Her morning started off normal- like everything did, nowadays. All the hours blurred together in such a bland manner, that Clara Oswald hardly had any motive for getting up today.
She was thirty-one years old, living alone in a tiny apartment, located in the outer corners of Lancashire. Her life lacked adventure, curiosity, and those strange situations that she had a knack for getting herself roped into. Her life was void of a plethora of things. Most importantly?
Bow-ties.
And this wasn't alarming at all. Bow-ties were, in fact, exceedingly cool.
Grinning at the though, she pushed off the myriad of blankets that enveloped her, struggling against the weight of the many sheets. She had, at the very least, found some sort of reason to get up today. She should at least make herself a cup of tea, while she was at it.
No, tea wouldn't do- she was in need of something that would spark the life, back into her lifeless brown eyes.
This was already a lost cause, Clara knew. Only one thing, only one person, could make her heart race, like it used to.
And they were long gone.
Granted, it wasn't his fault. All her really wanted to do was keep her safe. And that was exactly what she was. Living in her safe apartment, in a safe city, etched with the footprints of all the safe people, that had walked over this safe world. Oh, yes, Earth was very safe. And, why?
Because he was protecting it.
Ignoring the bubbling anger in the pit of her stomach, Clara did her best to push all thoughts of the dual-hearted, twelve-hundred year old Time Lord, away. She'd spent so many years building up her walls, and she wasn't about to let him slip through those cracks. Realizing that she was out of coffee, the brunette groaned.
Well, doesn't today have the makings of a beautiful morning? she thought, sarcastically.
Sporting a knee-length, bright red dress, black booths, and her chestnut waves loose, Clara didn't even take the time to enjoy the pleasant spring Saturday. Try as she might to stop it, her mind kept drifting off to fezzes, and to oval glasses. To bow-ties, floppy hair, and unusually big chins.
In fact, her mind had been so focused, on not focusing, on these (relatively dangerous) thoughts, that she didn't see the tiny girl, speeding off in her direction, until it was too late. The collision had shunted the little child onto the floor, and had left a lasting effect on Clara's weak shins.
"Sorry!" the girl said, apologetically, and flashed the petite brunette a toothy grin. Her outright euphoria was contagious, and Clara soon found herself smiling along, and kneeling down.
"It's all right." The young girl, who couldn't be older than seven or eight, had shoulder-length, dark brown hair, and light hazel eyes. :And where exactly are you off to, in such a hurry?" Clara queried, in a sweet tone.
"Library." Said the girl simply.
"You like to read?" The girl hesitated, then nodded- somewhat mechanically.
"Well, yes. But, truly, I'm going for the computers. I like all the technical stuff." She admitted fervently. "I think that I'd very much like to work with computers, once I'm older." The child mused. "That... and travel!"
Clara nodded at the bright-eyed girl, and couldn't help but notice, that she seemed familiar. Just has one of those faces... Clara decided. "I'm rubbish at computers," Clara said. "Although, I did have my shining moment. Of course if I had to be nearly uploaded to the Great Intelligence, every time I wanted to surf the web, I think I'd go mad. Wonder what the Doctor would say, if I got myself into a mess like that again." She laughed for a moment, before stopping. "It, uh, it doesn't really matter now. Just be careful where you run. Slow down, enjoy the view. You could miss a lot, you know." Clara felt as if she were talking more to herself, than to the attentive girl. "Don't dwell." The brunette said softly.
It was only after the girl emitted a tiny cough, that Clara was snapped out of her reverie. She forced a smile, and ruffled the kid's hair. "Anyway, off you go!" The girl giggled, and skipped past Clara, waving goodbye. Although she hardly deemed it appropriate, the brunette was pulled to question one more thing, before the little girl could be on her way.
"Oi, what's your name?" She called out. The young child turned around, before answering:
"Oswin. Oswin Oswald." Then, she turned around, and disappeared past the street corner.
Oswin Oswald? That's impossible.
