A/N: Thank you for all the kind responses! Here's Chapter 2, very post-Trenzalore and post-Trenzalore recovery. Clara knows who the man in the box was (the Doctor obv) and they're tracking down Cal. Also this fic will be entirely in past tense, as if Clara was relaying the story for you. Will open chapters with a setting and time; later a POV as well. We're in third person for now. For the sake of this story, I've changed Clara a little. We all know what Trenzalore was like for her - my GOD there are so many post-Trenzalore fics out there – it left her much, much older inside, a good deal more suspicious, and as sassy as ever. Enjoy! Thank you themadmanhopes, RandomVictorian, thecrimevortex and everyone else for the messages, ideas and support.
The TARDIS
"Where is she then? Cal Aima," Clara asked the Doctor, testing out the name on her tongue. He took a casual sip from his chipped porcelain mug of hot tea and shrugged.
"It's got to be short for something..."
He didn't reply, only gave her a peaceful smile, and she quirked an eyebrow. "What's gotten you so chilled out?" she demanded with a smirk, and he kept on grinning. "Well," he began, "we're alive and safe for one."
Clara fought to keep her face straight. 'Alive and safe' was a legitimate achievement for him.
"And we've not received any distress calls," he added with a note of pride. "That's all your wonderful work, is it?" she quipped amusedly. He nudged her in the ribs playfully. "Maybe a little bit of yours too," he told her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She smiled at the contact and moved to the general information archives monitor.
"There she is!" Clara cried, tapping her finger to the screen excitedly. The Doctor nearly spilled his tea running over to her side of the console.
3 results for your search 'Cal Aima'
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1. Calamity Aima, Clemency, Hedonia, Aima Galaxy, Subsection 4, Inner Universe, May 26th, 2013
2. Calamity Aima, London, England, Earth, Solar Galaxy, Subsection 4, Inner Universe, December 25th, 1892
3. Calamity Aima, The Royal High Dalek Asylum, Dalek Asylum, Subsection 23, Outer Universe, January 5th, 3010
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"Don't tell me," she began sassily, "she jumped into your timeline too. Or she's another time travelling alien. Or both." The Doctor tried to laugh, but his eyes were glued to her name, not her locations. Clara noticed.
"Calamity..." whispered the Doctor. He sounded like he was going to cry. "Why? Why would you name your child something so horrible, so specific and horrible? Condemning them to a life of an outcast... It's the worst life you can give to anyone."
Clara took his hand by way of soothing him. If she remembered right, he definitely knew what being an outsider was like.
"It could mean something different over there-"
"They speak English," he spat, the bitter tones knifing the air between them.
Clara retreated her hand hastily. He really was taking this poor girl's fate to heart, wasn't he?
"Yeah well... We can be there to cheer her up, surely? Maybe she's happy with her name. Maybe that's a cool thing over there! You know, like all those emo bands I listened to in my teen years that I was telling you about the other day. Everyone's probably got a name like Dark Flames or Agony Guts, something crazy like that. Maybe it's just one of those planets."
He couldn't help but smile. The Hedonia he remembered was nothing like that.
"Everyone has the same surname there. Aima. The Greek word for 'blood'. After the galaxy they're in. Relations are determined by DNA testing at birth; your blood information gets stored up in this massive information bubble, and it draws out possible matches. From there the natives can usually decide who's a cousin and who's just a mate," he explained. "They're a fairly advanced species – compared to humans, anyway," he added after she raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"So..." the Doctor began in his best mysterious-old-man voice, "which Cal do you want to meet?"
Clara pondered this for a moment. A time jumper; of course. Trust the Ponds to send them on one last goose chase through time and space. She pursed her lips in thought briefly, then tapped number 1. The TARDIS began to groan and shake as they shot off through the time vortex.
They clung to the console with identical grins. "So why'd you pick that one?" the Doctor asked loudly over the machinery. She shrugged in reply. "It was the same subsection as Earth – that makes it like a parallel universe or something, yeah?!" she yelled back to him. He shook his head with considerable effort; the TARDIS was just crossing the gap between the Solar and Aima galaxies, and didn't they all know it. "No," he began loudly, as the TARDIS began to slow down, "we're only crossing galaxies, same universe. But you're right, it is parallel. Except Hedonia is only the size of..." He trailed off, trying to find a good area to compare with that she would understand. The TARDIS landed with an audible thud, flashing on and off the planet until it finally materialised in full. "About the size of Australia," explained the Doctor cheerfully as he threw open the big blue doors.
