There was just something about her. Something about the way her hand fit so perfectly in his own, as if it was meant to be there. Something about the way her warm brown eyes gazed so trustingly into his. Something about the way she came back to save him. And the way she cared about people.
That was partly why he'd gone back in time to see her parents, her childhood. Something about Clara was so very much like his Rose that he'd wondered if somehow, someway - but no. Just an ordinary Earth girl - if there really was such a thing - born of ordinary Earth parents. Perhaps she did share some of the same qualities as his best beloved, but as he'd assured her, Clara was beautifully, wonderfully unique. Just as it should be.
Delighted laughter bubbled up beside him, interrupting his musings, and a small hand insinuated itself into his own.
"Enjoying yourself, Clara?"
"Did you see that, Doctor? Whole clouds of blue and silver sparkly little butterfly…things! They were so beautiful!"
"Yes, I expect they were," he agreed.
"Did you even look?"
"I must have blinked. Which way did they go? Never mind," he amended, as another cloud of 'butterflies' engulfed them. He didn't think it was possible for Clara to look any more enchanted, but she did. "Stand very still," he whispered.
She complied. "What's wrong?" she breathed.
"Not a thing. There's a butterfly in your hair."
"Really?"
"Really really."
Clara's gaze followed his free hand as he reached up to gently touch the top of her head.
"That's it, little fellow," he coaxed. Ever so carefully, the Doctor lowered his arm so she could see the brilliant blue and silver creature perched delicately on his finger. "Local legend says that if one of these lands on you, you should make a wish."
"What will you wish for?" Clara asked.
"It didn't land on me, it landed on you. Your wish."
She screwed her eyes shut for a moment, looking for all the world like a little girl about to blow out the birthday candles.
"What did you wish for?" the Doctor asked, as they watched the butterfly beat its wings and swirl off to join its mates.
"If I tell you, it won't come true. Doctor?" she added, "How about you? What are you gonna wish for?"
"Hmm?"
Clara nodded meaningfully, her eyes up tilted to focus on the top of his head. She tried desperately to stifle her laughter as he nearly crossed his eyes, trying to see the butterfly, then finally burst into giggles as it flew away.
"Doctor?" Clara prodded, "What did you wish for?"
"That's not fair, you know. You wouldn't tell me your wish."
"So?" Clara's eyes sparkled mischievously.
"If you must know, I didn't wish for anything."
"Why not?"
He looked down at their intertwined hands, then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Didn't need to."