THE NEXT DOCTOR

Clara blinked trying not to panic, so the Doctor had a new face and apparently didn't remember how to operate the one constant in his life... and to be honest the less said about him taking umbrage with his kidneys the better. But he was staring at her with those mad slate blue eyes from beneath those insane eyebrows expectantly, he was never expectant, maybe hopeful of humans but expectant was definitely new. The tears and the grief were still fresh on her face for his last self, for 'her' Doctor, but she had to blink them away and bury it for now, because like he said, they were crashing if they lived then she'd mourn him.

Clara stepped forwards, she had lifetimes of memories, some of them were even Timelord ones if she concentrated she could get glimpses, added to that the little trip into the vortex to the pocket Universe that the TARDIS herself had taught her to navigate in a bid to rescue their man; or the lessons the Doctor had give her even if it was only in 'basic' mode, she could do this... why the hell not? If nothing else she could stabilise it, she knew where the blue boringers were, but pushing away the last Doctor was harder when she was actively remembering him telling her in disgust what they did, apparently anything with the word stabiliser in it was an affront to him, or 'had' been.

The levers moved easily in her hands as she tried to correct the mad spin and prevent them crashing, for the most part the TARDIS was actually cooperating with her; she'd even go so far to say as it was being 'helpful'. Clearly the idea of a memory-less Doctor crashing her on his first outing wasn't exactly the laugh a minute riot it sounded like it was going to be.

The bong of the TARDIS landing bought her breath out in a whoosh of relief; she turned to face the Doctor her smile triumphant, but his dark intense expression only inches from her face wiped the smile right off it and she felt a chill sweep through her, he looked smug.

"So." His smile was thin and without the laughter it used to incite, "You seem like a good lass to have in a crisis. Cool head, knows how to operate heavy machinery." He stepped closer and most deliberately sniffed her. "Oh yes this will do nicely. New Doctor and a new first face for this face to see, but I do think you should have kept the nose." His brash Scottish accent seemed to amuse him as he rolled his new tones with clear satisfaction, no doubt a lingering reminder of his Amelia.

Clara blinked instinctively touching her nose. "What's wrong with my nose, it's the same one I've always had."

He smiled ruefully, "He'd thought that nose was cute. Shame really, but that's life I suppose, people up and change the things you liked about them on you. Just. Like. That." His pronounced, slow words were accentuated by the harsh click of his fingers in front of her face as he stared hard, clearly making some sort of point that was currently eluding her still grief addled mind.

Clara got the distinct impression he was messing with her... just not in the fun childish way his predecessor would have done it, there was something far more pointed about his goading that slid just that bit deeper beneath your skin, right to where it hurt. "My nose is fine. You're the one who changed remember. You and your kidneys."

His head cocked sideways slightly as he examined her, the barest flicker of a smile tracing his lips as she tried to absorb his face, to see the man she knew in the new man before her. But it was so hard, his large childish movements that were as achingly familiar to her as her own were no strange, smooth, there was something almost reptilian about this version. Something none of the others had had, not even his 7th face, her least favourite if memory served her. But his face reflected his age this time, older, but somehow sprier, she got the impression he saw more.

"Can't say I care for the eyebrows this time round... Doctor." It actually pained her to use that title, to call him that, but this was the way of it, his way, the Timelord way. She should just be grateful a part of him was living on at all. It could just so easily have gone the other way, she could be standing there in the snow on Christmas cradling his truly dead, ancient form, waiting for the Dalek's to strike her down beside him.

The Doctor raised his hands and ran them swiftly over his face, smirking a little when he came to the aforementioned eyebrows. "Yes, something of a feature aren't they. Less of a chin, and for once the ears seem in proportion. Could have done worse. Although deep lines, some wear and tear," he bent, "the knees could be sprier, and I will have to do something about those kidneys." He held his hands out observing them. "Clever hands though. Always handy." He smirked at his own joke that fell flat on her as she tried to hold onto the idea that this... all of this was ok, it was a good thing, after all it just meant he was alive.

"A joke... is that who I am, a joker with clever hands and interesting kidneys." He raised those substantial eyebrows at her as if in question. "You didn't laugh though." He pointed out and Clara tried not to hear the accusation in it, more than anything she was finding it was impossible to bury the soul crushing despair the image of him stretching his hand out to her, bathed in light, before he was just gone, was having on her frame of mind.

