"You know, Joan, I could do this forever." The Doctor teased.

"Your eyes are watering," Joan commented dryly.

The Doctor squinched his pale green eyes, struggling not to shut them. Clara laughed lazily and rested her hand on the console of the TARDIS. Abruptly, the Doctor's eyelids flickered.

"Joan of Arc wins!" Clara shrilled and grabbed Joan's hand, raising it up in the air.

Joan stared at her bemusedly. "Is this one of your customs?" Clara snorted and shook her head.

The Doctor sighed loudly and stood, running his hand through his hair. "She cheated." Joan's nostrils flared.

"How could I cheat?"

"I don't know." He marched around the console of the TARDIS.

Clara poked her head around and blinked owlishly. "You're the Doctor; you know everything." The Doctor frowned and straightened his bowtie, which by now Clara had learned that he did when he was either upset or thinking hard.

"There are very, very few things that I do not know, Clara."

"Like how Joan of Arc might've cheated in a staring contest?"

He stared at her a moment. "Maybe."

"Eh-hem." Joan was glancing back and forth between them. "May I be excused? It's time for my morning prayers."

"What?"

Rolling her eyes, Clara grabbed Joan by the arm and steered her towards the door. "You can go." Joan nodded and cast only a furtive glance at the TARDIS before she disappeared into the countryside.

"Didn't she seem strange to you?" Clara turned her head and yelped. The Doctor was standing very close to her, surveying the field with a worried expression.

"How am I supposed to know? She's Joan of Arc. Besides, didn't she hear like, the voice of God or something?"
The Doctor shook his head slightly. "I don't quite know what it was that she heard. The last time I met her, she was about to die and the voices were really the least of her concerns."

Clara gave him a startled look. "You've met her before?"

He nodded slightly, distractedly. "Of course, I looked different, and mind you, she didn't know who I was."

"Why didn't you save her?"

The Doctor suddenly looked very sad. "It was a fixed point in time, Clara. If I could've changed it, I would have."

"But you have a time machine, would it even . . ." Clara trailed off as she realized the Doctor wasn't even standing there. He was halfway across the field, kneeling in the grass and muttering to himself. Suppressing a snort of exasperation, Clara walked through the grass, eventually stopping when she nearly ran into a statue. Smiling apologetically at it, she continued through a pale, misty graveyard. She shivered. Inexplicably, a creeping sense of fear trailed up her spine. There was something about the graveyard that disturbed her, though she couldn't quite figure it out. Doing her best to ignore it, she continued through the graveyard, frozen grass crunching under her feet. Joan sat beneath a willow tree, in front of a gravestone and a statue. Her head was bent over her clasped hands, and her lips moved, though from this distance Clara couldn't hear what she was saying. Feeling like an interloper, but curious, Clara stepped closer.

" . . . Tell my mother." Joan was saying. "I miss her dearly, Lord. Tell her that I think of her every day." Not wanting to intrude anymore, Clara began to back away but froze when she heard another voice. A response.

"I will on one condition." The voice sent shivers down Clara's spine, though the sound itself was not unpleasant. It was smooth and rich, almost buttery, but that wasn't what made Clara wince. The voice carried an odd echo that seemed to shake the ground. Wind whipped Clara in the face, tearing tears from her eyes. The voice continued. "You must kill the man who calls himself the Doctor." At this, Clara's blood ran cold, and she turned, frantic. Only to run headlong into a statue, one that she was certain hadn't been there. She twisted to see if Joan had heard.

Cold fingers gripped her wrist.

She turned back to see the statue closer, its gray hand clamped vise-like on her arm. The blood pounded in her ears. "Doctor?" She called, no longer caring if Joan heard her. "Doctor!"

The Doctor heard Clara's cry, and he glanced around quickly before sprinting in the direction of her voice. Soon he entered a graveyard, and tripped, cursing, over gravestones. But he stopped dead when he saw Clara.

Clara and the angel.

He wanted to shout, to warn her, but his voice wouldn't work. And when he did speak, it was a whisper, hardly audible. And it wasn't Clara's name that came out of his mouth.

"Amy," he croaked hoarsely. "Don't blink."