Thank you for the first reviews :D Looks like the Doctor and the Impossible Girl get along marvelously. But what about John and Clara?

Chapter 2

There was no polite way to express how much he really didn't want to deal with Clara Oswald right now. John had been to her office about five times in the past few months and each time she had refused his novel in the most arrogant of ways. He had tried to be nice at first, but his patience was running out. Maybe today she would finally accept his writing, after all, it was the 5th version he would present to her.

John knocked and entered the room without waiting for her sign, obviously catching Clara off guard as she almost jumped up from her desk. The smile that had been on her face before swiftly faded away and was replaced by the deep frown she usually reserved for him.

"You do realize that knocking doesn't actually do much good if you still barge in without waiting to be invited inside," she spat at him, the lines on her face deepening.

"Yes," John hissed in reply as he stepped closer, "But I'm in a hurry and you don't seem to be busy, so let's get this over with."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Charming as always, I see. Come on, hand it over." She outstretched her hand and John handed her the first five pages of his book, along with the rest of it on a flash drive.

He was about to sit down and wait for her to finish reading, but Clara dropped the pages after only a few seconds.

"No," she said brusquely.

John scoffed. "You can't have read more than the first sentence."

"I don't need to read more than the first sentence. It's crap," Clara leaned back in her seat and stared at him. There was something about her pose that was just daring him to fight back and yet he felt the anger rise up inside him, rendering him speechless for a moment. He had known Clara Oswald was a stupid bitch, but she always managed to surprise him by being worse than he would have thought.

"I'm certain that if you read more than just the first sentence, you would change your opinion," John replied as nicely as possible.

"Science fiction is dead, Mr Smith. No one wants to read yet another novel about the colonisation of foreign planets or-"

"Ha!" he exclaimed and raised his hand to point at her, grinning broadly, "It's not about that. My book is about time travel."

Clara snorted in reply. "That's actually worse," she paused for a moment, "Please, do us both a favour. Take your book and go home. Find a different hobby. It's time for you to acknowledge that writing just isn't your thing and that's okay. Some people were born to do it, others weren't."

John opened his mouth to reply. He wanted so much to tell her the truth, to tell her that he had already successfully published three novels and that one of her colleagues was dying for him to finish the fourth. He could write and he could do it well, but Clara Oswald would never understand that. If she didn't understand science fiction, she sure as hell wouldn't understand erotica. No, that woman was boring and frigid.

"I demand a different editor," he said instead, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "You obviously suck at your job, so I want to talk to someone else."

In response Clara simply laughed. "Mr Smith, I can assure you, I am very good at my job, which is the reason I keep turning you down. Also this isn't a buffet. You can't just pick and choose – unfortunately, or otherwise I'd have sent you straight to another colleague. You've been assigned to me, so you're staying with me. End of discussion."

John inhaled sharply.

"Save your breath," Clara told him, "I know, it hurts to be told the truth, but you're just not any good."

He snorted. "We'll see about that, Miss Oswald," John said and was about to turn around when he suddenly thought of something else, "Oh, and about the truth. You're right, it does hurt, but I'm an unpublished author until I do get published. You will always be a stupid cow."

John spun around on his heels and marched out of her office before Clara could throw anything else at him and slammed the door shut behind him.

He exhaled sharply once he was outside, glad to have finally gotten this meeting over with, if not with the intended result, and yet he was more furious than before. John thought that he should find it funny because he was a published author already and Clara Oswald calling him untalented was just further proof that she really wasn't as good at her job as she claimed. He had talent and he knew it, but he also had to convince Clara of that. Maybe at the next attempt. Maybe after he had rewritten the beginning of his story once again and maybe he should add a couple of reviews of recently published science fiction novels to show her that it wasn't as dead as Clara Oswald thought.

His anger slowly began to fade as he walked along the corridors and his mind suddenly wandered back to the Impossible Girl. She worked inside this very building somewhere. He could have walked past her office on the way to see Clara Oswald. He could have met her already and John wouldn't even know it. As he passed one of the employees on the corridor, John tried to recall everything he knew about her. The Impossible Girl was 30 years old and she was single, but that seemed to apply to about a third of the entire staff and he had no idea what she looked like. Was she a brunette? A blonde? Tall? Short? It was hopeless. He would never recognize her.

All of a sudden John came to an abrupt halt as a woman bumped into him when she darted out of the ladies' room.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," she blurted out, her Scottish accent heavy.

John looked up, straight into her pretty face that was framed by long, red hair. She was around thirty. It could be her.

"D-don't worry," John spluttered and smiled at her, "No major damage."

"I should just watch where I'm going," the woman said and raised her hand to stroke a strand of hair out of her face. It was then that John noticed the wedding ring on her finger. She wasn't his Impossible Girl even though for a moment John had almost hoped she was.

He watched as the woman excused herself and continued her stride along the corridor and John sighed. He wanted to know who the Impossible Girl was and he wanted to meet her.