She smirked at the irony. She was the Impossible Girl, after all. She was overthinking this, it was just one of those crazy coincidences- kind of like, when you learn a new word, and you start hearing it and reading it, everywhere. It meant nothing significant.
But, then again, how crazy of a coincidence would it have to be, to meet a child who just happened to have a name, equal to that of one of your past reincarnations (who was, basically, only born to save the man you can't seem to forget)? How common of a girl's name was Oswin, anyways? And it's not like she'd met many people with the surname 'Oswald.' Now, a combination of the two?
Come to think of it, this 'Oswin' had looked a lot like Clara herself, and, thus, she looked a lot like the other Oswin must've, when she was a kid. Same hair, same eyes, same comprehension of the enigmatic internet...
Oh, my stars. Clara realized that she had, in fact, met a younger version, of her own incarnation- The Oswin that hadn't yet been stuck inside a Dalek for a year. It surprised her just how easily she accepted this theory. Then again, she had seen much stranger things...
Clara hadn't thought about the Doctor for so long... So many years without him. Without the Snogbox. Without the mention of the deliciousness of fish fingers and custard.
It wasn't fair. She was much more miserable now, than she ever had been with him. It wasn't just the Doctor's natural charisma that pulled her to him, it was also the excitement of traveling to faraway lands. Of seeing things that she could hardly have imagined in her dreams. Of witnessing more in a handful of minutes, than N.A.S.A had, in a handful of years. Even if she were dead, she would have gone on peacefully and happily, knowing she lived her life to the fullest.
He was wrong, and that wasn't something she could say a lot.
After saving Gallifrey, and seeing the Doctor's past regenerations on their way, the legendary man turned to his companion, and gave her his big, sad eyes. Clara frowned.
"Hey, look at me. You saved Gallifrey- I imagined you'd be jumping up and down with glee." She told him softly, getting a gut feeling that he was about to do something that she would not like. That she would not forgive.
"And I wouldn't have done it without you." He said. "Which makes this even harder." She was sure that the Doctor had made to mutter that last part, but she heard him loud and clear. All at once, warning sirens went off in her head.
"No." She whispered.
"I'm dangerous, Clara. I am a danger to everything, and everyone, around me.
"Doctor-" Clara intercepted.
"I destroy everything I touch."
"No, you don't. Doctor, you saved something that desperately needed saving." She was shouting now, growing desperate for him to understand that he couldn't do this- not to her.
He scoffed at this. "After you advised me not to. Face it, I would've destroyed Gallifrey like that- I didn't even think about saving it, until I saw how horrible it was, for you to witness a race die out.
Clara really didn't like this. He was beginning to sound like his ninth regeneration, that she vaguely recalled, from jumping inside his time stream. "You're not thinking clearly, right now. You aren't being yourself." He seemingly ignored this, and trekked on.
"I want you to be safe." Clara felt herself growing angry, as her temper flared.
"Safe from what? From Daleks? From Cybermen? In case you haven't noticed by now, Doctor, I can take care of myself."
"Safe from me!" He told her, sad green eyes, meeting murky brown ones, which softened.
"Please. Please, don't send me away." She was crying now, and the Doctor- feeling more depressed than ever- embraced her tightly.
"Oh, Clara. I am so sorry."
Clara tried to clear her mind. She wasn't exactly too keen to go out in public right now, her mascara was most likely running, and she probably looked like something out of 'The Walking Dead.' However, the thought of boiling coffee seemed like a good idea right now, and she walked into the coffee shop.
Seeing the line regrettably empty, and realizing that she wouldn't have any time to compose herself, Clara kept her head down, wiping at the teardrops on her face. She didn't need some Psych major seeing her, and showing her ink blots, or a busboy flirting with her, by offering to "make her less vulnerable."
"What'll you have today, miss?"
"Coffee. Two creams, no sugar." Clara answered, robotically. It took some time, but the man finally rung up her order.
"Name?" There was a light timbre change in his voice, as though he were smiling cheerily at her. Probably noticed you crying. Probably thinks you're pathetic. And with good reason, too... A nasty voice, in the back of her head, sneered.
