Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or anything related to it.
A/N: So apparently the document manager won't let me keep the asterisks I was using for the the scene breaks. I apologize for not noticing as this caused the POV change early in the story and the time skip later in the story to be really jarring. I have replaced them with lines. I also apologize to anyone fooled into thinking I had actually updated the story. For now this remains a one-shot, though I am considering several possibilities for a sequel.
The Doctor finished landing the TARDIS with a sigh. Where he had landed her, he didn't know, it hadn't seemed to matter at the time. He glanced at the nearest monitor noting yet another summons from the High Concil to ignore. Likely as not it was merely the latest in their endless attempts to draft him into the war. Then again, this time they could very well be planning to charge him with treason. He had, after all, attempted to snatch the creator of their enemy from his certain doom. Doubtful. They're too desperate for that. If the rumors were true they were so desperate for help they had or were planning to ressurect the Master, though the Doctor had not managed to confirm those reports. No, the Doctor was sure the Council wanted him for the war effort. Not happening.
At the war's beginning he had gone to them and offered help, on his terms. Nothing official, no weapons, he was not a soldier, not a warrior. But clever solutions to complex problems he could do. And he always did his best to contain the damage the war did, to protect the innocents and the bystanders from results of the actions of Daleks and Time Lords alike. That had ended up being the reason for his leaving.
At the beginning of the war the Time Lords had made an effort at least. But as the war quickly spiraled out of control their concerns about collateral damage ebbed as their desperation increased. Now the once forbidden weapons in the Omega arsenal were being brought out, one by one, always "the last resort", always "this far and no further". After the Fields of Fire he had simply had enough. He still helped out from time to time, but completely on his own, no input from High Command. Never the less, his experiences at the Gates of Elysium had been awful.
He wasn't even really sure what had possessed him to attempt to save Davros, of all people. Maybe some insanely optimistic part of him had still hoped to employ reason. After all, looking around at the horrors unleashed at the Gates of Elysium surely even Davros, creator of the Daleks would question. But he had failed, and Davros was dead, and whether the High Council was particularly inclined to charge him with treason or not, perhaps he should keep a low profile for a while.
He brought his attention back to the monitor and found himself laughing lightly. Of course. Earth. Early twenty-first century by their calendar. Not even just Earth. London. He loved this place, and these people, like a second home for him. As good a place as any, and a few years later than the majority of his visits, so he was less likely to be found. He picked his coat up off the Console and put it on as he headed toward the doors. They opened right as he reached them and a woman walked in.
She was pretty. Short, with brown hair and eyes, and a very cute nose. She had begun speaking the moment she walked in. "Doctor! What are you doing here, wasn't expecting you until-" she stopped suddenly. She appeared to have been moving to hug him when she finally actually registered his appearance and she froze. She stayed like that for a moment staring at him before slowly moving back into a more normal position. Finally, she seemed to find her voice. "Oh my stars!"
Clara was stunned. She'd been having a very ordinary day buying a few odds and ends for her new flat. Well new is a relative term. She'd lived there for a few months now actually. And it felt like even longer than that. Well for me it has been longer, always running off with the Doctor for longer than I mean to. She hadn't been able to stay away since they had saved Gallifrey. Well, since Trenzalore, really. Anyway, the point was she had been having a very ordinary day. Maybe too ordinary, she had been just a little too happy to hear the sound of the TARDIS and had set off at a run at once. She had, of course, paused for a moment outside the doors to catch her breath. No way she was going to let him know just how eager she had been to see him, after all.
And so she found herself standing in front of the Doctor speechless, thinking about how she got here. Because she really shouldn't be here. Really really. Of course, she had met other incarnations of the Doctor before. But last time she had been with her Doctor, and she assumed he would stop her from creating any universe ending paradoxes or anything. And jumping into his timestream had been an entirely different matter, something she already knew she had done when she did it. And precious few of her echoes had actually met the Doctor, face to face, in any case. She had seen him, so many times, but he had rarely seen her. But this was just her, face to face in the TARDIS by herself with a Doctor who didn't know her.
The Eighth Doctor, she liked him. Well, I lov- Like she corrected herself firmly. I like the Doctor in general. All of him. Well, I'm not sure how much time I would really want to spend with the one who dressed like a clown, he wasn't very nice. Still, the Doctor is the Doctor and I …like…him very much. Though few of the Doctors knew her she knew each of them very well and this was one of her favorites. Not quite as wonderful as my chin boy, but- She frowned at herself again, this time not because she had noticed she was gushing about the Doctor, even if only in her thoughts, but at her reflexive use of Oswin's nickname for him. All of her memories from her echoes, always coming and going, were hard enough to keep track of at the best of times. While she accepted that her echoes were her she tried very hard to keep everything compartmentalized and organized for her own sanity.
