This story was inspired by the trailer for series 7 part 2 in which we see the Doctor and Clara on a plane that appears to be crashing as well as some events in Asylum of the Daleks and this years Christmas special the Snowmen. Enjoy!
"Can I get you anything ma'am?" Clara asked the passenger before her absentmindedly.
"Yes," the woman paused as she surveyed the contents of the trolley, "I'll have a packet of Salt and Shake, without the salt and a cup of tea, easy on the milk, and two sugars, brown not white."
"Huh." Clara replied, the order sounded so familiar, "I used to have a friend who always ordered the exact same." It was then that Clara actually looked up at the woman's face to realise that was not the only thing familiar about her. For the woman before her and the friend she spoke of were identical.
"Nina! I didn't recognise you!" Clara exclaimed.
Clara sighed, that was one blast from the past she'd hoped she would never see again. Nina had been the first person she'd ever taken an interest in and Clara could see why; perfect hair, dazzling eyes, not to mention those legs. It almost made her want to renew her membership to the mile high club. However, there wasn't time for that, she was working, and she needed to keep this job. Being an airhostess was a great way to get around for free; even the lousy wages were a bonus.
Clara continued her patrol of rows M – S, asking each passenger a similar question to the one which she'd asked Nina; "Can I get you anything?" and of course all the while she flashed her best, most bright smile. It was rather repetitive work but it wasn't as dull as being a passenger on this seven hour flight. Eventually, she reached the end of the aisle, there was a man sitting there. Clara could have sworn that he hadn't been there when the plane took off and she was sure Brian had said row T was empty. She was being silly of course; a man couldn't just appear on a plane midway through flight, so she ignored her instincts and approached him. He was dressed rather unusually, a bow tie, waistcoat and there was a top hat discarded on the seat to his left.
"Anything off the trolley, dear?" Clara said repeating a line from one of her favourite books.
"Have you got any jammy dodgers?!" he enquired with an enthusiastic smile. Clara thought the stranger might have been handsome if it weren't for that smile, his overly large chin and bad dress sense.
"I'm afraid not." Clara said sincerely "Can I get you anything else sir?"
"Typical 21st century, can't get jammy dodgers anywhere. No wonder they stop selling them in 2079," the man continued "What about fish fingers? Oh! And custard! Have you got any custard?!"
"Yes we do. One plate of fish fingers and one bowl of custard coming right up." Clara replied, ignoring his comments about the jammy dodgers.
"I think you're misunderstanding me." The man explained further, "When I say I want fish fingers and custard, I mean together, in the same bowl."
"Of course you do." Clara said then added, "It'll just be a few minutes."
Seven minutes later Clara returned with a steaming bowl of fish fingers and custard, it would have been five but she'd spent a couple of minutes trying to convince Stacy to swap sections with her.
"There you go sir. Can I just see your ticket so I can have it charged to your seat?" Clara asked.
"Here." The man said after handing her a leather card wallet which he pulled out of his pocket, "I think you'll find this all in order."
Clara opened the wallet to find nothing but a piece of white paper inside. She really wasn't sure what this guy was on, he didn't smell of alcohol, nor were his pupils dilated so she assumed it must be some new drug going about.
"Is this some kind of joke?" She alleged, feeling highly unamused, "It's a blank piece of paper."
"I should have known that wouldn't work on you. You're far too clever." The man concluded.
"What wouldn't work?" Clara questioned, "If you haven't got a ticket you'll have to come with me sir."
"The Psycic paper. Pay attention." He commanded as she led him to a room at the front of the plane, "For someone so clever you really are quite slow, Miss Oswald."
Clara sighed, that was one thing she disliked about this job, everyone knew her name, there was no anonymity; she had to wear a big flash badge saying "Clara, Junior Flight Attendant". That was when she realised, her badge only said her first name, so how had this odd man known her name? He was still talking now but little of what he had said actually made sense.
"….didn't work. You managed to fight off full Dalek conversion for a year, and you helped to destroy the physical form of the Great Intelligence. I really should have seen that coo…OW!" he cried out as Clara's palm made contact with his cheek, "What was that for?!"
"Sorry sir." Clara whispered, "I just needed you to shut up."
"Sir? You found me on a plane, without a ticket and you're still treating me like a first class passenger?" he observed, "Really if you're going to call me anything I would prefer Doctor."
"Doctor?" she inquired, "Doctor who?"
"Just, the Doctor. I mean how hard is it….."
"Shhh….!" Clara silenced the Doctor by placing a finger on his lips, "Listen."
