I am an emotional mess and this was written in about twenty minutes. Please forgive any errors and general messiness.

I would LOVE to write more about these two and their adventures, so if you have any prompts or ideas please send them my way!

She has piloted the TARDIS before, but this is different.

This TARDIS is hers.

The Doctor's TARDIS had hated her at first, had constantly been shutting doors in her face or sending sparks burning against her fingertips if Clara got to close to the console. By the end they'd understood each other.

But not like this.

She is not telepathic, not in the slightest, Clara Oswald is very, very human, but this TARDIS, this basic, ancient box just feels right.

Ashildr stares at her from across the console. This ancient girl who Clara had met so many years ago. "Where are we going?" she asks. It is the way she says the words—causal, curious, quiet that strikes Clara. Ashildr—Me—has grown up. She's still the terrible ancient immortal, but she is no longer the little viking Clara the Doctor had sacrificed so much to save. She's strong and beautiful and grown.

Clara grins. "Oh, Gallifrey," she says, typing in the first numbers she can think of, random coordinates that buzz at the tip of her fingers. She has no idea where they lead and she doesn't particularly care. Her right hand curls into a fist around a lever and yanks it down. The TARDIS sings.

"Gallifrey?" Me asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Gallifrey," Clara says, "the long way round."


They travel the universe, the girl who is dead and the girl who can never die. They run across all of space and time and they watch the stars burn.

Clara is careful not to run into the Doctor, she tries. They meet up with Jack, once, at a bar in the 51st century.

"Hello," he says when he sees them, and Me rolls her eyes.

Clara looks up at this man with his hollowed eyes and his face that is familiar with laughter and his tousled hair that is probably styled to be so wonderfully rumpled. "Hello," she says. "I'm Clara."

"Oh, the Clara," he rocks back on his heels, as if impressed. "Me's told me about you,"

"Has she?"

Me shrugs. "There are only a few immortals I know Clara," she says, slinging an arm around Clara's shoulders and pulling her close. "And you're funny."

Me smells like pine and woodsmoke, rich and warm and familiar. Clara leans into her embrace, pressing a quick kiss to the girl's cheek. "Aw, thanks."

Jack raises an eyebrow.

"Don't start," Me snaps sharply, giving him an affectionate shove.

"I wasn't going to!" Jack raises his hands, defensive, and Clara laughs.

Jack travels with them, for a few days.

"I thought you travelled with the Doctor?" he asks her.

They are lying out on a barren moon somewhere in a galaxy Clara has never heard of, watching the stars. Me is half asleep, curled against Clara's side, head resting against Clara's chest. Her breaths are soft and steady, almost audible. Clara fixes her gaze on the sky and entangles their fingers, searching for Me's pulse. She likes to be reminded what a heartbeat feels like.

"I did," Clara says, turning just slightly to look at Jack. The Captain is still focused on the stars, and she can see the age in his eyes, the weight. "He mentioned you, a few times."

"Did he?" Jack seems surprised. He laughs, very softly. "Good." He looks at her, serious, "did you leave him?"

"I never wanted to," Clara whispers. "Ever. We were quite the pair. Dangerous, Me said."

"Dangerous?"

Clara thinks of shouting matches and exploding ships, the dizzying sensation of dangling from a TARDIS. "Yeah," she says, "but the best kind."


Clara and Me sit with their feet dangling out of the door of the TARDIS and watch the cycles of the moon. "I used to talk to my students about this sometimes," Clara says, watching the earth spin, tilting on its axis, "and explain to them about how the tides worked. They never really got it."

"I bet you were a brilliant teacher," Me sits swings her legs experimentally, playing with the gravity and the air extension the TARDIS is providing for them. "They must miss you."

"Yeah," Clara wonders what substitute they school board had found to replace her, then decides that she really can't think about that. She's dead, after all.

"When do you want to go back?" Me asks, seriously. "We can't run forever."

"No," Clara says, sighing. "I know that, trust me, but…not yet."

Me smirks. "Should I set a date? A time limit?"

"We have a time machine," Clara teases, standing and stepping fully back inside the TARDIS. They still haven't figured out how to change the background so its still a basic white. She's actually grown quite fond of it. It has lots of round things, as the Doctor would say. "A date would never work."

Me steps inside too, closing the door behind her. "Alright then, Clara Oswald," she says, hands on her hips. "You still have a single heartbeat left. I have forever. And there are planets that need saving."

"That's the Doctor's job, isn't it?"

Me laughs. "He can't be the Doctor everyday, and he can't be everywhere at once." She reaches for Clara's hand, her pulse quick as butterfly wings against Clara's skin. "Come on, you're itching to save a planet."

The words echo strangely to Clara, as if she's heard them before. Or said them before. Time is odd to her know. She's been running from the Raven for so long and been without the Doctor for so long that everything is starting to blur together. "When I die," Clara says, "will you even remember me? With your finite memory?"

Me smiles very gently. "Clara Oswald," she whispers, "I could never forget you."

Clara's throat tightens. "Alright," she says, blinking the tears from her eyes. 'Let's go save some planets."

She lets Me type in the coordinates, and lets the TARDIS take them where they really need to go.