AN: This is a Doctor and Rose reunion fic. I'm not sure how far down the romantic reunion vortex I'm going to take this. There will be sweet moments. I think Twelve is perfectly capable of being sweet when it suits him but I want to be as true to the characters as possible so please don't expect like chocolates and fancy dress. Expect awkward adventures! This is set before the end of Season 8, after Mummy on the Orient Express and before Dark Water.

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Clara sat curled up in the console room arm chair idly flipping through a few books she had pulled from the nearest bookcase. One of the largest was full of star maps and the margins were filled with the Doctor's familiar loopy script. The pictures were beautiful, silver embossed stars on vast fields of rich inky blue. The Doctor himself was across the room scrawling numbers across his chalkboard muttering under his breath about equations and constants and singularities. She was never quite sure who he was talking to: her, the TARDIS or himself.

"Are you almost done Doctor?" she called. "It's been hours and you promised to have me home ages ago. At this rate I should have brought my grading."

The Doctor turned to look at her chalk poised in midair. "Nearly done Clara, just calculating a few more adjustments to the turbulence controls. That last take off was a little bumpy for my taste." He paused, squinting his eyes at her. "Then off you pop to see the gym teacher."

Clara frowned. "Maths," she responded automatically.

"Yeeees," the Doctor replied slowly, "Very good. That's what I'm currently trying to do. So please a little quiet while I concentrate."

Clara rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the other book in her lap. She had found it shoved under a stack of papers on the bottom shelf. It was a large illustrated copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales. Someone had lovingly colored all the pictures and filled in the margins with twisting vines and vibrant roses. On the front page in cramped precise script, it had read - 'For Susan, on her 8th Birthday. - Grandfather' Clara blinked and read it again.

"Doctor?" she called, question obvious in her voice, fingers tracing the lines of the signature. A shrill ringing broke the silence of the console room before the Doctor could answer. Clara jumped, startled, and the book slid from her lap flipping open to the last page. The Big Bad Wolf gazed up at her, large menacing eyes painted over with brilliant polished gold that flickered dark and light, reflecting the wavering light of the console room. There was something off about the image, the wolves eyes were too piercing, the shadows too deep. She shivered and flipped the book shut. The ringing continued.

"Clara could you answer that?"

"Why do I have to answer it. I'm not your secretary." After a few more rings of the phone and no response from the Doctor she sighed dramatically and marched across the room to answer the persistent ringing.

"I still don't know why you even have a phone. You're a posh alien from the future, I didn't think that they would have phones in the future. Thought they would have moved on." Clara mumbled.

"It's a police call box Clara. It can't very well not have a phone can it?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know take a message!"

"Hello?" She was meant with silence and then suddenly a sharp burst of static and jumbled words. She tried again,"Hello? I'm very sorry I can't make out what you're saying." Pressing the phone closer to her ear, she strained to pick out any intelligible words. She frowned, it sounded like Doctor, bay, void, and shielding maybe.

"Who is it?" the Doctor called out.

"I don't know! It's all static, like the call can't quite come through."

"Really?" The Doctor, interest finally piqued, but the chalk down, and wiped his hands on his coat front leaving faint streaks of white dust in their wake. "Reception on that phone should always be crystal clear, best data plan in the universe!"

Clara waved at him to stop talking so that she could listen. The phone suddenly went silent. "Hello?" she asked tentatively. Two distinct words emerged from the silence, followed suddenly by the dial tone.

"Well what did they say," the Doctor demanded.

She put down the phone, confused. "Just two words, Bad Wolf." Her stomach dropped as she watched all the color drain from the Doctor's face. "Doctor? Are you all right? What does Bad Wolf mean? Didn't the other you, the older looking you... well the even older looking you, say something about that when..." She watched with wide eyes as the Doctor frantically ran to the console and began pushing buttons. "Doctor?"

Abruptly the lights switched from cool blue to burning red and the deep sound of a bell reverberated through the ship. Clara felt it toll in her bones. The TARDIS lurched sideways and she nearly fell, just managing to jolt forward and catch the edge of the console. "Doctor! What's happening!"

"It's the cloister bell," the Doctor yelled over the din of the TARDIS' engines, which had suddenly sprung to life.

"Don't be daft I know that! What does it mean!?" Clara yelled.

"It means we are going to see an old friend and hopefully we won't be destroyed in the process," the Doctor snapped back.

Clara held onto the hard edge of the console watching as the Doctor scrambled, pushing buttons and pulling levers. His motions were manic and he sounded worried but there was a light in his eyes, he seemed... well excited. The TARDIS lurched again and her hands slipped, the floor rushing up to meet her.