Ghosts

After reuniting the crooked lovers and saying their goodbyes to Professor Palmer, Emma, and Hila, The Doctor and Clara hopped into the TARDIS and continued their adventures amidst time and space. The Doctor leaped up the steps to the console and pulled the lever sending them through the time vortex.

"Where to this time Clara Oswald?" he asked sweeping with a big grin on his face towards Clara, who was leaning against the railing of the steps with her arms crossed. She shrugged her shoulders with a smile.

"I don't know. I don't really want to go anywhere," she replied. The Doctor's face fell.

"Why not?" he asked, distraught.

Clara laughed. "I just don't Chin Boy. Can't we just take a break for a little bit?" she skipped towards the archway and turned back towards the Doctor. "One adventure through time and space is enough for now." She turned and left the console room. The Doctor was left stunned. He would never understand her, he realized shaking his head. He turned back to the console and pressed buttons, sending the ship traveling through the time vortex for the time being, withholding a destination.

Clara wandered along the winding corridors of the immense spaceship. The main reason she didn't want to go anywhere was just to be able to explore the TARDIS more. After the stunt both she and the machine pulled in saving the Doctor, it was high time they started to get properly acquainted. She passed the kitchen, the dining room, the lounge, her room, and other rooms that she didn't know where they led to, but didn't have any distinct markings that might have been important. All the doors were shining with a wooden varnish. Clara kept walking down corridors, when she came across a door that appeared to be faded, like it had been forgotten. She stopped to look at it more closely. There was nothing particularly special about the door, except for that faded exterior. She turned the knob and walked into the room.

It appeared to be a drawing room of some sorts. With the walls painted a soft pale yellow, there was a sofa and an arm chair in front of a fireplace. Could the TARDIS actually have a fireplace?

Well if there's a kitchen, I guess, she decided. She explored the room some more. The tables were covered in a thin layer of dust. The Doctor obviously did not visit this room often. On top of the mantle was a small clock synchronized to the time on Clara's watch.

"Blimey he like the U.K." She muttered. Gazing around the rest of the room, Clara walked into an open space. In the corner stood a record player atop a tall side table. Inspecting the machine to see if it was still in working order, Clara picked up the needle and placed it onto the groove. There was a crackle, but the music started to play, and it echoed through the corridors.

Oh my love, my darling, I've hungered for your touch

Clara grazed her fingers over the record player and wandered back into the open. Feeling at ease in the simplicity of the space, she swayed gently in time with the music.

The Doctor had just finished the last of the maintenance routines he had been meaning to get around to doing. Pushing up his goggles, he sighed. Now he was bored. The TARDIS hummed indignantly and the Doctor looked up at the console.

"Oi! Don't you get saucy with me!" he argued back, pointing a finger. He took off the goggles and dropped them into one of the compartments at his feet. Running his fingers through his hair, he set off to find Clara. Maybe she had changed her mind and wanted to go on another adventure.

The Doctor started down a corridor. He had absolutely no idea where Clara was and there were a bazillion possibilities of where she could be. He continued on his blind search regardless. The first couple of rooms held no promise. Clara had not decided to try soufflé making. Nor was she reading in the library, swimming in the pool, stargazing on the astronomy deck, painting in the art gallery, in the green house, the theater, the arcade, the wardrobe, or her room, the dullest of all places. Covering the first hallway, the Doctor was quite tired of searching for Clara and decided to pull out his sonic screwdriver for help, just as he heard the faintness of music coming from around the corner.

Are you still miiiiiiiine?

The Doctor followed the melody to its source: a faded wooden door on the corner. He knew that door. Every time he walked down this hallway, he avoided it. The door was opened just a crack; enough to let the music escape but not enough for the Doctor to look inside. Mustering up the courage, the Doctor grasped the door knob and pushed it open.

The sight shouldn't have been too shocking, but it was still a surprise nonetheless. In the middle of the drawing room was Clara, spinning and swaying to the music, her back to the entrance, lost in her own little world. But upon hearing the door, Clara turned and was greeted by the Doctor's curious face. She smiled and gestured for him to come in. Slowly, he opened the door a little more and walked gingerly inside the room. It had been so long; surely the TARDIS would have deleted this room by now. Maybe she knew that he still had a soft spot for it, somewhere.

