*Hey everyone! Chapter 2 time! As you can guess from the title, I wanted to revisit the proposal, because I didn't simply want to skip over it. I also want to hint at things to come, specifically with Annabelle. I want to drag her character through the ringer and that starts here. The response to Healing so far has been overwhelmingly positive and I want to thank everyone who has already dedicated themselves to this story, with all the follows, favourites and reviews that have been coming in but thanks to anyone who is just reading it. Please keep reviewing, I value all of your input. Speak soon. The Potter Doctor*
"Holy crap!" Annabelle gasped, pouring over Clara's hand. "Look at the size of that fucking rock! Clara Oswald, he has well and truly outdone himself here."
"I know right," Clara beamed, examining her ring once again herself. Clara loved it so much she just wanted to look at it all day long. "He did an ace job."
"How was the proposal?" Annabelle gushed. "Oh my God, I bet it was so fucking romantic and everything?"
"It was incredible," Clara replied. "Truly. Anyway, now you know and we're going properly public on Friday night. You'd better make it Annabelle, everyone's going to be there. Ten's bringing Martha, the Ponds are going to be there, not to mention Jack and the Doctor's little work crew."
Annabelle was smiling but Clara could see right through it. Clara was engaged, Ten and Martha were engaged. The Ponds had been married for what seemed like forever and even Vastra and Jenny had tied the knot. Annabelle hadn't had a relationship for two years and what little action she got normally made her regret more than anything else. Clara felt pangs of sympathy for Annabelle. She was lonely. Annabelle's eyes had clouded over for a moment and then she returned her attention to the ring.
"Duh!" Annabelle grinned. "Of course I'll be there," but her heart wasn't in it and Clara rubbed her friend's shoulder affectionately. "Did you tell them?" The tone of her voice told Clara exactly who Annabelle was referring to.
"I visited Tom on Sunday," Clara replied quietly. "I told him and showed him the ring. I like to think he appreciated that I went to see him and tell him in person." She still missed him so much. The Doctor had gone with her to visit her and Clara wanted more than almost anything for him to see what his sacrifice had given her. There was only one person she wanted to be around more. "We were in Blackpool for my dad's anniversary do last night, so we got up early this morning to see mum nice and early before we drove back. Luckily I had a free morning."
"That explains it," Annabelle murmured and Clara shot her an odd look. "You've been crying," Annabelle explained and Clara smiled wistfully. The day she could visit her mum without crying was the day that she gave up hope. The day she lost faith in herself.
"How was your dad's thing?" Annabelle asked, trying to uplift the conversation and this earned her a snort from Clara.
"They're getting divorced!" Clara laughed and Annabelle paused for a moment to shoot her an incredulous look, before laughing along with her and for a while, neither of them were able to stop.
Clara was woken by the smell of frying bacon and she took a great big, long sniff, inhaling the beautiful smell. It was mixed with something else, she realised and took another long, engulfing breath. Pancakes. Bacon pancakes. Her favourite. He was really spoiling her this morning. There was already a mug of tea waiting for her as she padded into their spacious living room. The kitchen was attached by a counter and the Doctor was in the kitchen, flipping pancakes with one hand and frying bacon with the other. He was the clumsiest person that Clara had ever met, yet he still managed to cook with complete precision. He was a marvel. And he was her marvel. Clara sipped her tea as he joined her, two plates piled high with bacon pancakes. Clara licked her lips and kissed him, a long slow kiss that lasted as long as she could make it before the temptation to dive into her breakfast kicked in and she started shovelling bacon and batter into her mouth, savouring the taste of heaven.
"I wuv wou!" she said, her mouth full and the Doctor pulled a face before rolling his eyes and tucking in himself. "What's the occasion?" Clara asked suspiciously as she swallowed and the Doctor raised his eyebrows unconvincingly. He was up to something, she knew it. He was terrible at lying to her.
"Nothing," he insisted, but Clara wasn't buying it. "I was just thinking we can have a lazy day, just like we used to. Disney films, takeaway and we can stay on this sofa all day. Drag the blankets through, settle in front of the TV and devour five cheese and meat feast pizzas. What do you say?"
"It sounds perfect," Clara giggled. "All three Toy Story's, followed by Tangled, Frozen and Finding Nemo to finish off?"
"That sounds magical," the Doctor replied. "I've already got them lined up in order."
He was too good, Clara smirked as she went to fetch the duvets while he popped in Toy Story. They snuggled up, intertwined as the film kicked off, still devouring their bacon pancakes and sipping on tea. At some point, their hands had locked and Clara found herself fully of bacon, lying against the Doctor and all was well with the world. Every time he kissed the top of her forehead, or fondly played with her hair, she felt like the luckiest woman in the world, her entire world span and she found herself unable to remove him from her thoughts.
