So I wrote this as a headcanon meme response for lunarsilverwolfstar a while back and there was interest in me expanding upon it and I've finally gotten there! The reason I've finally gotten this written is because it's chocolatequeen's birthday! So this story is dedicated to you and I hope you have an absolutely stellar birthday!

He was tinkering with the remnants of what used to be his laptop the first time she came in. He didn't look up when he heard the soft tinkle of the bell that Clara insisted he keep above the door, figuring that if whoever it was had questions, they'd find him. No need for him to make a fuss about their entrance.

That lasted until he looked up and saw her lingering in front of the sci-fi section, contemplating the books and chewing on the side of her thumb. It was a quick glance up that turned into a double take, peering at her profile from underneath his eyebrows, hands stilling as his pretense of tinkering ceased.

She was blonde, that was the first bit of information to register. She was blonde and of middling height and the way she kept shifting her weight from foot to foot while she read the summary of a book kept drawing his eyes down to her hips.

The woman was nothing out of the ordinary - mid to late twenties, bit more attractive than the norm, apparently interested in sci-fi - and he couldn't put his finger on why his attention had been caught by her.

She turned suddenly, too quickly for him to avert his gaze and pretend he was still tinkering, and flashed him a smile before wandering off to the history section, apparently unaware that she'd just stopped time momentarily with a single expression.

He watched her go before shaking his head and staring back down at the machinery in his hands. She had a smile like a supernova - beautiful and potentially destructive. Not ordinary after all, then, he thought absently, tightening a screw. Perhaps he'd been sensing that power in potentia and that was what had drawn his attention.

That had to be it.

She browsed the store for an hour before slipping out the door with the tinkle of the bell, another smile, and no new books.

James returned to his tinkering with renewed intensity trying to put the blonde out of his head. He'd probably never see her again anyways.

"What's got you all frowny?" Clara asked when she walked into the store fifteen minutes later. Her bag dropped onto the counter with a thunk as she leaned over it to take a look at what James was working on. "Break somethin' you can't fix?"

"None of your business," he answered gruffly.

"Suit yourself, Doctor," she said, rolling her eyes affectionately. She knew he'd spill eventually and it was really no use trying to talk to him when he was determined to be in a bad mood. "Why don't you go back to your office and stop scaring off the customers with that glare of yours."

He just settled into his chair further, prompting another sigh from Clara. She stashed her bag next to his chair and went to go check on the couple of customers milling about.

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For the next week, Blue Box Books operated normally. No overly unusual customers or mishaps to speak of. It was a Tuesday, exactly a week since the blonde had come in, when she walked through the door again.

She doesn't see him, just heads straight to the romance section and starts browsing.

James frowned a bit, having expected her to go back to the science fiction or one of the other sections she'd lingered in last week. He considers going to see if she needs help or possibly shelving the stack of romance novels that he'd found out of order somewhere else in the shop but he doesn't.

She was just another customer and he would treat her that way, he told himself. That meant ignoring her.

He tried to listen to his own advice valiantly as he checked over the inventory on his screen and browsed for books that he wanted to add to the store.

(He tried but he still knew exactly where she was at all time.)

She surprised him when she approached the counter. His head snapped up and he was confronted with that smile again, that beautiful, dangerous smile.

"Hello," she said, closing the distance between her and the desk and laying her chosen book down.

"Find what you were looking for, then?" he blurted out, foregoing the greeting.

"Oh, you're Scottish!" she exclaimed, smile widening further.

"Means I get to complain about things," James said, mouth quirking up just the slightest bit at the corners, and gesticulating with one of his hands. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Um, just didn't imagine you as Scottish," she answered with a shrug.

Her cheeks colored when he raised his eyebrows.

"Not that I've been imagining you," she rushed to assure him. "I just make up stories in my head about people sometimes and I saw you here last week and I just didn't expect…" she groaned and put a hand over her face. "Can I try this again?"

James couldn't help it, he let out a small laugh and was pleased when it drew another smile from his blonde customer. "Please feel free, it's usually me who can't get through a conversation."

"I'm never going to live this down, am I?" she asked.

"Probably not, but I'm sure you'll find something to hold over me eventually, if you dare to come back again."

