Two miserable people meet at a wedding

Eleven/Clara

K+

The Doctor adjusted his necktie with a scowl. Amy reached across Rory's empty chair and poked him in the ribs.

"Ow!"

"It's my wedding day; stop being such a grump."

He continued to frown. "I hate neckties."

"You wear bowties daily—what's the difference?"

A small smile curled his lips. "I recall a certain kissogram once locked mine in a car door. Sort of turned me off them."

Amy grinned and then shrugged. "You weren't paying attention."

He smiled sadly as she returned her attention to her champagne and Rory sat back down to his seat between them.

You've had my attention ever since.

Oddly—or not so oddly if you knew Amy and Rory—the two had both chosen members of the opposite sex to stand beside them on their wedding day. Even more oddly, they decided to stick to the traditional gender roles, so the Doctor, Amy's best friend, stood as Rory's best man, while Rory's best friend from work, a pretty girl named Clara, stood next to Amy.

Clara felt completely at sea in this group of people. There were a few work friends in the crowd, but really—Rory was the only person she knew well. She was still incredibly flattered that he and Amy had asked her to serve as Maid of Honour, especially since she still didn't know Amy that well, but she'd never felt so lonely or out of place at a wedding.

She glanced at the happy couple next to her and smiled softly as they leaned in close to whisper something that made them both giggle like children. Her attention was then caught by the best man sitting on Rory's other side. He was also watching the bride and groom, but there was a sadness in his eyes that didn't suit his face. Three glasses of wine later, Clara approached him when the DJ put on the first song. She tugged him from his chair.

"Come dance with me."

"Wha—? I… Oh, OK."

She giggled at how flustered he was, but then smiled when he placed his hands at her waist and they started swaying to the beat. It was probably too upbeat for them to be holding each other like this; most of the couples on the dance floor were just moving in front of each other and laughing, but she had a belly full of wine and he'd touched her out of instinct. He felt like a prat now that he saw everyone else moving around him, but he thought it would be even more awkward to pull his hands away.

Clara laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, easing some of the tension from his shoulders. He smiled hesitantly and couldn't help but stare at her face; she was even prettier up close.

"You should do that more, you know," she said over the noise.

"Do what?"

"Smile. I've never seen someone look so sour at their best friend's wedding."

Her cheery expression faded as soon as the words left her mouth. The Doctor and Clara both silently acknowledged what that meant, and Clara offered him a soft smile. He watched her curiously as she lifted one of her hands to cradle the back of his neck, unsure of what it was she was trying to express—pity, compassion… attraction? He was probably hoping a bit on the last one.

Then again, they were still dancing two songs later, when the DJ put on a slow number that had Rory and Amy holding each other close in the middle of the dance floor. Clara caught the Doctor watching them and she drew his ear towards her lips. "Meet me by the fountain in two minutes."

"What?" he asked in bewilderment as she slipped away. She disappeared quickly in the crowd—she was terribly short—so, after glancing about helplessly, the Doctor did as he was told.

The fountain was located in a small courtyard just outside the reception hall. The Doctor shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and appraised it as he stood there, waiting for Clara to reappear. He kept glancing over at the doors to the reception, hoping she'd emerge from them soon so he'd feel less foolish standing there all alone, when he heard heels clicking on the stone walkway behind him.

She had a frosted bottle of champagne in one hand and two glass flutes clutched in the other. She flashed him a self-satisfied grin at her acquisition and then said, "Let's go for a walk."

They left through the gated entrance to the building and then walked along the gravel path next to the car park before they found a dark, dimly lit garden beyond the main building that had a bench swing hanging from the heavy branch of an old tree.

"Perfect," she said as they sat down, their heels digging in the grass to set the swing in motion. She handed him the bottle of champagne as they swung lazily back and forth. "Care to do the honours?"

She smoothed the wrinkles from her red chiffon skirt and then laughed at the Doctor's scrunched up features as he struggled to remove the cork from the bottle. "Having trouble?"

