"Do not attempt to escape or you will be obliterated!" Strax announced as Jenny led Clara into the house. "May I take your coat?"
Jenny motioned for Strax to move aside and led Clara into the conservatory. Exotic greenery and heat lamps were in abundance, and Madame Vastra was seated behind a desk, sipping from a glass full of red liquid. Clara couldn't help put stare with wide eyes as the reptilian woman glanced up, took another sip of her drink, then placed it on a table and settled back in her chair, regarding Clara with a cool gaze.
"Sit," Jenny said. Clara looked between the two of them in uncharacteristic timidity before sitting.
"There are two refreshments in your world the color of red wine," Vastra commented lightly. "This is not red wine."
Clara swallowed nervously.
"Madame Vastra will ask you questions," Jenny explained from behind them. "You will confine yourself to single word responses. One word only, do you understand?"
Clara paused, gathering her wits.
"Why?" she asked.
"Truth is singular," Vastra replied. "Lies are words, words, words. You met the Doctor, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"And know you've come looking for him again. Why?"
Clara opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"Take your time," Jenny said quietly. "One word only."
"Curiosity," she finally said.
"About?"
"Snow."
"And about him?"
"Yes."
"What do you want from him?"
"Help?"
"Why?"
The questions grew more faster and as Clara grew more confident, her answers came in rapid succession.
"Danger."
"Why would he help you?" Vastra's tone became critical, and Clara hesitated.
"Kindness," she finally said with a smile.
"The Doctor is not kind."
"No?"
"No," Vastra agreed. "The Doctor doesn't help people. Not anyone, not ever. He stands above this world and doesn't interfere in the affairs of its inhabitants. He is not your salvation, nor your protector. Do you understand what I am saying to you?"
There was a pause, then Clara smiled slightly. "Words."
Jenny failed to hide a smirk, and Vastra sat back in her chair.
"He was once... a different man," she finally admitted. "A long time ago. Kind, yes. A hero, even. A savior of worlds. But he suffered losses which hurt him. Now he prefers isolation to the possibility of pain's return. Kindly choose a word to indicate your understanding of this."
Another pause before Clara smiled again. "Men."
Something had changed in Vastra's eyes, and she leaned forwards while she spoke.
"We are the Doctor's friends," she said slowly. "We assist him in his isolation, but that does not mean we approve of it. So, a test for you. Give me a message for the Doctor. Tell him all about the snow and what fresh danger you believe it presents, and above all, explain why he should help you."
Clara leaned forwards eagerly, but Vastra reached across the desk and placed a finger over her lips.
"But do it in one word." She smirked as Clara's mouth hung open slightly as her words died in her throat. Gently, she tapped it shut. "You're thinking it is impossible that such a word exists, or that you could even find it. Let's see if the gods are with you."
The Doctor angrily set his book down and yanked the phone off of the receiver as it began to ring.
"Yes?" he snapped. "What is it? I'm trying to read."
"Miss Clara, and her concerns about the snow," Vastra said on the other end of the line. "I gave her the one word test."
The Doctor sighed, pulling off his glasses and glaring at the TARDIS ceiling.
"That's always pointless," he muttered. "What did she say?" No reply, and his temper flared as he grew impatient. "Well? Well?"
"Pond."
He froze, and his gaze landed on the rounded glasses in his hand.
Pond.
Pond.
Pond.