Notes: Spoilers for "The Name of the Doctor" and "The Doctor's Wife".
A certain young Time Lady helps the TARDIS and her Thief. Inspired by that scene in TNotD with Clara and One.
This is meant as a one-shot, though I'm pondering a series of TimeLady! Clara. Nods to Classic Who in this story. Who is TimeLady! Clara's aunt? And the ability to see the Time Lines is canon. The Eight Doctor had this skill.
Don't own Doctor Who, don't sue. DW is owned by the BBC.
Episode dialogue is in bold.
No, no, no...stop him! Stop him before he gets away!
Clara moved silently among the columns, counting each one. She heard the strange inner prompting within her mind, heard the panic within the words. She sent a mental reassurance to it.
I'm going as fast as I can. They already know that he's down here with Susan. I'll talk to him.
You are being too slow! At this rate, he will pick another, not me!
Clara barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Her mentors in the Academy had marveled at the sensitivity of her Time Lady senses. Not many possessed her ability to such a degree. She could see the timelines, divine them, and influence them, if she wanted. Of course, it was typical of the Time Lords to hone her ability, then forbid her from using it, unless it benefited Galifrey, of course.
She snorted in derision. Idiots, all of them.
Claradvoratrelundar!
She winced at the mental shout. No one ever called her by her whole name, except for her aunt, one of the most influential in House of Heartshaven. Her aunt had given her part of her own name, more in expectation than anything else. After all, she had graduated with a triple first from the Time Lord Academy. Clara shared the same genes; why couldn't she do the same?
Clara felt another frustrated shout building through the mental link. She yelled back, I'm almost there, you grumpy cow!
The voice settled into an angry grumble, but said nothing else. Clara wondered, What in Rassilon's name is a cow?! Before she could ruminate over the strange thought, she saw him.
His granddaughter had already disappeared into one of the columns. The wrong column.
The wrong TT capsule. Clara shook her head as she remembered Susan's nickname for these vehicles. TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space. Susan was always so smart, the smartest in their Academy class. It wouldn't have surprised Clara if that nickname caught on among the younger generation of Time Lords and Ladies.
Clara stood in front of the next column and called out, "Doctor."
The elderly man frowned and looked over at her. "Yes? What is it? What do you want?"
She took a deep breath and said, "Sorry, but you're about to make a big mistake."
He stared at her in amazement at her bold words. Clara didn't have to divine his thoughts; they were written all over his face. Even at his advanced age, she could read him like an open book. She gazed back at him and saw his timelines shift all around him. A blue light surrounded him, a cool azure glow punctuated by the occasional flash of lightning. Cool and composed on the outside, but fiery on the inside. It was this fire that prompted him to steal a TARDIS and travel the universe.
Then a corresponding blue glow formed around the column next to Clara. She felt an odd yearning in the back of her mind, an almost desperate need. Of course, a TARDIS and its pilots were intimately linked together. If its Time Lord (or Time Lady) died, their TARDIS would simply pine away, simply die.
You're a Type 40. You're practically a museum piece. Your navigation system's all wonky and you aren't reliable. But you choose him?
The other presence in her mind bristled at the perceived insults. Clara sighed again and studied the link between the Doctor and this Type 40. It hummed with suppressed power; the timelines around it caressed it, solidified around it. This was right. This was meant to be.
Very well. I hope you know what you're doing. Take care of him, will you?
The Type 40 rumbled in her mind. Clara stifled another smile; she was sure that this particular TARDIS wouldn't forget those 'insults', even if they were true. Clara had the distinct feeling this ship would still dislike her, no matter how many regenerations she would go through as a Time Lady.
All this passed in a matter of seconds. The Doctor still glared at her, so she leaned against the old Type 40. It was still disguised as a column, of course.
"Don't steal that one. Steal this one." Despite herself, she couldn't help get a final dig in, and commented on the Type 40's navigation system.
The Doctor seemed to consider it, then called his granddaughter outside. They hurried into the Type 40, as Clara quickly walked away from them. After all, the Time Lords were already alerted to the commotion. They'd wonder why someone would steal an old TARDIS, but let them wonder.
The mental connection faded as she left the room, but she smiled at the soft whispers in her mind, and the shifting that told her that timelines were in their correct places once more. And somehow, she knew she would see the Doctor—and that grumpy Type 40—again.
Hello, my Thief.
You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.