They made it until the end of Toy Story III before lust took over and they had to stop for a break. The Doctor ordered all the fried chicken in the world for a late lunch and they were starving and worn out when it arrived, so they devoured it all and then picked the bones clean before settling back down to watch Tangled. By the time they reached Finding Nemo, Clara was upset, because once Finding Nemo was over, that would be the end of the day and they'd have to stop. The Doctor ordered pizza, which would arrive halfway through the film and they cracked open a bottle of wine. So, just like the good old days, they snuggled up under the covers and watched their favourite film with wine, pizza and most importantly, each other. It had been the perfect day and as the film finished, Clara turned sadly to look at the Doctor.
"Now what?" she asked, almost sadly, but too elated to be truly upset.
"Now, I need to ask you something important," the Doctor informed her, before reaching down the back of the sofa. Clara raised an eyebrow. She'd been on edge whenever he asked her questions like that for months, but she'd long since given up trying to convince herself that he would propose. It was normally whenever he asked her to a fancy restaurant that she freaked out now. But when the Doctor pulled out a small, blue box and had slipped off of the sofa, sinking to one knee, that Clara let out a scream of delight, tears rushing down her cheeks. She was sobbing, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone express them in word format. The Doctor was saying the words she'd been dreaming he'd say, his face the most beautiful thing in the universe. She was so transfixed on his face, so transfixed on his words, that she hadn't even glanced at the ring.
And then her eyes fell onto it and suddenly there were two most beautiful things in the universe. She was sat, eyes glued to the most beautiful diamond ring that she had ever seen in her entire life. His hand was quivering and she managed to tear her eyes off of the ring long enough to back at his face, the other most beautiful thing in the universe. And the word yes tumbled out of her mouth. It was the only thing she had been thinking since the moment she'd seen the box, even before that. She'd pictured him proposing many times. Every single time, it had been more spectacular, more bombastic. She had expected literal fireworks, maybe a horse-drawn carriage. She had been terrified of what wicked scheme the Doctor would come up with. In truth, this was so much more than she could have possibly hoped for. The Doctor was a spectacular person, that much was true, but he was also intimate and the best moments of their relationship had also been those intimate ones. And today had been intimate. It had been loving and tender and everything that Clara could ever have asked for from a life with the Doctor. So the fact that he had proposed at the end of it was perfect. She couldn't think of a more fitting proposal. This had eclipsed all her vivid ideas.
"Oh my God," she gasped eventually, before falling into the Doctor's arms and kissing him for so long and so hard, that she found it impossible to imagine herself ever doing anything else for the rest of her life.
Henry came to see Clara on Friday to tell her that he'd started on her latest recommendation. Clara liked Henry, he was a very bright young man and she was more than happy to recommend books to him, talk with him about his general life and how he was getting on and help him decide on universities. In turn, she let him into her life a little. He'd met the Doctor a few times, when he'd pitched out of the blue, as he often did, to take her for lunch because he was bored or to drop off something she'd left behind. She was happy to talk to Henry about her life and past, mainly because there was nothing that was really ashamed of anymore. She left some of the gorier details of her and the Doctor's university exploits out of it (being burned alive, nearly raped and having him almost kill himself were the main absentees) but her life had shaped who she was and she was happy. When she'd first met the Doctor, she had been damaged beyond repair. But now, she was healing.
So when Henry asked her about why she'd become a teacher, she had been frank and honest. She'd told him that she lost someone, a very good friend. Probably her best friend. And he'd told her that she would make an amazing teacher and that drove Clara on. Of course, he had been right. Tom had always been right about her. Whether it was what particular tea she'd pick, what hair colour suited her best or what career she should go into. Even from beyond the grave, she could imagine the smug grin on his face when he realised she had gone into teaching.
Henry looked upset that Friday so Clara stretched out. She knew that Henry would be likely to tell her than any other staff member and, more than that, she felt a personal level of empathy and worry for the boy. Clara was a naturally empathetic person, something she had always fought. Now, being a teacher, it fitted her instincts perfectly. But when she had asked Henry what was wrong, his response shocked her.
"Miss Oswald, I think I'm falling in love with you."
Well that was not good. That was about as far away from good as Clara could possibly have hoped for. She stammered for a moment and Henry looked forlornly at her. Clara took a deep breath and paced for a moment. She was in shit. Deep shit. If anyone found out about this… She kicked herself mentally. Henry was probably losing his mind over this, the poor kid. She sat down facing him and took another deep breath.