"You used to be funny." She muttered. Apparently neither of them missed her use of the past tense.

His eyes narrowed. "Such a sad, curious girl with a nose that used to be cute."

Clara frowned staring hard at him. "Doctor. What's my name?" something leaden was sinking into the pit of her stomach as she grew more certain he wouldn't be able to answer.

He sighed. "Honestly dear girl, what on earth am I supposed to do with you if you don't even know your own name." He paused leaning in closer. "You used to know mine though, didn't you. The name they gave me at birth, did you give it to the Timelords, did you whisper it through the crack, is that why they gave me this new set of lives?"

Clara froze as he stalked around her, his hand slid onto her shoulder and his clever fingers gripped just that fraction too tightly. Of course he'd ask, of course he'd know she'd interfered. "You were going to die. What was I supposed to do, sit there and watch it happen, let the town you'd spent the last 600 years defending go up in Dalek smoke?"

The fingers bit down harder and she tried not to wince as he came to stand in front of her, he was shorter now, she could look him in the eye without standing on her tiptoes and giving herself neck ache. "Not the question I asked, and have you shrunk?" he paused leaning back as if to look at her again, muttering something under his breath that she couldn't quite catch.

"I told them you were the Doctor, that was the only name that should matter and that they should save you." Exasperation crept into her voice, "And no, of course I've not shrunk. I've not changed, it's you that's shorter... and angrier." She bit out, prising his fingers off her shoulder and massaging it with her own trying not to let the obvious discomfort show on her face as she realised he'd probably have left bruises.

"Hmm." He absorbed that. "Clever, angry hands." He gave them a glance and then let his eyes rest briefly on her shoulder as if he could see the damage they'd done.

"What's my name?" She insisted and he rolled his eyes.

"It doesn't matter." He strode around the console, nudging buttons and at least starting to look like he remembered something of what he was doing there. Clara tried not to flinch at his tone, or his words.

"Of course it matters." She tried not to let tears form, but she found herself blinking them away as she followed after him.

The Doctor had his eyes on the TARDIS console. "Yes well I suppose it matters to you." He turned giving her another once over, "Besides that was what 'he' called you. I'm not him, even though he's me." He rubbed his temples briefly and Clara felt a flash of concern, this regeneration had been difficult the other Doctor had said so, said it was taking longer. She lifted her hand hesitating as it hovered over his arm, she desperately wanted to comfort him and so herself, to find something of the previous him in this new one, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it.

"Then what will you call me?" she offered, knowing that she was giving him something, something new, something that was hers, hoping that whatever sort of man he was this time round he'd see that she was trying to be kind.

He raised his head and his hand shot out grasping her hovering one. She was surprised at the softness to it, she'd expected fingers capable of such strength would be rougher somehow. But he was delicate now as they traced the skin on her hand and down ghosting over her wrist until he could feel her pulse hammering away beneath. "You'll be my Oswin." He promised and she felt her breath hitch at the intensity in his eyes, at the reflexive tightening of his fingers around her wrist as he used it to draw her in closer. So he had remembered something of her then.

"Oswin is a ghost." She whispered, horrified and oddly relieved that she wouldn't have to hear the words 'my Clara' uttered from this versions mouth.

"Aren't we all my dear?" he drew her in closer by that entrapped wrist and Clara dared not breath, not wanting to know if he'd still smell the same. Moments passed as they shared breath, his eyes seeming to stare straight into her very soul as she wondered just how much of his had survived intact.

"You should change." She broke eye contact, fixing them on a point at his chest instead, feeling his other hand come to rest lightly against her spine, a gentle brush that was at odds with the intensity she felt emanating from him. "The Victorian get up doesn't suit you." She indicated his clothing attempting to gently extract herself only to find that she'd inexplicably wound up closer, their chests almost touching as she finally lifted her eyes back to his.

"You my dear Oswin, I will definitely be keeping." His lips brushed the corner of her mouth as he placed a kiss there in a soft, possessive gesture that made her knees weaken a fraction and her breath tremble. Gone was the foppish child she'd so adored, in his place was this cold angry man who's grip was like steel, until he used it to brush her skin.

