A/N: I've been requested on tumblr to write a whouffle AU for quite a while now, so here it is. It's quite different to what I usually write so if you don't like it, please don't write hate in the reviews, thanks :)

However, if you do like, review/follow/favourite! Just wondering is this is worth continuing, probably go on for a few parts if I get good feedback.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

Chapter One

"We can be geniuses together!"

Clara Oswald had never been scared of change. She'd always known that change just came hand-in-hand with everyday life; something that just happened that she could never hope to control. However, that did not ever mean that she liked change.

In fact, she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand the pain and the misery that change could cause- and she also couldn't stand the fact that whenever change occurred, that inevitably leaded to more change further down the line which would send her already topsy-turvy life into a further sense of turmoil.

And this is the first thought that enters her brain when she sees Leadworth Comprehensive School for the first time. A block of windows and metal and people and alteration. A whole new chapter in her life, dad had said, in a new place where she could start again: leaving all her old memories in her familiar hometown of Lancashire before they had chance to do any lasting damage.

Yet, even though she can't stand change, she just has to deal with it.

Clara is dragged from her daydream and her staring across the massive school block when a boy bashes into her side, knocking her off balance. The boy didn't even look her way as he proceeded across the paved courtyard; pulling a white Apple headphone out his ear as he did so.

Great. She sighed as she pulled her red school satchel further up her shoulder. Awesome first impression.

Anyway, if anybody else is rude to her, she just won't tolerate it. Clara Oswald is not the kind of girl to let people walk all over her, especially acne-ridden teenage boys and bitchy high school girls. She'd experienced enough to realise the only way to get those sort of people off your back is to get you on their back first and show them whose boss- even if that ended you up in the headteacher's office after a harsh (yet true and very witty) insult or two in their direction.

Clara can't help but smirk to herself. Oh, those were the days.

She scanned the building before her and it wasn't long before she spotted two glass doors and a small sign which read reception above it. Dad had said that that was where she was meant to go in order to meet her head of year or something and collect her new timetable; meet her new form class. Yet another thing she wasn't really looking forward to, the niggling feeling in the back of her mind saying what if they don't like you?

Stop it, Clara. You're being stupid.

She sighed to herself for encouragement before warily taking her first steps down into the courtyard, her grip tight round the handle of her satchel. She tried to ignore the glances of curiosity in her direction and the judgment on the faces of her new peers as they look her up and down: can't really blame them, though, she's new. Of course she was going to cause some intrigue.

She grabbed onto the doorhandles of the glass reception and pushed open the doors, where a friendly looking room greeted her. A main central desk with a line of red sofa's harboured the back wall, occupied by two teenage boys as of present that both had their arms folded and slumped in their chairs. They both perked up slightly as she walked in, though, like they'd never seen anybody new in their lives before.

Clara gave them a look before walking over to the desk. She didn't exactly have boys chasing at her heels yet she had had some occasional admirers which were needless baggage she could do without.

"What can I do for you, love?" the woman at the desk asked kindly, the badge emblazoned on her white blouse stating that her name was Jacqueline Tyler, Receptionist.

Clara smiled, pressing her hands on the desk. "Um, I'm Clara. Clara Oswald? I'm supposed to be starting Year Eleven."

"Oh! Yes!" Miss (Mrs? Yes, Mrs, she was wearing a wedding ring) Tyler gave Clara a grin as she messed about with some papers on the desk, apologising hurriedly as she did so. "Yes! I'll just have to get Mr Mott for you, he has your entire timetable and everything sorted out for you. If you'd like to take a seat for a few minutes, Clara."

Clara nodded a thanks and backed towards the chairs. She sunk back into the soft, red felt and placed her bag at the floor next to her feet. That wasn't too hard, was it? Perfectly fine. Just had the rest of the day to get through now.

The peace was interrupted as a boy in a flamboyant purple jacket and the whackiest haircut she'd ever seen burst in through the double doors; running up to the desk as if his life depended on it. Clara couldn't help but chuckle at his urgency as, according to the chart on the wall, the bell didn't go for at least another ten minutes for registration.