"Come in, don't be shy," Clara urged. The Doctor had been taking very slow steps. She walked over to him with quicker ones, her hand outstretched to take his. "Dance with me!"

The Doctor held up his hands in surrender. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly—" but she had already caught his left hand and was dragging him to the cleared space. "Clara!"

"Doctor!" she laughed, pulling him into the open area. She turned back towards the Doctor, rested both hands on his shoulders, and continued to sway to the music. Left with little choice, the Doctor awkwardly placed his hands around Clara's waist.

Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea

He couldn't bear to remember. It hurt to remember her. Her blonde hair with dark roots, her tongue in teeth smile, and her pink and yellow skin.

To the open arms of the seeeaaa

"Doctor?" The Doctor snapped out of his own thoughts and looked down at the small brunette. Her large brown eyes gazed up at him tinted with concern and confusion.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said. The Doctor smiled, and he pulled Clara closer to him, planting a kiss into her hair. His arms enveloped her in a hug, while hers wrapped around his neck.

"Oh, this place is full of them Clara." And they continued to sway with the music. Looking across the room, he could almost see his former self and Rose Tyler slow dancing as well, and his eyes watered. How he missed her. How he missed being him. How he missed what they had. It wasn't quite like what he had with River. Although he loved her, it was different with Rose. Not a good different or a bad different, just different. There would be no one to replace her, just like there would be no one to replace River.

Oh my love, my darling, I've hungered—hungered for your touch!

He looked down, feeling the hint of a smile against his purple tweed jacket. He smiled and pulled Clara closer to him, if that was possible, and planted another kiss in her hair. Oh, his Clara. There would be no one to replace her either. His Clara. How fortunate he was to have her in his life. How lucky he was to have her to hold his hand and always be with him. She made him better without knowing it. He gazed back at the ghosts dancing in the room and it didn't hurt as much. He had the memories of him and Clara to balance it out. His Clara. His impossible girl.

And time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much!

He swept her up with bolder steps, spinning her across the room. Clara shrieked and giggled at the sudden change in the Doctor's demeanor. It pleased her that he was finally enjoying this.

I need your love! I need your love. God speed your love to me

The Doctor spun Clara in the air, holding her closer with each turn. As the song finished, he slowed to a stop and placed Clara gently back on the ground. Pulling herself out of the Doctor's embrace, Clara was left breathless. She gazed up at him smiling with wonderment in her eyes. He never ceased to amaze her, her Doctor. He beamed back at her and kissed her on the forehead.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"For what?"

"For being you, Clara."

"I don't understand." But the Doctor just smiled.

"You will," he reassured her. "One day." He looked around the room and continued to smile. Then his gaze stilled at the corner by the record player. Clara noticed, and looked behind her. No one was there, but looking back towards the Doctor, it seemed as if he was looking at someone. A friend, or a loved one. She turned back and still, nothing.

"Doctor?" he snapped out of his memories and looked down towards Clara.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked rather quickly.

Clara stood there, the question on her lips. Who was it that he used to share this room with? Who was it that he danced with? That he would keep a clock set to a specific time for? Who was it that he could see now as if that person were still here. But she couldn't ask. She wouldn't dare bring back the memories of all the people he lost, of the ones he loved that were now all gone.

Clara shook her head and smiled. "Nothing," she answered. She proceeded to walk out of the room, but stopped briefly to squeeze the Doctor's hand. They shared a look of understanding; his of what she was doing, and hers of what he needed. And the Doctor watched as Clara left the drawing room.

Turning back, the space felt emptier. There were no more ghosts to haunt him. Just the memories that Clara seemed to have brighten. The Doctor looked around and smiled. This room was no longer a place to avoid, but to cherish. Deciding on that, he also took note of the polishing and dusting the place needed. Adding that to his to-eventually-do list, the Doctor turned and walked out of the room to find Clara. Perhaps now she would want to go on another adventure.