Author's note: Okay, so ever this turned into something I didn't even intend for it to be. I started writing this as a jealous!Clara one-shot that would probably turn into smut (because yeah… who doesn't like angry sex?), but it turns out it wanted to go down an entirely angstier route and now I think I need a hug. As ever, please read and review! I love feedback, and I feel like this fic kind of plays on a lot of things that are left unsaid in the show.
The TARDIS had materialised outside her house several minutes earlier, but Clara sometimes likes to make the Doctor wait. That, and she's only just come home from meeting Danny and had wanted to change her outfit. Date night clothes are hardly suitable for running for her life in, after all. She ignores the fact that the skirt she's changed into is actually shorter than the one she'd had on before.
She makes her way downstairs and out the front door where the TARDIS sits waiting for her. It's a welcoming sight that sometimes she wishes greeted her more often. Then she tells herself that Danny outside waiting for her in his car is just as good an alternative.
She's got one hand on the door when the sound of voices comes from somewhere behind the wood. She frowns at that. The Doctor talking to himself is no strange occurrence, but this is definitely a two-person conversation, and if Clara isn't mistaken the other voice sounds distinctly female. She doesn't give herself time to ponder over who else might have been allowed to step on board the TARDIS before she's pushing open the door to find out for herself.
The part of her that had hoped she'd been imagining the second voice immediately shrinks in on itself as her eyes settle on a middle-aged blonde standing a few paces away from the Doctor by the console. They're so deep in conversation that neither seem to notice her entrance, and Clara has to clear her throat to get their attention.
The Doctor spins on the spot and flashes her a smile. "Ah, Clara! Glad you could make it. I was just telling Anastasia here all about that giant forest business last week. She's very fascinated by the whole thing."
"I'm sure she is." Clara can't help but grumble in reply. Inwardly she's pondering over how 'Anastasia' sounds like the name of a stripper. Of course she's not bitter at all.
The woman in question slowly turns a smile towards Clara. "It's good to finally meet you. The Doctor's been telling me all about his 'impossible girl'."
Clara can't shake the frown from her face at that. "Finally? So you're an old friend of the Doctor's then?" It's as close as she can get to an interrogation without full-on strapping her down to a chair and shining a torch in her eyes.
"No- Well… not really. He saved me from an asteroid shower a couple of days ago and promised to show me a bit of time and space before he took me back home again." She explains with a smile that Clara is quickly coming to find extremely irritating. "It's a shame that it all has to end now, really."
"Oh, don't say that! Nothing ever really ends. I can always come back for you one day." The Doctor pipes up from where he's fiddling with a few controls on the console. "Clara's busy with her boyfriend these days, so I could do with the company."
She tries not to glare at that. It's true, she does have Danny, but the thought of having to share the Doctor with someone else is one that bothers her more than she'd like to let on. She tries not to think about how hypocritical her own thoughts are turning.
"Well then… You know where I am if you need me." Anastasia remarks, and Clara's certain she can hear an edge of suggestion to her tone. It makes her want to smack the smile right off of her face.
She cuts the Doctor off before he can respond. "Right. Well, I'm here now, so are we going to see some planets or what?" Her arms come up to fold across her chest as she tries not to look as irritated as she feels – it doesn't work, and the Doctor briefly raises an eyebrow at her.
"You'll have to excuse her, Anastasia. She's all over the place at the moment." The Doctor explains, before leaning over to stage whisper to the other woman. "I think she's hormonal."
"I am not hormonal!" The look of amusement on the Doctor's face as she says it makes her want to take his sonic screwdriver and shove it somewhere it definitely won't function correctly from. She notes that she's feeling particularly violent that evening.
"Whatever you say, Clara. You're the boss." He remarks distractedly as he turns towards the console. "First stop, Earth 2457 to drop Anastasia back off home." He pulls the lever on the console and sends them hurtling through time.
As she holds onto the barrier around the edge of the console room, Clara eyes the blonde woman with a slightly curious look; somewhere between a glare and a raised eyebrow. Despite her human appearance, she had assumed the other woman was from another planet.
They land moments later, and Clara's still watching Anastasia through marginally narrowed eyes. If the other woman notices, she doesn't say anything.
"Well… this is me." She points out unnecessarily as she steps away from the console and moves towards the Doctor. Clara feels her grip unconsciously tighten around the cold metal barrier.
"I'll be in touch." He responds politely, before gesturing to the doors with one arm. Clara's glad he doesn't ask her to come with them there and then. She also notes with quiet pleasure that he doesn't look at her as utters the effective dismissal.