At this point she noticed that the Doctor was trying to get her attention and had been for some time. "Hello? Hello? Have I broken you, then?" He said with a slight laugh masking genuine concern.
Clara shook her head as much in hopes of clearing it as to say no. "Sorry." She said. "Hello, Doctor." No point in pretending she didn't know him, having waltzed right into his TARDIS chatting away about when she was expecting him.
"Hello." He said in polite confusion. "Who are you? How did you get in to my TARDIS? Do I know you?"
"Sort of." Clara said uncomfortably. She scratched the side of her head unsure of how much to tell him. "Just not yet," she settled on.
His eyes lit up and he took on a look of excitement that reminded her a bit of her Doctor, but more of his tenth self, well eleventh, she supposed. The one before hers in any case. "So, you're one of my future travelling companions, then?"
She nodded reluctantly. "Yeah." She hesitated. "Don't think this is supposed to be happening, though. I mean, when we met you didn't know me, well you did, but that was different, you didn't seem to remember this meeting and neither of the others seemed to know me at all." Damn. She had started babbling and had said more than she meant to.
"Neither of the others?" He asked incredulously. "So you've met three of me?" He thought for a moment. "You travel with the latest of the three, yes? And he was there with you when you met the other two and they would have forgotten if the time lines became out of sync while they were being crossed. So that explains that." He suddenly looked around. "Well, I don't see any more of me right now."
Clara nodded, not surprised that he had worked it out from what she had given him. He was clever, her Doctor, that was one of the things she…liked…about him. "So why didn't he remember this meeting?"
"I don't know." He said with a shrug. "I suppose I must forget. Wouldn't surprise me. It seems to happen to this me a lot. I think this regeneration must be cursed with memory problems."
Clara held back a giggle, knowing how true that was. She took a good look at him. He looked older than the last time she, one of her echoes anyway, had seen him. His clothes were different than she had ever seen them. He was a bit more weathered.Still as handsome as ever. She couldn't prevent herself from thinking, though she scolded herself afterword. A small part of her mocked herself though, asking how many times a day she could tell herself not to fall in love with the man before admitting that she had failed.
His eyes were where the real difference was, though. Clara could read so much from the Doctor's eyes. Always could, with any of them. This Doctor's eyes had been so very young the last time she had seen him. Young and carefree and happy, in a way she had never seen her Doctor's be. They were still young by that standard. But oh so much older than the last time she had seen them. She added it up. It wasn't hard. The clothes, the weathered appearence, the console room that looked a little too much like the War Doctor's, and most of all the eyes: this was the Eighth Doctor after the Time War had begun. She hugged him suddenly. All that pain he had experienced and so much more yet to come. She wanted to help him, but didn't know how.
The Doctor shifted a little uncomfortably. Nothing like the flailing her Doctor was prone to, but it was noticable and she let him go. "You never did tell me your name, you know."
Ah, of course. This Doctor was a bit of a romantic, actually, but even for him getting hugs from complete strangers must be a bit much. Not that hugging the Doctor is a romantic thing. Her new inner critic laughed mockingly. "Clara," she said, ignoring the irritating mental voice. "Clara Oswald."
"Well, Clara Oswald, fancy a trip?" He said, smile on his face.
"Don't think my Doctor would approve," She said sadly. "You know, timelines and such."
"Your Doctor?" He asked reluctantly, puzzling over something in his mind. "The way you say that and the way you talk about him in general, the way you…" He stopped. "Are you and he…?"
"No," she said quickly. "No, nothing like that. Down boy," she said, covering her discomfort with a smile. She was surprised, but she thought she really shouldn't have been. Of all the doctors this was the one most likely to ask, to consider that possibility. He would be the one to realize how I- Anyway he was the regeneration that started the whole thing. Before him the Doctor hadn't show much of an inclination to pursue romantic relationships with humans. Maybe something with Sarah Jane, but neither of them ever said anything about it. She tried to keep the mocking voice from telling her that story sounded familiar.
"Well then, if not a trip, how about some tea?"
She hesitated. She really shouldn't. She shouldn't have stayed this long really. "That would be lovely," she said with a grin.