The Doctor did as she asked but all he heard was the chatter of the passengers in the plane.
"Listen to what?"
Clara turned around to face the door which led to the cockpit, and pressed her ear against it. The Doctor stepped closer, mirroring her position on the other end of the door, all was silent in the room beyond. The Doctor reached for the door handle, but Clara's hand caught his midway. She pointed to a sign above the door; "Unauthorised Personnel may NOT enter the Cockpit", but the Doctor just grinned.
"There's one thing I can't resist." He informed her, "And do you know what that is? A Keep Out sign."
With that, the Doctor turned the handle and the door slid side-ways to reveal the grey interior of the cockpit. The Captain and Co-pilot were still, heads flopping uselessly to the side.
"Are they…dead?" Clara asked the Doctor, praying he would answer with a negative.
The Doctor placed two fingers on each of their necks.
"No pulse." He said regretfully as he raised the pilot's arm and allowed it to fall. He then proceeded to remove a cylindrical device from his pocket and point it at the men. The device emitted a strange whistling sound and the Doctor examined a green light on the device before replacing it in his pocket, "There seems to be a slight cyanosis of the hands which suggest hypoxia, no sign of what caused it though."
Clara swallowed, "They were poisoned."
"What makes you say that?"
"I smell almonds."
The Doctor confirmed her assessment by breathing in deeply, sure enough masked by the scent of air freshener that smelled more like a grandmother's perfume, he could smell almonds. Clara noticed a white mug resting on a small table between the pilots, she picked it up and sniffed it suspiciously.
"It was in the coffee." Clara assessed, "Stacy was in charge of this section. No wonder she wouldn't swap sections with me. Didn't want me finding them like this I suppose."
"What makes you think it was her?"
"She was the only one with access to the cockpit." She clarified.
"Doesn't mean it was her," the Doctor argued "Is she still on the plane?"
"Yes, of course she is."
"Then it definitely wasn't her," he confirmed, presenting her with a small piece of fabric, "That's nylon. A fabric commonly used to make parachutes, and judging from the state of the room next door, whoever set this up is long gone. And if their parachute is torn then I suspect we won't be able to catch them."
Clara remained silent, processing the Doctor's analysis. He was clever, almost as smart as her but he was strange some of the things he said made absolutely no sense and he was dressed as though he had stepped out of the 19th century. Normally she would have turned and ran from a man such as this but there was something about him, something that intrigued her and made her want to learn more.
"Don't worry, if their intention was to crash the plane they've failed." The Doctor explained, "Someone forgot to turn off the auto-pilot."
"We're going to be fine?"
"It would appear so." The Doctor grinned, "Normally, this goes a lot differently. Perhaps the Universe has decided to extend its bargain to more than just one adventure at a time."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Auto-pilot Disengaged," a mechanical voice announced.
The plain began to shake violently and with each stutter the nose gradually began to point downwards.
"We're crashing!"
"I can see that!" the Doctor yelled as he turned and left the cockpit, "Come on!"
"Where are you going?!" Clara cried "You can't just leave; we've got to try and land this thing."
"To make an announcement." The Doctor said as he grabbed the microphone for the in-flight communications, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this plane is about to crash. Please ignore the seatbelt signs and the oxygen masks that are about to fall down imminently, they…."
Clara interrupted the Doctor's speech and grabbed the microphone from his hands, throwing it to the ground. The nose of the plane was angled about 6 degrees now, an angle that was becoming steeper. "What do you think you're doing? You've sent them into a panic. We've got to stabilise this plane!"
To answer her, the Doctor opened the door which led to the disabled toilet, inside was a worn, old Police Telephone Box from the 1960s.
"I don't know what you're suggesting Doctor, nor do I know how that thing got here but I don't think the police can help us." Clara sighed; she was trapped on a plane with only a mad man to help her stop it from crashing.
"That's not a telephone box, that's my ship. That's how I got on this plane" The Doctor proclaimed proudly, "And she's about to save all of our lives. So pass me that microphone and we can get everyone off of this plane."
"I don't see how everyone is supposed to fit in there…" Clara said as she reluctantly passed the Doctor the microphone.
As the Doctor ushered passengers through the TARDIS doors, Clara directed them through the plane. She didn't see how so many people were fitting into a box that could fit into a bathroom but nonetheless she continued to guide people towards it. First class and second were clear but Clara made another sweep of the plane to ensure everyone was safely in the Doctor's "ship". At least they would die with some hope, crammed into that old police box. The plane was empty aside from herself, she was stood at the rear of the plane, where she had found the Doctor, when something caught her eye through the window. She moved over to it and peaked outside, blinking in the distance, on the ground where the plane was headed, were streetlights. They were going to crash into a town, even if everyone got off the plane the people below would die.