She leaned forward, breaking the plane of the counter between them. "I think I'll have to dare then."

James had no clue what to make of her smile, of the little bit of tongue peeking out of the corner of it. He'd never been good with reading expressions or intent and this conversation had him at sea but he really, really hoped this woman would be coming back sometime.

"Excellent," he replied. He grabbed the book off the counter and gave it a brief glance. "Like romances, do you? Thought I saw you in the sci-fi section last time."

"The two often overlap," she said. "Plus, I like a bit of variety."

"Good, good. Come to the right store then. Nothing else like it in the city," he boasted.

"I've noticed. The collection here is more eclectic and I love it," she enthused, looking over her shoulder at the room full of shelves and books. "Whoever orders the books has excellent taste."

James glanced at the screen of his laptop that was still open to the books he was considering but didn't say anything. Instead, he scanned the barcode of the book she'd selected, read off the price and concentrated on counting out her change from the twenty pound note she handed him.

"Thanks for stopping in," he said awkwardly, handing over her change and then her purchase. He didn't normally talk much to the customers, even when doing transactions like he was now. He paid Clara to be nice to the people in the store so that he didn't have to, but this was different somehow and he wished he knew the right words to say.

She stuffed the change in her purse and gave him one last smile. "I'll see you later," she said.

Then she was gone and James desperately was trying to convince himself that her words didn't sound like a promise so that he wouldn't get his hopes up.

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Week after week, the blonde would come into the shop on Tuesday afternoons. She browsed the store, sending brilliant smiles his way whenever she caught him looking at her. She started making a habit of coming over to the register to chat with him even when she wasn't buying something.

And she didn't buy books very often. James wasn't entirely sure why she came in every week when she'd only bought two books in a month and a half. His blonde apparently just liked running her fingers over the spines of books, liked seeing all of the possibilities literally at her fingertips.

He still hadn't been able to put his finger on what her favorite type of books were. She visited almost every section in the store and didn't seem to linger in any particular one longer than others. He'd tried to ask her but she just told him again that she liked a variety, liked to read a little bit of everything.

"I know that look," Clara said, breaking him out of his reverie. "You're thinking about that blonde who visits you every Tuesday, again."

"How do you do that?" he demanded. "You're like a mind reader."

"No, you just have tells," she said, plopping down in the chair opposite him in his office. She'd just closed up the shop and come up to talk to her friend.

"Do not."

"You so do, Doctor. Now tell me about your girlfriend."

"Not my girlfriend," he asserted. "She's just a customer."

Clara leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her hair swung forward to frame her face. "You're kidding right? You don't pay attention to the customers unless you're forced to and you're always cheerier on Tuesdays. She means something to you."

James pressed his lips into a thin line, refusing to answer. "We need to go over our book order for next month," he started, trying to change the subject.

"Oh no you don't," Clara said, reaching out to snag his arm when he tried to stand up. "We're not done talking yet. What's the girl's name?"

James looked away from Clara. "I don't know," he admitted.

Clara let go of him in her shock. "She's been in here every week for a month and a half and flirts with you like crazy and you don't know her name?"

"She's not flirting with me. She's just being nice. She's a nice person," he said, gesturing as he started pacing.

"She's definitely flirting. I've seen it," she insisted, sitting back in her chair. "And you flirt back. No, you don't get to deny it," she said, cutting him off as he opened his mouth.

James sat back down heavily. "It doesn't matter," he said.

"How do you not know her name?"

"It's never come up in conversation."

"Then ask for it!"

He shot her a look through his fingers, face buried in his hands.

"Well, at least you can quit acting like she's just another customer when she's obviously not," Clara said with a smile.

"No," he said, pointing at her. "I know that smile, that's you not-good smile. You start planning things when you have that smile."

"Do not," Clara said, schooling her face into a neutral, innocent expression.

"Do so."

"Can't prove anything," she said.

"Do not do anything. I mean it."

Clara drew an x over her heart with her finger. "Still think you should ask her out though."

"Can I get back to talking about books now?"

She made a go-ahead gesture and he started spouting off information about the books he was planning to buy for the next month.

James knew there was no way Clara was going to let him off the hook this easily but he'd take the temporary reprieve anyways.