. He shifted uncomfortably and drew back his hand, realizing his mistake too late.

"A date." She echoed back to him, her voice lilting as she teased him. "I don't know what kind of ideas-"

"No. No idea. There are no ideas. I didn't mean-" He scrambled for words. Curse her and her ability to willfully misunderstand him. She was impossible, a riddle, and a minx!

"Just because I go adventuring with you in your blue snog box doesn't mean that you can-."

"It is not a snog box!" He huffed at her loudly. She grinned, it was a victorious cheshire smile that infuriated him yet also sent his hearts beating in double time. Finally standing up, she leaned over his shoulder and placed an innocent kiss on his cheek.

"I know." She said quietly in his ear. Without another word, Clara made a B-line for the door before the Doctor could arrange enough words to give her the intelligent and well-reasoned scolding that that little exchange had earned her.

"Good night, Clara Oswald." He muttered to the empty air around him as he watched the small crowd of locals hide her exit from his view. She would be able to walk home in a only a few minutes, as they had picked a local pub for just such a reason. More to the point, she would be safe there, which was important considering what he was about to do next.

The infostamp was a problem. A huge problem. The visual data had shown a small army of cybermen constructing an elaborate computer hub, of what type the Doctor was uncertain without taking the stamp back to the TARDIS for further examination. But while any project of the cybermen was worrying, it was the location of the hub that concerned him the most. Heathrow Terminal 5 was a major center for international travel, with thousands of people passing through its gateways every hour. All of those people were now in danger.

Grabbing the infostamp, the Doctor made his own quick exit from the pub and quickly turned the corner into the alley where he had parked the TARDIS.

"I guess we better make this quick." He spoke to himself as much as to his beautiful ship and constant companion, a slightly chagrined smile crossing his face. "I've got a date tomorrow."


AN: So, what did you think? All feedback and comments will be appreciated. Thank you for reading!