"John!" Mrs Tyler scolded the boy (whom Clara now knew was named John), "What's the rush?"

"I promised Mr Jones I'd get the register this morning," John gasped his reply, still panting after his little sprint, "So can I have it, please?"

"Of course you can love, but there's no need to rush!" laughed Mrs Tyler, "Bell doesn't go for another ten minutes!"

John looked at Mrs Tyler as if he didn't believe her, his brow furrowing. He looked over at the wall and his face fell as he realised what the actual time was.

"Amelia!" he grumbled under his breath. Oh, right, so he'd been tricked into it by a girl! He turned back to Mrs Tyler, slightly embarrassed. "You can never trust anybody these days, Mrs Tyler. It really is shocking."

Mrs Tyler shook her head in disbelief. "I'll go get that register for you in anyway, love. Sit down for a second."

John nodded and jumped into the seat right next to Clara: sending a ricochet across the chairs and making her jolt backwards slightly. He sighed loudly and Clara tried her best to divert the inevitable laugh into a less noticeable cough.

"You know, you'd think that your best friend would at least tell you the truth," he muttered- and Clara wasn't sure whether it was to himself or to her so she just left it. How odd.

Then he turned to her, completely unexpectedly. "Wouldn't you?"

Clara blinked in reply, so surprised at this contact that it took her a while to get the words out her mouth. "Uh…Yes, I suppose so."

"Yes, I would suppose too," he admitted and he gave her a big smile- the kind that curved upwards so it made his eyes two little lines, his already uh, angular chin becoming more prominent. What a chin! "I'm John Smith. Most people tend to call me the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Clara queried at that oddity of the nickname, "Why?"

"Does there need to be reason?" he countered and Clara supposes there doesn't. Not all things are explained. "You?"

"Me? Oh, I'm Clara." she smiled warmly as she tucked a loose strand of her brown waves behind her ear. "Clara Oswald."

"Oh. You're the genius." he remarked with a sly smile.

Clara smiled too, for a moment, before registering his remark again in her head and realising that there was something not quite right about it. "I'm sorry?"

"The sixteen year old computer whizz and maths genius." John replied and her absolute confusion about how he could possibly know that about her clearly shows in her perplexed facial expression: her brow furrows and her lips pout ever so slightly. "My form teacher told us. You're in my form class. He teaches maths, so he's pretty excited to meet you."

"Oh great." Clara groaned, sweeping her hand over her face. "So people actually know about the whole genius thing?"

John frowned. "What's wrong with that?"

"Something about the words 'computer whizz' don't seem to attract many friends." Clara said, before reiterating, "Or people in general. Unfortunately there isn't a word for 'total screaming genius' that's modest and a tiny bit sexy as of yet."

John laughed, throwing his head back and collapsing into his chair. Damn it, Oswald. She was going to be fun. "I have the exact same problem."

Clara arched an eyebrow. "You're a genius?"

"Yes. Well…" John folded his arms, "Tend to keep it quiet. People don't seem to appreciate you telling them that they should listen to you because you happen to be considerably more clever than them. And what' so surprising about me being a genius?"

"Nothing!" Clara replied hastily, "Although I suppose you need something to make up for that chin…"

He brought his hands up to his face defensively and was about to make a comment on just how bloody small her feet were, when Mrs Tyler came back through to the main reception with a yellow folder in her hand.

"Here's the register John, my dear!" Mrs Tyler said, handing over the wallet to John's grip.

He took the folder graciously and gave Mrs Tyler a quick thank you, scanning down the list of names present on the list. "Yep, Clara Oswald, your name is on here."

He looked up and gave her a grin. It reassured her a bit; making her feel that there was probably a chance that she could possibly already have a friend here.

He tucked the folder under his arm. "I'll see you in a bit then, Clara Oswald. We can be geniuses together." He hesitated for a moment, "Geniuses? That's the correct plural, isn't it?"

Clara decided it was so she gave him a quick nod. "Yeah."

"Right, well," he tipped his head in her direction, "Bye!"

And with that, John 'the Doctor' Smith turned and left the reception- and Clara Oswald grinned to herself. The rest of the day did seem so daunting after all.