"Name, miss?" He queried again, not impatiently, but kindly.
"Uh, Clara Oswin Oswald." She answered, her mind elsewhere. Rolling her eyes, but not bothering to correct her mistake, she closed her eyes and listened to the scribbling of the sharpie on the cup.
"Have a nice day, Miss Clara Oswin Oswald!" There was something about the way he said her name- cheekily, yet charming- that urged her to look up, but she only muttered a "thanks," and sat back down.
She took a quick swig of her beverage, and winced, as it burned her tongue. The coffee was boiling. Well, it usually was. So much for being clever. She twiddled her thumbs impatiently, as she waited for the coffee to cool down. Her index fingers began to absentmindedly trace the slanted scrawl scratched onto the surface of the cup. She traced over the 'C,' over the 'O,' and the 'M.'
The 'M?'
She didn't have an 'M' in her name... Focusing her eyes, Clara read the untidy handwriting:
- Clara Oswin Oswald: More commonly known to me, as The Impossible Girl.
My Impossible Girl.
Below that, was a crudely drawn picture of what appeared to be the Snogbox. The TARDIS.
Her breath hitched in her throat, as she read and re-read the message over countless times. Either somebody was playing a very cruel practical joke on her, or... Impossible.
She slowly turned around, to face the boyish grin of the Eleventh Doctor- a smug look on his face.
They stared at each other for a little while longer, Clara slightly frightened to move. If this was a dream, she didn't really want to wake up just yet. The Doctor, however had a different idea, and he ran up to Clara, and hugged her tightly. They stayed like this for quite some time, ignoring the murmurs of the other customers.
"Clara," he whispered surreally, as though he could hardly believe it was really her. "My Clara."
"My Doctor." She quipped, before pulling back, and smacking his shoulder.
"Ow!" He groaned, taken by surprise at the burst of strength, from a woman who hardly reached his chin.
"Oi! Took you long enough!" She shouted in mock anger. He cupped her cheek, and gave her an apologetic look.
"I'm really sorry. I wanted you to be safe, but.. it turns out that I'm also very selfish. I stayed away as long as I could, but, I just needed to see you again. I never knew that I was selfish. Interesting discovery, eh?"
He was rambling, but his words had been sincere. She smiled, as her stomach began to feel fluttery. "You're forgiven." She told him, and his face brightened almost instantaneously. "Now, what exactly are you doing here? I can't be the only reason?"
"Break in the time rift. Parallel words entering realities." He hastily added, seeing Clara's puzzled expression.
So, that explains Oswin. She thought, still focusing on the fact that her time-travelling alien was back where he was supposed to be- with her.
"Plus," he added. "I just really wanted to find you."
Clara smirked. "Oh, really? Well, you found me."
The Doctor grinned. "Don't you get it, Clara? No matter how far away you are: I- will- always- find- you."
Clara could hardly keep a straight face, although her cheeks felt ready to explode from smiling so much. "So, what exactly are you going to do about this, so-called, time rift?" She queried, a hopeful glint shining in her eyes.
The Doctor looked down at the petite girl that he so deeply ached for. She wasn't like any of the others- he just couldn't stay away.
"Oh, you know. Save the world." He shrugged, as if it were nothing (then again, to him, saving the world was as common as drinking tea, in the morning).
"That's what you do."
"That's what we do." He corrected tentatively, hinting at what he couldn't voice.
"Oh, so there's a 'we' again." Clara answered, coyly twisting her hair around her finger.
"Well, yeah, if, you know, you want to. Or- or not. Y-you don't have-" She quieted his flustered ramblings, by pressing a well-manicured finger to his lips. He stopped talking instantaneously.
"Of course I want to." She told him, softly. "It's you and I, Chin. Always."
And... That's a wrap!
This is my first Doctor Who piece (the first of many, seeing as how I have a few, in the works), and my first written work on my new account. I think Clara was a bit OOC, but she had to be, for the sake of the story. Thank you for reading!
Hope you enjoyed, and please review:
~ Silver