"I'm sorry!" Henry blurted. "I mean, at first I just thought you were an amazing teacher, because well let's face it, you are. But it ended up being more than that. You're young, you're beautiful and you have such an intimate knowledge of so many books…"
"Henry," Clara took yet another deep breath but she didn't feel any calmer. "I'm engaged. And I love the Doctor more than anything. I'm sorry if I did anything to make you feel…"
"No," Henry said suddenly, shaking his head and Clara felt relief rush through her. "Let's not mistake each other here Miss Oswald. This is a schoolboy crush, which you didn't do anything to encourage. I mean, I didn't even realise it was happening. But I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces when I saw the ring. You didn't do anything wrong and I don't want you to get into trouble. I just wanted to let you know that it happened and that I won't be coming to you outside of teaching hours anymore. It's not appropriate and I need to find someone my own age."
Clara felt more sighs of relief escape her. That was a potentially disastrous situation avoided. The last thing she needed was an inquiry. She was a young and attractive teacher; the second people started asking questions, her head would be on a chopping block. She needed a glass of water and Henry was still looking at her.
"I'm still here if you need to talk about anything," Clara said carefully, choosing her words. "I agree that it wouldn't be appropriate for me to talk to you outside of lessons unless you have a genuine problem with work, in which case you can always come to me. And I'm still here for UCAS and stuff. But we can't keep regularly meeting at lunchtimes or questions will be asked, especially if people learn of your feelings for me. I should really tell my boss, but I'm not going to," Clara added and Henry breathed a sigh of relief. "You're a teenager and the last thing you need is rumours shooting around the school. When I was your age, I was a state. If you need to talk about anything, I am here, but I'd recommend just finding someone your own age. Love is a fickle thing Henry, believe me, I know. I thought I was in love once, and it was a terrible mistake." Jessie. Clara shuddered at the thought. He smiled tearfully at her.
"Have a good evening Miss," he said. "I'm sure your friends will be so happy to hear you're engaged. If I could just ask, how did he do it?"
"Over pizza and Finding Nemo," Clara replied with a smile. She caught herself. Henry was the first person she'd told the exact circumstances to. Henry smiled at this and then he was gone. Clara turned back to the blackboard. She'd been stupid not to notice earlier. Despite what she told Henry, she did tell her supervisor, terrified that if she didn't, she could lose her job. Her supervisor smiled and laughed when Clara told her, explaining that this sort of thing happened every now and then and as long as they only ever met in the classroom, which had CCTV, then Clara would have no problems at all. She also promised that nobody else needed to know unless the situation changed. Clara was relieved. That was a load off of her mind.
That evening was incredible. The Ponds already knew of course but they still pretended to be surprised and Rory almost choking on his food as he went way too far to pretend was the highlight of Clara's evening, once Jack had slapped Rory on the back so hard that Rory almost choked up his whole meal. It was good to see David, affectionately known as Ten, as Clara had a good relationship with the Doctor's cousin. Martha was sporting her own engagement ring and Clara felt a bit guilty when Martha compared them, as hers was about half the size. Ten had muttered something about his cousin being a show off and Clara had laughed at that.
Annabelle showed up, but she was late, her dirty blonde hair was unkempt and she barely smiled the whole time. Clara had known her friend was having a hard time, but was it worse than she had suspected? After a few glasses of wine, however, Annabelle was back to her usual bubbly self and the evening carried on raucously. Jack flirted with everyone in the room, despite the fact that only Annabelle and Strax were single. Even Clara found herself blushing, as she always did when Jack kissed her hand and shot her a devilish wink. The fact that he did almost the exact same manoeuvre on her new fiancé made her feel both better and less special. Jack had that effect on, well, everyone.
As the evening drifted to an end and the Doctor offered people their spare room and sofas, only Jack and Annabelle ended up staying the night. They shared the guest bedroom and Clara had a strong suspicion that Jack was going to spend the night fending off a very drunken blonde. Assuming he wanted to of course, but the Doctor had told Clara not to worry, Jack was more sensible than that.
When Clara interrogated Annabelle the next morning, she was relieved to hear that nothing happened, although Jack insisted that Annabelle was all over her, in his most playful tone that made it clear that nothing could have been further from the truth. Jack got on his way quickly the next morning, as he had business to attend to, but Annabelle, who was struggling her way through her second novel, stayed for breakfast. When she eventually left, Clara's anxiety for her friend was only partly satiated.
"Well, the soon to be Mr Oswald," she teased. "What now?"
"Well the soon to be Mrs Doctor," he replied. "We have the rest of our lives to work it out."