AN: Well, nice to see you all again! I thought it was about time I got back into writing again and this idea has been with me FOREVER. I finally managed to get it out and now I've been looking forward to publishing it. It's my first TwelveClara multi-chap fic, and I hope it lives up to the standards of everyone else's amazing writing. I hope this alleviates all the TwelveClara pain now our favourites aren't together on our screens. Please let me know your thoughts in the reviews. Enjoy! Ax

Chapter One

Clara was on the 7:37am rush hour train to London when she noticed him.

He looked grumpy and tired as he squeezed past other commuters and into the seat opposite her. He was wearing a deep maroon shirt, buttoned up to his neck, and a thick navy trench coat with a delicious red lining. He shuffled about a bit in his seat, sighed and then ran his hand through his fluffy grey curls, making them stick up at a funny angle, which made Clara smile ever so slightly. Out of his satchel he pulled a battered old book with bent corners, a creased spine and yellowing pages. Clara tilted her head slightly to read the front - Pride and Prejudice. Interesting. The man slid horn-rimmed glasses on to his face and Clara noticed how defined his features were - a strong jawline, deep expressive eyebrows, soft creases around his eyes. There was something compelling about him that Clara just couldn't put her finger on.

Then the man's eyes snapped up from his book and met hers. Clara felt her heart jump in her chest as his steely blue-grey eyes almost stripped her bare with one gaze. His mouth twitched into an almost grin, his big, expressive eyebrows twitched almost flirtily, and then his eyes went back to his novel. Clara felt her face flush and she quickly looked back at her own book, wondering why this stranger was having such an effect on her.

She felt like she wanted to know him. She wanted to know why he picked Pride and Prejudice. She wanted to know what caused those deep lines on his forehead. She wanted to know what his hair felt like in her fingers.

Clara spent the rest of the journey stealing glances at the man opposite her; admiring his long fingers wrapped around the pages of his book and the tendons in his neck which disappeared under his collar. He was older, certainly, but he was one of the few who had clearly aged with grace. As part of her desperately tried to think of a way to say hello, the other part of her was accepting the fact she probably would never see this man again.

As her final stop drew near, she sighed and took the cowards way out. She took one last glance at this mysterious man before gathering her things and shuffling awkwardly out of her seat and towards the doors of the train with the other commuters.

As she emerged into the London air, her mind must have still been with the stranger on the train, as she got caught up with the bustle of impatient commuters and ended up dropping her book and half the contents of her bag on the pavement. As she crouched in the street, stuffing make-up and coins and used receipts back into her bag, a pair of hands swooped down beside her and scooped up her book. Clara looked up quickly to see the man from the train standing beside her, gripping her Charles Dickens novel.

"Great Expectations." he said in a soft Scottish drawl, his thumb grazing the worn pages. "One of Charlie's best."

Clara smiled a little at his comment, desperately trying to ease the flutter in her stomach. The way the words rolled off his tongue in that accent was divine.

"I think so too," she said, way more confidently than she felt.

Then suddenly he was holding a hand out to her. It took Clara a few seconds to realise he was offering to help her up but when she finally wrapped her fingers around his hand she felt the crackle of electricity. Once she was upright and standing face to face with him, she realised how tall he was. Her head only came up to the base of his throat and she had to tilt her neck to look at him. Despite their coolness in colour, Clara could see a hint of warm affection hidden in his eyes. He smiled and handed her book back.

"Thank you." It was all she could say as all other words seemed to get stuck in her throat.

He nodded and then went to turn in the opposite direction but Clara quickly found her voice. She couldn't feel like this about a complete stranger and just let him walk off. She didn't know if she believed in fate or luck or God, but she didn't think it was a coincidence that he had stopped to help her. She believed there was something drawing him to her and that couldn't be ignored.

"Pride and Prejudice," she said quickly, loud enough for him to hear.

The man turned round again and Clara saw the flash of red under his coat.

"Pardon?"

Clara took a tiny step towards him. "Your book, on the train. Why Pride and Prejudice?"

He smiled a small smile and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Let's just say I can relate to Mr Darcy,"

Clara felt her courage suddenly grow. "I always had a soft spot for Mr Darcy," she said, feeling her cheeks flush as the words left her mouth.

He smiled slightly and looked at her intensely, as if trying to work out if she was really flirting with him or not. She definitely was.

After a small silence, Clara was suddenly aware that he probably had places to be.

"I won't hold you up any longer," she said, waving slightly as she began to move in the opposite direction, already beginning to berate herself for acting a fool.

"Same train tomorrow?"

This time it was her turn to spin round. "Pardon?"

"Will you get the same train tomorrow?" he asked, looking down at his shoes, like shyness had suddenly overcome him.

"I will," Clara said, trying to contain her grin.

"Ok. Good. Well, I suppose I'll see you then."


AN: More soon! Please review!