He shook his head, still grimacing. "I don't want it to get everywhere."

"Ah—something every girl wants to hear."

His baffled What? was accompanied by the loud pop of the champagne bottle. Foam spurted from the neck onto his trousers and Clara laughed as he groaned in annoyance.

"At least he had good intentions," she teased as she swiped at his knees.

He kissed her. It was quick, and his lips moved too eagerly against hers, but he pulled back before she could properly reciprocate.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" she teased, breathlessly.

He bowed his head and shook it dismissively. "I just… wanted to kiss you."

Clara reached for his necktie and tugged it from his waistcoat, letting the cream-coloured silk slip through her fingers. "A man who goes for what he wants… an admirable quality." She leaned in close, almost like she was going to kiss him, but instead she lifted her eyes to his and asked, "Then why do I have a feeling this night isn't what you wanted?"

She looked at him the same way as she had on the dance floor. The Doctor glanced towards the reception hall, which seemed terribly small from their relative distance from it, and then back at Clara. "This is exactly what I wanted."

"No, it isn't."

"How would you know? You don't even know me," he said defensively.

"No, I don't," she agreed. "But I understand what it's like to long for someone you can't have."

He glanced away guiltily. Clara heaved a sigh and then grabbed the bottle of champagne from his grasp so she could pour them two full glasses.

"A toast, then," she said, offering him his glass. He couldn't help but smile at her as he accepted it. "To neither of us getting what we want."

It was only then that he realised that Clara harboured similar feelings for Rory. It seemed impossible that they were both sitting there, tacitly confessing their feelings for the newlywed couple they were serving as honoured witnesses to their marriage. The Doctor was the first to laugh at the absurdity of it all and Clara joined him, baring her white teeth as she bowed her head and giggled. She lifted her champagne flute to his and they tapped the glasses together with a muttered 'cheers' before they each took deep gulps of the bubbly liquid.

"So what is it you do, Doctor?" she asked.

"I'm an engineer," he said. "I build things."

"Ah," she replied with an impressed smile.

"And you're a nurse."

Clara frowned. "No, I'm not."

"You work with Rory…"

She laughed. "Yes, in the children's ward. I'm a counsellor."

"Oh," he replied soberly. "Must be rough."

She nodded, a sad smile gracing her lips. "It can be, but not always."

Her heart skipped a beat when he looked into her eyes, his gaze unwavering. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Clara bit her lip and allowed her gaze to drop to his mouth. "Go on, then."

He shifted towards her and tilted his head until his lips brushed against hers. Clara closed her eyes and pursed her lips against his, her heart beating rapidly when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, deepening the kiss. She lifted her free hand to his cheek, and he swept the tip of his tongue between her lips. They froze for a moment, both of them breathing heavily as they savoured each other's closeness and warmth before pulling back to look at each other.

"I've never kissed anyone at a wedding before," she said in a hush. "I know that's a thing people do, but I've never done it."

"I have, but only at my own."

Clara leaned back a little in surprise. "You're married?"

"I was. Not anymore."

"Oh. Divorce?"

He shook his head. "No."

Clara shut her eyes and bowed her head against the crook of his neck in silent apology. He exhaled heavily and hugged her to him, his hand rubbing up and down her arm in a soothing manner. He loved her in that moment, this beautiful girl with a kind heart who went out of her way to make him feel less lonely on one of the loneliest nights of his life.

"Would you like to meet for coffee sometime?" he asked.

Clara lifted her head and smiled up at him. "I like coffee."

He smiled hesitantly. "Was that a yes?"

She bit her lip and lowered her gaze for a moment before finally nodding. The Doctor released the breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Yes."

They sipped their champagne and swung back and forth for another hour, chatting about Amy and Rory and everything else that popped back into their heads. He kissed her before they said goodnight; it was a sweet kiss that promised many more, and Clara giggled bashfully when she pulled away.

"See you Wednesday?"

"What's Wednesday?" he asked.

"My night off."

He grinned. "See you Wednesday."