A/N: Hello again! I find myself still pondering Clara and the amazing character she was during her time with the Doctor. And I found myself writing down certain points of her story and what I thought she might have been thinking during the more memorable times. And then I started thinking about all the in between moments. And then I thought "What was she thinking the moment they met? Really truly met, face to face?" And so, as a sort of experiment, this little snippet came to life. And if you people like the idea and where it's heading, perhaps I'll continue. This is the first time the Doctor encounters Clara's echo face to face. I had fun imagining it, so I hope you enjoy reading it! And if you'd like me to continue, let me know!

More mugs, more cups, more plates. I scooped the last few off the table and set them on my tray, pausing to scan around the pub for more. Not finding any, I slipped through the crowded room toward the back of the place. I had to dodge around a bit, there were quite a few drunker-than-usual patrons about. It was almost Christmas Eve, after all. Better get on with the celebrations early.

I managed to get to the back door without too much trouble, and I was greeted with a blast of winter air when I opened it. Oh how I hate the cold, I thought with a surge of irritation. And this snow is getting out of hand and… Wait.

I glanced back up at the alley with a frown. Had that snowman always been there? I didn't remember seeing it earlier… And did it have teeth? What kind of person made a snowman with sharp, dagger-like teeth?

I was still staring at the monstrosity when I heard the crunch of footsteps approaching from down the alley. Normally I would retreat back into the pub, but I was too captivated by the creation in front of me.

Whoever was approaching didn't offer me any kind of greeting, and since he was the only one about, there was only one explanation for the snowy beast. "Did you build this snowman?" I asked him as he made to walk by me. Though he kept his head ducked and his eyes on the ground at his feet, he towered at least a foot over me.

"No." He didn't stop.

"Well who did?" I asked. I looked up at him, and he slowed to a stop just before turning the corner. "Because it wasn't there a second ago, it just appeared. From nowhere."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I realized how absurd it sounded. A snowman that built itself from nothing? I'd be lucky if this man didn't call a doctor for me.

If he had any such thoughts, he hid them well. In fact, instead of turning and accusing me mad, he actually looked quite curious. He came back the way he'd come, fishing a pair of round spectacles out of his pocket. Offering me a slightly skeptical look, he circled around the snowman for a moment, looking it up and down with keen green eyes. He pinched a bit of the snow between his middle finger and thumb.

"Maybe its snow that fell before," he said thoughtfully, eyeing the ice crystals as they fell through his fingers. "Maybe it remembers how to make snowmen."

I grinned at him, amused. "What, snow that can remember? That's silly." But I liked it.

He glanced over at me. "What's wrong with silly?"

"Nothin," I assured him. "Still talkin to you, ain't I?"

He looked at me for a split second like he was surprised. When I smiled a bit more, he finally grinned back. "What's your name?" he asked, slipping the glasses off his nose.

"Clara," I said.

His smile grew, but his eyes seemed sad. "Nice name," he said. "Clara." And to my surprise, he began to stride away on those long legs without looking back at me. "You should definitely keep it. Goodbye!" He vanished around the corner.

Wait, was that it? Feeling cheated and a little miffed, I followed. "Oi!" I called down the street after him. He didn't slow. "Where you going? I thought we was just getting acquainted!" Did he have no manners? I'd given him my name, he at least had to have the decency to give me his!

The man stopped, turned around to look at me. I waited, but all he did was smile sadly and mutter "Those were the days," almost too quiet for me to hear. I frowned at him, confused, but he turned and walked away again. It was quite obvious he didn't want me to follow.

So, even though I instantly wanted to go after him again and demand he be a gentleman, I retreated back down the alley toward the bar. What a curious sort of fellow. He was so young, no older than me, but there was something about his eyes. They were so old, so sad. Like he'd seen things and done things he'd rather not remember. I pondered those eyes, slowing to a stop before I reached the back door. Why was he so sad, I wondered.

I heard the faint crack of a whip, the plopping of hooves on the cobblestoned street. Thinking fast and knowing I was being reckless and maybe a little stupid, I backed up until I reached the corner again. I watched the carriage roll past the alley with the sad, silly man in it. I felt my curiosity flare, almost unbearably.

Oh, to hell with it.

I hiked up my skirts and took off down the street after the sad man's carriage. It had a bit of a head start on me, but I managed to catch up after only a few moments. I'm sure any passerby who saw me jump onto the back and climb up to the roof were certain I was a crazed lunatic, but I couldn't make myself care. Let them think what they wished.

I'd just heard the sad man say something about "the name Doctor" when I pulled the door on the top of the carriage open with a crash.

"Doctor?" I repeated, dropping my head and shoulders down through the opening. I took immense satisfaction in the look of shock on his face, even though I was upside down. "Doctor who?"

Continue? Don't continue? Let me know!