Wednesdays she always woke with a knot in her stomach before the buzzer of her alarm went off. Clara stepped carefully down the hallway towards a bedroom with a cartoon sticker-clad door inside of which a toddler still slumbered peacefully in her tiny bed, so different from her waking state that Clara always took a moment to appreciate the quiet. The little girl had a head of unruly brown waves, rounded cheeks painted a rosy pink, and a small upturned nose Clara knew was inherited from herself.

Her arms held a bear loosely and Clara knelt beside her, pressing a kiss to her warm forehead before stroking back the hair from her closed eyes to watch her sleep just a bit longer. She felt as though she'd been a baby just a moment ago, and she knew in another moment she'd be a little girl, no longer two and a half and throwing tantrums or rambling excitedly while soiling nappies she refused to move on from. And in another moment she'd be a teenager, and then an adult, and then... who knew?

But for now she was safe, tucked into her bed, dreaming of ponies and castles and rainbow slides, surrounded by stuffed animals who Clara promised would protect her. Clara smiled, palming the side of her head, thumb gently sliding along her left cheek, watching her lips pucker and then stretch, showing off the dimple she loved so much. The one she often wondered if she'd lose one day to another lifetime. On a sigh, she relaxed, and then those eyes, framed with long lashes, opened lazily to look at her.

"Mummy," her daughter whispered, "It's daddy day."

On a nod, she replied softly, "Yes, baby, it's daddy day."

Because it was Wednesday, and he would be arriving to pick his daughter up soon, just as he used to arrive for Clara. To take her on an adventure they would return from at day's end with Clara swallowing her heart, knowing her daughter was safe again. Reminding herself that she agreed to trust the Doctor with their baby girl and he hadn't let her down once in over a year and a half since they parted ways. She looked over the little girl with the bright eyes and the sleepy smile, mind already daydreaming about where they'd go.

Her father's daughter, she thought to herself.

"Well, let's get ready, sweetie," she exclaimed.

Clara wanted to be excited for her daughter's time with the Doctor. She wanted the girl to know him, to grow up knowing him and knowing the universe he traversed while they were on Earth living out a normal Earth life. Though their daughter had one heart, and seemed very human, they had seen her regeneration energy at birth and knew she could outlive Clara by an indeterminate amount of lifetimes. Daddy day, Clara understood very early on, would eventually become every day if the girl chose it.

She watched the child scramble up from her bed, her bear still gripped underneath her arm as she made her way towards her closet, pulling it open to start pointing. She wanted to wear purple tights and a yellow skirt and a long sleeved striped green and blue shirt with a pink zip-up jacket over it and a sparkly red scarf tied securely to her neck and a brown worn cowboy hat. Laughing as the girl dashed around the room, singing songs to her bear, Clara selected the ensemble and she helped her ready herself, listening for the tell-tale sign of the Doctor's arrival, knowing he'd be bounding towards them with equal energy to swing their daughter up into his arms.

"Back by sundown," he offered on a nod, eyes – Clara noticed – avoiding hers.

She took a long breath, looking him over. Not much ever changed; same plaid pants, black hoodie, red-lined jacket, wild eyes, the silver puffs of hair, and an easy smile for the little girl he held. He was tickling his daughter lightly when Clara stepped into him, demanding his attention with a clearing of her throat. Meeting his eyes against the turning of her stomach.

"Sundown, Doctor, not a moment later."

He shrugged, "Time machine, Clara, if we're late, we'll just skip back a mo."

"Skip back a mo," their daughter giggled.

Frowning, she stated, "I don't want her learning rules can so easily be bent."

She watched her little girl's smile drop as the Doctor lowered her to the floor, telling her with a small pat to her bottom, "Go on, Tardis is waiting," and watching her go as he stood. He looked to her then, all amusement draining from his features as he explained, "Clara, I was making a joke – you said it was good to joke with her, to know her father wasn't always grumpy or angry." He pointed, "Your words."

She rubbed at her head, "Sorry, I know, I know you were joking, it's just..." she hesitated.

"You think I teach her to bend rules, because I bend rules, why wouldn't I teach my daughter the same?" He shook his head, "And you don't want her turning out like me. Reckless and a bit insane." He nodded, "I understand."