He had only just begun moving in response when there was a sudden noise, the TARDIS alerting the Doctor to a message. The display on the ceiling lit up and space-time coordinates were shown over and over again across the whole thing. Clara realized distantly that she must have access to some of her Gallifreyen memories at the moment to have known what they were, or to have even comprehended the Gallifreyen number system they used. The Doctor sighed and then continued on as if he had not been interrupted.
"Shouldn't you do something about that?"
"No. I don't recognize the significance of the date, but the location is definately Gallifrey. I'm sure it's just the High Council again," he replied. She raised an eyebrow at him "Oh, I'm ignoring them," he said as if that explained everything.
Suddenly she had a voice in her head. A female voice she almost had a name for, but the name was just out of her reach. It must be a voice she recongnized from a memory she didn't have access to right now. "The date," was all the voice said.
She looked up again. "Doctor." she called out, stopping him at the door. She recognized that date, she'd seen it with her Doctor, seen him input it to send out as a message. Normally she wouldn't have remembered. She was clever, but random dates in a number system she only knew some of the time? But of course that was no ordinary date. It was the date of one of the most significant events of her life. Bit of an understatement? she mocked herself. That was the date of one the most signifigant events in the history of the universe. The day Gallifrey didn't fall. "Really think you should to take that."
"Why?"
Her face lit up with a huge smile and she let out a happy laugh, overjoyed at the good news that she got to be the one to give him. "I know why you don't remember meeting me," she said.
"And?"
"You're about to have a very good day." She walked over to him and took both of his hands in her own. "Today is the day you end the war and save your people."
It had been magnificent watching him work. And helping. She had alot of memories from Gallifrey today it seemed, so she was able to help fly the TARDIS while he was occupied with other parts of the plan. But it was the change in his demeanor that really had her attention. All of the weight had lifted from him. His eyes were shining with joy again. It was almost as wonderful to be a part of as it had been the first time. It certainly hadn't hurt that she got to see her Doctor, even if it was only on a monitor when he was explaining the plan. All her Doctors, really, it was a joy to see any one of them.
She was glad that none of the post time war Doctors had mentioned how things had been different the first time around when the plan was being explained and discussed. The older Doctors didn't need to hear that. This Doctor, didn't need the weight of that. He would carry that burden, that guilt, for so very long as it was in the days ahead. It was right that this moment could be one of joy and exhiliration, even if he wouldn't remember. She wanted him to have this time, before he had to go back in to the war, the hell that was ahead of him. So she had given him something even his future selves hadn't had. The joyful certainty that it was going to work.
Afterword he took her back to Earth and he set the TARDIS into orbit. They had that cup of tea he had promised her, sitting in the doorway of the TARDIS looking out at her home. His way of thanking her for helping to save his, she supposed. And secure in the knowledge that he would forget and that she couldn't damage their timeline, she told him their story. Most of it anyway, she left out the sadder bits, though his eyes grew notably sad at even the implication of her suffering on Trenzalore. After the tea was gone she laid her head on his shoulder as she continued talking.
When her story had come to a close he landed back where she had found him, not ten minutes after they had left. He seemed so reluctant to let her go, not wanting to forget. He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead so very like his future self would have done. "Thank you, impossible girl," he said softly, trying the nickname out. "It was a delight to meet you. And it will be again."
"You weren't so bad yourself," she said with a smirk. She threw her arms arround him and hugged him tightly.
Pulling back a little she stared into his eyes. She was siezed by an unexpected recklesness. Moving her hands to his face she suddenly closed the distance between their lips and kissed him fiercely. It took him less than a second to respond in kind, despite his obvious shock. Clara certainly couldn't say how long it was before they reluctantly broke the kiss.
"What was that?" He asked, a confused, but happy, smile on his face. "I thought we-"
"We aren't," she said sounding a little sad. "Wanted to try it though, and you won't remember so it can't mess things up between us." That was such a lie. He wouldn't remember. But she would. I am in so much trouble. So much for not falling in love.
"Well I don't know him all that well, which is deeply ironic if you think about it, but if he's still me at all, I can't imagine he would mind," He said with a smile.
She nodded. "Bit more complicated than that, but I'll keep it in mind," she said, the second half delivered somewhat teasingly. She tightened her arms around him again. "Thank you, Doctor." She let go of him and he followed suit. With one last smile she turned and walked toward the doors. When she reached them she turned back and said, "I'll see you soon."
"I look forward to it, though it won't be so soon for me," he replied. She began to turn again, but stopped when he unexpectedly continued. "Unless I can convince you to go on a trip with me after all. Or another one, anyway." He smiled.
She hesitated. She really shouldn't.