"Your trembling, don't tell me your actually afraid of little old me?" his breath ghosted over her ear causing a shiver to snake down her spine as she kept her eyes fixed on him, uncertain what he would do if she dared to close them.

"Terrified." She admitted, hating that he'd reduced her voice to a mere whisper, his splayed fingers against her back pressed and drew her closer until their chests collided and she could feel the solid staccato rhythm of his dual heart beat. Strong and steady. She lifted her hands, quite deliberately removing his as she stepped away from him. "And I haven't decided if I'll be keeping you yet anyway."

His face was inscrutable before he let out a soft chortle of amusement at her presumption, like it would be beyond a human to reject him. She prayed she wouldn't have to.

"You are quite right though, a dead man's clothes will never do." He muttered coldly the jibe clearly for her and she felt it solidly impact her heart which gave a painful twits and fresh tears blossomed. He didn't watch to see his barb land, merely turned away from her and giving her the distinct impression that she was being dismissed as he walked away, heading into the depths of the TARDIS.

Clara turned to watch the slow up and down of the TARDIS matrix, her hand went out almost instinctively to the energy she knew was coiled within. "I think we might be in trouble here old girl." She sighed dropping her head and watching a lever move all of its own accord, the parking break clicking into place indicating that they wouldn't be going anywhere for some time. The tingle of telepathic circuitry brushed her mind and urged her to follow the Doctor, the overwhelming sense of unease a twin to her own, but there was already a love there from the Blue Box for this man, whatever guise he was in and she felt it lash her soundly. The old cow's bark was about as bad as her bite because Clara stumbled back, her hand to her head, trying to shake the feeling that she'd been scolded like a child. This was the Doctor it said. Grow up and do what you promised you always would... save him.

Terrific. The the old cow was on his side as always, even if his side was definitely of a darker shade this time round, which meant she was definitely in trouble.

"I should have let him crash you." She muttered; giving the console a disgusted look as she stalked away her hands wrapped tightly around her midsection as if that would give her protection.

Problem was being stuck on a sentient ship that she'd landed on some alien world left her with few options, she might not want to follow the Doctor, but if the TARDIS got ugly, then she didn't particularly want to be stranded either. She shoved her hand into her pocket and retrieved the bow tie she'd rescued and stashed in there, she bought it to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to it, but no tears fell, now wasn't the time. 'Help me Chin Boy, because he really isn't you'.

Clara found the Doctor in the wardrobe, it was amazing how simple a feat it was to wander the corridors when it seemed the old cow wanted her to reach a destination. Rooms and corridors rearranging around her so that it was a few simple steps in any given direction.

The Doctor's disembodied voice floated over to her as she ascended the spiral staircase followed by a few choice words she hadn't heard him choose to use before as he cussed with gusto and remarked about his apparent colour blindedness in several previous regenerations, before emerging 'thankfully' fully dressed this time. He had twinned what looked like perfectly normal black suit trousers with a white dress shirt which he'd clearly left deliberately unbuttoned at the neck as he began buttoning up a deep dark red leather waistcoat.

"Be a good girl Oswin and find me a coat in that mess would you." Clara paused a fraction of a second wondering if it was worth arguing about and deciding picking what he wore wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she ducked beneath one of the rails about to submerge herself in the endless mass of fabrics when he caught her wrist holding her firm. "If you emerge with something that reminds me of Joseph and his technicolour monstrosity I won't be pleased." His eyes were hard, if he was joking she couldn't tell so she snatched back her wrist giving him a dark smile before ducking inside. "And nothing with a question mark on it for God's sake!" he bellowed.

Clara sighed, "Yes, yes. I got it." She couldn't decide if he was trying to include her in forging the identity of this new him; manipulate her into thinking that was what he was trying to do; or if he was just genuinely too bloody lazy to do it his damn self. Clara's fingers ran over the multitude of colours and materials on offer, wondering what exactly this Doctor would accept, how would he want to be seen?

Clara emerged with the offending item draped over her arm, he stood hand out expectantly as she tossed it to him. The Doctor lifted it up in front of him, turning it back and forth before shrugging it on and stalking over to the full length mirror. He stood his chest out, twisting lightly taking this new him in. The coat had a hint of old world military officer to it, tailored to his slighter frame and falling to his knee, a grey-black cord material with deep wide black lapels and cuffs and grandiose embroidered button holes that he chose not to do up. His eyes caught on her from within the glass.