She thinks Anastasia's about to leave, but she hesitates and Clara can't quite understand why. One glance at the Doctor reveals his equally puzzled expression – and then she steps forward and hugs him. Somehow it's like a blow to the chest. The old Doctor was always hugging people – she'd often teased that he was a serial hugger – but this Doctor…. This Doctor had even specifically stated that he wasn't a hugger. It was as bad as if this strange woman had waltzed up and kissed him on the mouth right there and then, and Clara found herself looking away to glare with gritted teeth at the wall to her left. She doesn't see the Doctor squirm uncomfortably until Anastasia finally moves away. She doesn't hear her thank him before making her way towards the door. In fact, her eyes don't leave the wall to her left until the sound of the door closing behind the other woman reaches her ears.
"So… where am I taking you today? Thought I'd let you-,"
She cuts him off before he can get the rest of the sentence out. "Are you replacing me?"
He has the decency to look confused. "I'm sorry? Replacing you? Where on earth did you get that idea from?"
"Oh I don't know… how about from the attractive blonde woman you just happened to invite onto the TARDIS in my absence?" Her hands have found their way to her hips as she gives him an accusatory look. She had intended to go for the subtle approach, but apparently that had flown out of the proverbial window already.
"Who? Anastasia? Am I not allowed to have friends now?" He's not looking at her now. His hands are moving over the console in a practiced manner, refined from centuries of piloting his big blue box. She thinks his expression distinctly lacks confusion – almost as though he's been doing all of this on purpose.
"You've got me!"
"And you've got Danny!" He snaps then, whirling on the spot to face her. She notes that his knuckles have turned white where they're gripping the edge of the console and doesn't need to look at his eyebrows to know he's irritated.
"So that's what this is about?" It's dawned on her now as she takes a step closer to him. She tries to even out her breathing; fight down the jealousy and the anger that has settled itself in her chest since she first laid eyes on the Doctor conversing with Anastasia over the TARDIS console. "You're jealous of Danny." It isn't a question.
"I am not jealous!" She thinks he's a little too quick to deny it, but she doesn't say anything.
"Then why can't you just be happy for me?" He looks wounded at that, and she feels guilty for the briefest of moments.
"I am happy for you, Clara." There's an edge of defeat to his voice as he turns his gaze back to the console in the centre of the room. He's silent for a moment, clearly lost in thought, before he turns his gaze back on her. "But you can't expect me to sit around twiddling my thumbs all day every day until the next Wednesday comes around. I'm not some lovesick schoolboy, whose entire life revolves around silently waiting on the side-lines for you to up and decide you want to pay attention to me for five minutes. If you want to have your own life outside of the TARDIS then that's all fine and dandy, but you have to be prepared to let me have mine." Another pause. "After all, you said so yourself; I'm just a hobby."
He's looking away now, and that feeling of guilt is creeping back in to settle in the centre of her chest. It's not a pleasant sensation, and she finds it hard to keep her gaze on his face as he tries to feign interest in the controls he's been fiddling with for the past ten minutes.
"I didn't mean…" She takes a breath, glancing away for the briefest of moments to gather her thoughts. "You're more than just a hobby, Doctor – you're my friend." It's a term she's never been entirely clear on, but she sticks with friend because to imagine anything more between them causes her head and her heart to hurt in equal measures. "But… I can't build my life around you and the TARDIS." There's a moment of silence but for her footsteps as she creeps over to stand by his side at the console. "I know as well as you do what happens to everyone who travels with you in the end… They get left behind." Clara swallows the sudden lump in her throat at the thought of never seeing him again. "And if that's to be my fate, then at least this way I'll have a life to be left with." Her reasons for not wanting to move into the TARDIS have always been something she never wanted to explain, and now she's baring her thoughts and feelings to him like an open book.
"I have no intention of leaving you behind." He states after a moment, and she doesn't think he's lying. What she thinks is he doesn't have a choice in the matter.
"I'm sure you had no intention of leaving the others behind either, but none of them are here now." It's clear from the way his fingers still in their tracing of a lever that he knows she has a point. "If I could spend the rest of my days travelling with you in the TARDIS then god- god knows I would." She suddenly has the urge to cry, but she holds it back for both their sakes. "But we both know that all good things have to come to an end. And Danny… Danny's my way of preparing myself for a life without you in it." The silence seems to stretch out between them for an eternity, before she finally adds: "Besides, you said so yourself; you're not my boyfriend."
There's a moment where she just watches him – watches as his fingers fidget and twitch over the console, and she knows he's building up to something. Then he turns to face her slowly, hands falling down into loose fists by his sides. It's an uncomfortable stance, and for a moment she worries over what he's going to say, and then; "I'm not your boyfriend, no." He takes an inward breath, his eyes briefly flickering shut as though it pains him to say the words: "But that doesn't mean I don't wish I could be." They both know it's as close to a declaration of love as the Doctor is ever likely to get.
When his eyes open again, she ignores the way they glisten with unshed tears – her own are already streaming, after all – and takes advantage of his brief moment of stillness to lift herself up onto her toes and press her lips softly against his. As his eyes flutter closed and his hands lift to hesitantly cup her face in his palms, she thinks to herself that kisses like this only belong in fairytales- and fairytales are too perfect to ever truly last.