The Clara in this story is a shard, for clarification.
I was born to save the Doctor.
Clara hummed as she wiped down the counter top, the words tumbling around in her head. She couldn't quite remember where she'd heard them- a song on the radio, perhaps? The door jangled and Clara glanced up at the first customers of the day. A man with long, curly brown hair came in, dressed in highly anachronistic attire. A taller, scruffier man in a leather jacket followed him. They made a bit of an odd pair, not exactly the sort of people you'd expect to find in an ice cream shop. "Good morning!" Clara said brightly, dropping the rag in a bucket behind the counter.
"Ah, good morning!" The man in the green jacket called back, beaming back at her. The scruffier one mumbled something and halfway raised his hand, apparently still half asleep.
"Doctor, it's too early in the morning for this," he complained. Clara was a bit surprised at their accents; you didn't typically find very many British people in the Midwest states. The Doctor – unusual name, but she wasn't going to judge – shook his head and dragged his friend over to the front counter.
"Nonsense, Fitz. You can have ice cream any time of day," he said absently, inspecting the flavors. Fitz looked at Clara over the glass divide, a long-suffering look on his face.
"D'you have any tea?"
"We have green tea flavored ice cream," she replied, pointing it out. Fitz sighed.
"Good enough."
"Oh, may I have a strawberry cone, please?" The Doctor asked earnestly, looking up. Clara couldn't help but smile at the expression on his face; he reminded her of a little kid.
"Don't forget, we have to pick up something for Anji too, Doc," Fitz said, in the tone of one who often had to remind a forgetful person.
"Oh, yes! Low-fat chocolate in a bowl too, please." The Doctor smiled at her. Clara grinned back and set to work scooping out the assorted flavors. The Doctor wandered down to the cash register and started pulling change out of various pockets.
"Here you are!" Clara passed the ice cream to the Doctor after he'd paid.
"Thank you, Clara." Clara smiled even wider, in genuine pleasure this time. She liked it when people used her name, instead of just 'girl' or the dreaded 'hey, you'. She watched him wander over to the table Fitz had claimed by the window before returning to washing down the counter. Clara glanced up occasionally, fully aware that she was eavesdropping, but hey, they were the only other people in the store.
"I still can't believe you wouldn't let me stop and get more cigarettes," Fitz was saying as the Doctor handed him his ice cream. The Doctor frowned at him.
"Is that why you're so jittery this morning?"
"That and the fact that I keep expecting some baddie to jump us."
"You make it sound as if our lives are always in danger," the Doctor pouted. Fitz just stared at him and took a bite from his cone. Clara paused in her cleaning, intrigued. Who were these two, anyway? She flushed when the Doctor looked in her direction and hastily attacked an invisible spot of dirt. "Nothing is going to happen. I just wanted to take some time to relax."
"Hmm." Fitz didn't sound entirely convinced and the Doctor sighed.
"Do you really not want to be with me right now?"
"No!" Fitz exclaimed, then seemed to realize just how loudly he'd spoken and blushed. "No, this is nice. Very…peaceful."
"Good. Let me try a bit of that." The Doctor leaned over the table and grabbed Fitz's hand, pulling the cone towards him and taking a lick before Fitz could protest.
"Doctor!" He complained. "That's gross." Clara hid a grin.
"It's quite good, actually. Do you want some of mine?" The Doctor offered his cone and Fitz shook his head.
"No thanks. I don't like strawberry."
"Suit yourself." The Doctor shrugged. "You're missing out, you know." He was still holding Fitz's hand and didn't seemed inclined to let go, so Fitz transferred the cone to his other hand.
"I'll manage," he said dryly. Clara was unabashedly watching them now, trying to figure out their relationship. They seemed very comfortable with each other, flirtatious, even. Although given the Doctor's child-like nature she had to wonder how much of it was conscious.
Fitz finished off the last of his cone and gave the Doctor's hand a squeeze. "I'm going to buy a pack. Don't try and stop me." He pushed the chair back and stood up. The Doctor watched him, frowning.
"All right. But I really wish you wouldn't smoke." Fitz just shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking slightly awkward. "Meet me back at the TARDIS?"
"Yeah."
The Doctor tugged one of Fitz's hands out of its pocket and gave his palm a kiss. Fitz blushed and Clara smiled in delight, mentally categorizing them as dating. "Okay. Be careful."
"You said it yourself, Doc," Fitz said as he walked towards the door. "Nothing's going to happen." The Doctor watched him walk past the window, then stood up himself.
"Thank you again, Clara," he said pleasantly, heading her way.
"Oh! Careful!" Clara blurted out and the Doctor stopped. "There's a puddle there. I forgot to clean it up earlier." She pointed at a spot near his feet and the Doctor blinked down.
"Ah. You saved me a nasty fall then."
"I was born to save the Doctor," Clara muttered to herself. The Doctor looked up quizzically.
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing." Clara grinned. "Just some song lyric that's been stuck in my head. You two are very cute, by the way."
"Hmm?" The Doctor had sidestepped the puddle and made his way up to the counter.
"You and your boyfriend," she explained, hoping she hadn't got it wrong.
"What?" Comprehension dawned on the Doctor. "Oh, no, no, no. Fitz isn't my boyfriend."
"Oh." Clara flushed in embarrassment. Whoops. "Sorry…it's just the way you two act. You look like a couple." The Doctor looked at her kindly.
"Don't be sorry. You're not the first person to assume that." He paused, considering. "I am rather fond of him, though."
"I could tell."
"Well, I'd best be off now. But before I go…" The Doctor started going through his pockets again, pulling out numerous items that really shouldn't have been able to fit and placing them on the counter. "Ah-ha! Here we are." He brandished the piece of paper triumphantly and Clara blinked, puzzled.
"What is it?" The Doctor looked down at the notecard.
"It's a soufflé recipe. You should give it a try."
"How…?" There was no way he could've known she liked to bake. And there was especially no way he could've known she'd been having troubles with her soufflés. The Doctor smiled disarmingly.
"I just had a feeling." He began returning the rest of the bizarre assortment of objects to his pockets. Clara took the recipe and slipped it into her own pocket, making a note to test it out when she got home.
"Well then. Thank you."
"No, thank you." Clara laughed.
"That's the third time you've thanked me! What did I do that was so special?"
"You exist," the Doctor said seriously. Then he leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek. Clara opened her mouth in surprise, raising her hand to her face. It wasn't every day you got a kiss from a handsome, mysterious stranger. The Doctor pulled back and smiled once again.
"I've really got to leave now. Anji will be upset if her ice cream melts." He lifted the bowl. The Doctor started for the entrance, then stopped and turned in the doorway. "Perhaps we'll meet again?"
"You never know," Clara grinned cheekily. The Doctor nodded thoughtfully.
"True. To the future then." Then he was gone. Clara stared after him for a bit before returning once more to cleaning the counters, singing happily under her breath.
"I was born to save the Doctor…"