"Thank you Owsin, this will do very nicely." Clara nodded, thinking he was probably right, he looked like someone who should be taken seriously at the very least.

"Dashing don't you think?" he quirked one of his large eyebrows at her and she couldn't help but give him a small smile.

The TARDIS gave a shudder and a bell echoed through the corridors ominously. The Doctor stared up at it. "Well you heard the Lady. Time to take a walk, stretch these new legs, she wants to perform her own regeneration and we wouldn't want to be inside for that."

"You remember about the TARDIS now?" she couldn't keep the relief from her voice at the thought.

"Never really forgot, just temporarily misplaced in the reshuffle, they came back almost immediately after I saw you take her in hand." Clara felt her mouth open in surprise and mild disgust, "Oh don't look so scandalised my dear, I doubt you have ever awoken in a new body with your memories somewhat scrambled wondering if that pretty young thing in front of you is friend or foe? I assure you, it is an unpleasant situation." He straightened his jacket and played with the overlarge cuffs, pulling his shirt sleeves out and popping his sonic into an inside pocket. "Besides allowing you to continue to pilot the ship once I had regained my senses was merely a wonderful opportunity to get the measure of you, see exactly what you would do with an incapacitated Timelord and an out of control TARDIS." He patted her head and the flinch she tried to hide was all too evident. "You did marvellously my dear."

"And if I hadn't?" she pressed, catching the flecks of silver in his blue eyes as he came to stand that little too close again and confirming her suspicions about his Machiavellian manipulations. She was cross, thoroughly so, but then she supposed if she put herself in his shoes, waking up new man, not quite the same thoughts, memories a bit scrambled, maybe she'd be cagey too.

"Oh I'd have done what I always do," his smile was thin, no teeth. "I'd have traded you in for a newer model." He wasn't joking, of that she was certain, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd abandoned her today either... even if today had taken about 600 years for him.

"Charming." Clara smiled back just as falsely biting out the word and refraining from saying anything else for now, his promises about keeping her at least seemed to make a little more sense to her now.

"I am aren't I?" he exclaimed, running a hand through his silver dusting of close cropped hair and giving himself a twirl in the mirror. "Maybe that's who I am this regeneration, an old charmer."

Clara smirked, "Lets add narcissistic and completely immune to sarcasm to that list." He stared back at her through the mirror, his smirk growing until it matched hers.

"Oh come now my dear. I'm sure there will be lots of things to find out about this new me, I'm sure some of them will meet with your approval." His tone was light but he didn't seem to be able to lose the threatening undertone it carried, or the way his eyes seemed to track like a predator stalking its prey. He turned slowly and she felt the overwhelming urge to run, she squashed it, crossing her arms across her chest and forcing herself to hold her ground.

"I'll let you know." She replied, wanting it to sound snarky, instead it sounded almost as tired as she felt. She'd just lost her best friend and a man she was more than a little bit in love with only to have him replaced with an older, snarkier version, who was forcing her to prove herself to him. She thought she was owed a little downtime, but if she suggested he drop her off home now she highly doubted he'd come back like 'her' Doctor would have.

He paused extending his hand to her, "Well then Oswin shall we see where you landed us?" Clara glanced once at his hand but couldn't quite bring herself to trust him enough to take it yet. He looked momentarily irritated before he shrugged dropping his hand and stalking ahead of her through the corridors. "We'll need to use the emergency exit for the time being, the TARDIS has already locked off the control room." He sighed, "Damn her, never can wait more than five minutes before fixing her face too."

The emergency exit looked exactly like it sounded... a chute. "Yes well, I imagine it would look rather different if we were in space, probably more like a pod, but as we are on a planet." He trailed off indicating she was to get in, Clara rolled her eyes, not bothering to ask why he wasn't going first as she sat down and pushed off, trying not to grin despite herself as the chute twisted and turned like a rollercoaster, until that was she shot out into bright sunlight and found herself rolling end on end in the dusty ground. The Doctor landed with more grace than she'd managed, jumping to his feet quickly whilst she was left briskly dusting herself off as she got slowly to her feet, surprised to find they were in some sort of arid desert, which she supposed explained the dirt.