"Yes, yes, it's bigger on the inside." The Doctor repeated to his many passengers, before returning to his search for Clara, "Clara! Clara! Has anyone seen Clara?"
"She's still on the plane, she said something about making sure everyone got off." A woman dressed in similar uniform to Clara informed him.
"Just a minute, Ladies and Gentlemen, a friend of mine is trying to get herself killed. Again." The Doctor explained before rushing off to find her.
Clara was staring out of a window at the back of the plane, "Clara, come on. We have to go, now."
"But we can't. We can't leave this plane. Look Doctor, if we leave this plane, all those people will die. Please Doctor, you have to stop it." Clara pleaded.
"If I save those people will you come away with me?"
"Yes." She promised.
"You'll need this then." He said closing her hand around a TARDIS key.
The Doctor watched as the lights approached, if he acted now then there might be a chance to stop the plane colliding the town. He spun and ran towards the front of the plane, pulling his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and directing it's affects to the plane's controls. Clara followed close behind him he dived into the cockpit and grabbed what he could only presume was called a steering wheel.
"Your ship, it's…it's… smaller on the outside." Clara paused before entering the cockpit, "Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor. I'm an alien from outer space. I'm a thousand-years-old, I've got two hearts, and I can't fly a plane!" he exclaimed as the plane's, nose pointed towards the ground at a critical angle.
Clara's hands wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him backwards, "Move!"
The Doctor obliged her as she took over control of the plane, "What are you doing?"
"It's too late to land this thing," she explained, "But I can at least prevent it from killing all those people in that town."
"But you'll have to stay on the plane until the end." The Doctor realised.
"Yes. And you have an important job to do. You have to get those people off of this plane." She instructed.
"I won't let you get yourself killed." He refused.
"Doctor, there's no time. You have to go." Clara begged.
The Doctor froze, he couldn't allow her to sacrifice herself again. There had to be a way.
"Run you clever boy, and remember." Clara said softly.
As she spoke the familiar words he heard the echoes of Oswin and the Victorian Clara repeating the same sentence. It was too late now, she was right, he had to go. She'd said it, meaning he couldn't save her.
As the doors of the TARDIS shut behind the last of the passengers the Doctor felt himself shed a tear. He would find her again, he knew that, but still it felt as though he was losing her. Because it wasn't her, it was some new woman who looked and sounded like her, and he would never meet this Clara again.
So that's it folks. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and if you can please take the time to review. My original intention was to make this a series of short stories but I have exams next month so I really don't have the time. If you're that curious I'll tell you where I was going to go with this. Also just putting a spoiler warning because if by some unlikely event this actually happens then I will feel guilty for ruining it for you.
At the end of series 6 we saw Dorium declare to the Doctor that: "On the fields of Trenzalore, at the fall of the Eleventh, when no living creature may speak falsely or fail to give answer, a question will be asked. A question that must never, ever be answered." At first I went along with the crowd and assumed we were talking about the "fall" of the Eleventh Doctor but then I read an interview with Matt Smith and he was talking about Doctor who's big 50th anniversary year and how after the 50th anniversary special there was still the Christmas special which suggested to me that he would still be around for the Christmas episode at least. Ever since he took over Moffat has been building up this story which leads us to the Fields of Trenzalore, an arc that's lasted this long will surely save it's conclusion for the 50th anniversary special which therefore suggests "the fall of the Eleventh" will occur in this episode. So if Matt Smith is going to be around next Christmas then whose "fall" are we talking about, enter Jenna-Louise Coleman, who plays the amazing Clara. We've already see three versions of her, Oswin, Victorian Clara and then the Clara at the end of the Christmas special. There are 8 episodes left of series 7 and if we assume Clara dies in each of this episodes by the time the 50th anniversary comes around we will be on the 11th version of her. What if "the fall of the Eleventh" wasn't the fall of doctor at all but rather Clara. It doesn't necessarily mean she won't come back I mean Clara's arc has the potential to bring her back at any time. Jenna-Louise has also said in several episodes that Clara is intrigued by the Doctor and wants to know more, and as the companion she will be present for the episode. Perhaps it will be her who asks the question, perhaps it will be her who "falls". Just something for you to think about.