"Welcome to Hedonia! The planet of bountiful wealth, excellent hygiene and kind-hearted inhabitants!" he cried, and they were immediately pelted in a shower of small, sharp stones. Mocking laughs came out from all around them, and the Doctor scratched his head in confusion. The street before them was spotless and smooth, as were the walls of the buildings – it was like a fairy tale, and the people's behaviour seemed strangely uncouth for such a lovely environment. The city's "Who do ya think ya are?" a gruff bearded man sneered at them in a heavy Chicago accent. "This ain't no tourist planet! Go back to where you came from, and off with the lady and your little box. Before they both get taken." The Doctor frowned at the emphasis on the last word, not sure if the man meant it as a threat. "What do you mean taken? This planet is a civil-" He was cut off by the man rolling his eyes and laughing almost manically. "You're not from 'round here, clearly. Well, I might as well tell ya. Hedonia's definitely peaceful, ain't no wars or anythin' like that – but the people... The people are absolutely feral. Folks around here don't care who they gotta stab in the back to get the upper hand." He finished with a derisive snort. "Especially if it involves money," he added with a dark note in his voice. Clara bit her lip. Why would Rory associate with people like this? He was definitely a peaceful old man when I knew him. And the Doctor wouldn't associate with people who associated with those kinds of people, she pondered to herself. "Excuse me – sir," Clara began, "do you know anyone by the name of Calamity Aima?" The man's eyes lit up in recognition. " 'Course I do! Who doesn't?" he told them. "My wife loves her makeup shows," he added somewhat enthusiastically. "So she's a famous makeup artist then?" Clara asked curiously. The man nodded vigorously, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "She's a very pretty little thing. Looks just like you, come to think of it."
He leaned back to a reasonable distance. "You another relative of hers? She 'bout the same age you are, I think. Unless you got them fillers for your face. She about 24 now, very successful," he told her with an unexpected glow in his eyes. "Oh – she's my niece," he added hurriedly at the Doctor's worried expression. "I'm not a sasaeng if that's what you're worried about. Heck no, lady. Anyway, she's just come back from recording, probably in the shower. But you two can come over and wait for her I guess. Come on then," he said, leading them down a couple of small streets to where her house lay among the metropolitan sprawl.
"Wait," the Doctor told Clara quietly as he scanned the entrance into the large white-and-gold double story home. Three soft beeps were emitted from his sonic, and she smiled like she knew what that meant. The Doctor froze to the spot. "Excuse me, mister..." he began, and the man nodded.
"Ah, yes. The names Neil. Neil Broadwin. Nice to meet ya."
"I'm the Doctor, and this is Clara. I'm a Time Lord, she is one very impossible human – or at least technically – and we travel throughout time and space together. How about that for an intro?"
The Doctor shook Neil's hand vigorously and Clara smiled, but continued to stare at the Doctor. He was getting way too into big entrances. It had been that way ever since they had agreed not to introduce themselves, by their real names at least, to anyone until they were deemed trustworthy. The distraction was temporary however, and he proceeded to scan the house again. Another three beeps and the Doctor smacked the small device. A sound almost like a whine of protest, and another three, slightly louder beeps.
He walked briskly into the modern, frighteningly sterile house, Clara running to keep up with his long strides. They could hear the shower running from across the enormous hall. "What is it, Doctor?" she whispered.
"Why are you whispering? Anyway, I just scanned the house for life signs, and... I got three, Clara. Three. Not four. Three!" he squeaked.
"Doctor, are you scared? Should I be scared?" asked Clara quietly. There was none of her usual teasing tone in her voice. It was a genuine question.
"I... I think it's a trap, Clara," he whispered back to her, and took her hand firmly. She squeezed back in response. "I always thought he was a shady fellow," she agreed. They both turned simultaneously to Neil, who was just grinding coffee beans. "Coffee, anyone?" the bearded man asked kindly, and Clara's grip on the Doctor's hand tightened as they both answered in unison, "No thanks."
"Do you think he's done something to that coffee?" she asked the Doctor quietly, but it was mostly rhetorical. "Cough," he told her. She jerked backwards in confusion. "Just cough," he sighed, "cough pretty loud for about five seconds, I need to check it. It's important, Clara. We need to figure out how long we can stay here and if this man is reliable. Cough."
She inhaled deeply, and let out a series of hacking, phlegm-filled coughs that would've made a veteran smoker cringe. The Doctor quickly buzzed the sonic as casually as he could at the coffee machine, and he tapped her shoulder so she knew to stop coughing. "Nothing wrong with it," he told her with a smile.
The shower stopped, and the Doctor practically ran to knock on the bathroom door. Clara swatted his shoulder. "Give her some time! She's a lady, and a makeup artist at that. After she towels off, she got to get dressed, dry her hair, exfoliate, cleanse, tone, moisturise, apply serum-"
The door was ripped open promptly by a tiny woman with long, luscious black hair and deep sapphire eyes in a hastily tied bathrobe. The Doctor instinctually covered his eyes with a hand and offered the other to greet her. "HiI'mtheDoctorsorryaboutthisummRorysentmeandClara tofindyouandI'msorryyoucancontinueonwithwhateveryo uweredoing." Cal laughed at his anxious manner and shook his hands. "Calamity Aima, but I'm sure you knew that if Rory sent you. He was always so... thorough," she said somewhat cryptically, and the two time travellers shared a look. "Clara, it's so nice to finally meet you," Cal added brightly, but Clara didn't reciprocate the warmth. "Finally?" asked Clara with a somewhat cold smile. Cal nodded. "Sorry," she explained, "Females are telepathic on Hedonia, and all your Time Lord Doctor over here has been thinking about is how pretty you are for the past minute and a half. Precious, since he just met me." She winked cheekily to indicate the joke, and the Doctor laughed awkwardly, removing his hand from his eyes.
"Anyway, you should probably get dressed-"
"I probably should, yeah. Nice to meet you both."
The door clicked shut rather abruptly. "Is it just me," Clara began, "or is she a bit-"
"Strange? Definitely."