The Doctor stood turning on the spot and giving the air a sniff, his sharp eyes focussing on one point for a fraction of a second before darting off to another until she was certain he'd clocked every inch of the space around them. At least that was behaviour she recognised and she found it mildly comforting to know he would still be hyper aware of everything around them. He rolled his jaw as if chewing the air and gave her a pointed look.

"Care to make a guess my dear Oswin?" she couldn't tell if the end of that sentence was laced with sarcasm or just his new way of speaking.

Clara turned glancing up at the sky, humouring him. There was one sun and a whole host of planets in the sky or maybe they were moons, she sighed. "No idea Doctor, I assume somewhere deadly given the Old Cows desire to make my life a misery."

The Doctor glanced between her and the TARDIS, "She does seem to have a particularly vindictive side that she's chosen to share with you and you alone. Perhaps you should feel honoured Oswin, the TARDIS considers most of my companions far too beneath her to bother tormenting."

Clara turned and gave him a glare trying not to let his words sink in too deep, maybe there was a deeper affection to the TARDIS' particular distaste for her, but she wasn't going to shake it off as purely spiteful just yet. "You're really going to keep calling me that?" she pressed, surprised he hadn't gotten bored of his latest little idiosyncrasy already.

He merely gave her a smile that told her to carry on believing what she would in that silly limited human way of hers. "You did give me the choice." He reminded her and she had to concede that in a moment of weakness she'd thought it would help them to bond if she offered up something. If she'd realised he was quite so... whatever this was, she probably would have waited a while before making such ill thought through gestures. But in a strange way it was oddly fitting that this new Doctor would choose to see her in a different way... to expect something different of her. That he would refuse to retrace old ground, even if it was something as simple as her name.

"And incidentally we are on Pyrovilia." He glanced around looking a little uneasy. "I've met the Pyroviles before, they were trying to use Vesuvius to convert the human population into rock creatures like themselves in an attempt to restore their home planet, which had been ... misplaced."

Clara gave him a look. "Please tell me you didn't misplace this planet?"

"Not me." He looked affronted. "I returned it; it was the Daleks that stole it. Although a slightly cockier version of me did destroy Pompeii when he detonated Vesuvius."

Clara tried to decipher if he was being serious or not and decided he was probably just trying to wind her up again so she remained silent staring around at the suddenly more ominous looking rocks. Tall tales aside, she was fairly certain he wasn't wrong about the planet, it looked the type of place that only some sort of rock-like creatures would evolve on.

"I remember you having more spunk than this." The Doctor told her sounding somewhat amused; although why that would amuse him she had no clue.

"I remember a few hours ago when you still called me Clara and you'd spent the last 600 years defending the people of a town called Christmas because it was the right thing to do. Now look at you, bragging about decimating Pompeii." Ok so it was spiteful but she was still spinning from the last few hours, technically it was still Christmas day for her, so far it had turned out to be a fairly crap one. She'd had no Turkey whatsoever despite it finally being cooked, she'd survived a battle that had nearly erupted into a war that would envelop the Universe, her invented boyfriend had turned up for Christmas dinner naked, died and turned into someone she really didn't know and wasn't so sure she wanted to.

The Doctor clapped his hands together startling her as he let out a triumphant shout, "Ah there it is; that fire!" He strode to her and enveloped her in a hug that was decidedly uncomfortable, only furthering her feeling that this really wasn't the same man at all; even his hugs were wrong. Too cold, to wiry, too... something that just wasn't 'him'. Clearly he didn't like the fact that she wasn't hugging back, maybe the rejection twice now in as many minutes from her stung because he lashed out with his words. "Do try to keep hold of that fire Oswin, wouldn't want you becoming a bore now would we." He clapped her soundly on the back and strode off into the dust. Apparently a cutting remark and striding off into the distance were also his thing now.

But there was one thing that she knew for certain now as she strode determinedly after him, something the TARDIS had tried to remind her in her own bitchy way; she'd been born to save the Doctor, she'd thought that was over, that she'd given enough lives to the task, seen all the faces of his that needed her help. Apparently the Universe had other plans, a whole new set of regenerations, a new set of Doctors and if this one was anything to go by, then he definitely still needed saving.