Clara bit her lip, looking up into his lifting brow and wide eyes – the same look their daughter offered when she knew she'd gotten herself into trouble – and she admitted, "No, I don't want her turning out like you," and then she added, "At least not in those respects."

"You think I do?" He gasped. "I want her safe. I want her loved. I want her kind and caring, and I most definitely want her careful and aware of the rules around her." His shoulders drooped. "I don't want her making the slightest ripple in the universe, knowing it could one day sweep her off her feet."

On a laugh, Clara informed him, "It's impossible not to make ripples, and even waves of varying height, doing what you do, Doctor, you know that..."

"And I know it's why you hate me taking her, in spite of our arrangement," he huffed. "I force you to offer her up everything you rejected to keep her safe and you hate me for doing it. Even though I've promised not to take her in harm's way, you believe I do."

"I know you do; I hear her stories!" She shouted. "She's run from monsters, and you're not around to stop her nightmares, or listen to her crying out for her father to save her."

"And why is that, Clara?" He grunted. "Why am I not around?" He demanded before bellowing, "You sent me away!"

Pointing, she responded, "I gave you a choice and you chose this."

"Of course I chose this! It was this or losing you both forever! I never wanted to lose either of you and now I have to be content with half of my..." he trailed, turning away.

Her face had gone red and hot and she could see his shoulders had gone high and tense, so she turned away as well. Clara looked to the girl's room, filled with dolls and dinosaurs and fake flowers in a rainbow of colors splashed over her desk and bed and dresser, spilling out of two toy boxes meant to contain the chaos. She closed her eyes and then wiped at the tears that rolled cool over her cheeks and she sniffled, hearing the slight rustle of his clothes as he shifted to look at her.

"She's like you," Clara told him. "She's everything good about you."

"She's everything you loved about me," he corrected.

Turning, she agreed with a nod and a quiet, "Everything I still love about you."

Shrugging, the Doctor raised a hand to tell her, "Funnily enough, she's everything good about you when she's with me – she's the one who stops me from getting into trouble, says mummy would be mad."

Clara laughed lightly, bowing her head.

"She's everything I still love about you."

Looking up at him, she furrowed her brow, shaking her head to ask, "How did we get here?"

"You know the answer to that, Clara," he replied swiftly.

Nodding, she swallowed roughly, because she did know. It was her ultimatum, made after a series of harrowing adventures in their daughter's first year of life. It was her shouting as their little girl cried from within her crib, tiny body aching from the grip of some thing that had tried to take her as its own. It had been Clara who had declared, "No, Doctor, this can't be her life; this can't be our life."

"What are you saying, Clara?"

"You can't be in our lives on your terms; it has to be on mine."

They stared at one another now, feeling as though that day had been an eternity ago and yet the sadness of it was still there, wounding their hearts. She supposed it would always, no matter what happened with their daughter, and she could see in the Doctor's eyes how it pained him as well. But he would never choose an Earthly life with them and she wouldn't ask him again, nor would she risk her daughter to live entirely aboard the Tardis in which she'd been conceived, but she couldn't strip the girl of that life entirely – it was in her blood.

Pointing with an open palm, Clara told him hoarsely, "You should go see what she's up to, you know how she loves pressing buttons and making loud noises."

He nodded, "She knows Tardis buttons are dangerous and only her daddy should handle them."

Sniffling, Clara nodded, "Go, have your adventure."

"Come with us," the Doctor asked her, almost on a whisper.

"Nah," she breathed, "This is your time."

Locking eyes, they exchanged the slightest of nods and the Doctor repeated firmly, "Back by sundown."

She watched him slowly turn and stride out from the room, head dropping as his shoulders slumped. Clara knew he would pick himself up, just before entering the Tardis. She knew he would laugh with their daughter and take her somewhere exciting. And she knew she couldn't go with them because she knew she would get caught up in it all again and her and her daughter's lives would be in danger all of the time, instead of maybe just once a week. It wasn't an easy agreement, but it was the one they'd come to.

Clara listened to the Tardis door creek open and she heard his exclamation of excitement just before the wood slammed closed and the brakes screeched as they departed, whispering, "Sundown, Doctor, not a moment later."