Gosh, I'm loving this already. This will be so much fun to write.

Thanks for the review :)

By the way, just a little funny thing a want to share with you guys. When I was talking to a friend about what I should call this story and I suggested "Family Ties", her immediate reaction was to say: "I wear family ties now. Family ties are cool." Thanks Kristin for giving me a huge laughing fit :D

Chapter 2

The TARDIS will think of something! Clara had never been on good terms with the Doctor's TARDIS, but this was an outrage. This was the kind of thing that could only happen if you let a machine do the thinking. Not a single sane person would've thought this a good idea. How was Clara going to do this?

She had to admit, the story wasn't exactly a bad one. The Doctor, now called John Smith, was a journalist, writing a rather modern advice column for the Sunday Telegraph and he was pretty good at it. He had been married before to Professor River Song, who had died giving birth to their daughter Isabel. A completely overwhelmed John Smith had hired Clara as a governess shortly after and married her five years later.

Being a sort of stepmother Clara could handle. But playing his wife? She could not see a single way how this could possibly turn out okay.

Alright, Clara thought to herself, Let's just pretend I am a spy. Spies have fake marriages, right? And spies are pretty cool. And if I play my role well this will all be over very, very soon.

"I made you some breakfast," the Doctor pointed to the tray in front of her. And Clara had to admit that it looked rather delicious. Ham and eggs with rosemary and a pot of fresh, steaming coffee.

"Thanks. . . darling," she added uncertain. Clara looked at the Doctor and he just seemed happy. Not confused, not baffled. This was so weird. She sipped her coffee and started on the breakfast, mainly to avoid saying anything else. She hadn't felt particularly hungry but it was really tasty. Clara would've never thought the Doctor could be a good cook.

"I'm afraid you'll have to hurry. You have to get to school. Unfortunately I'm meeting with my editor today. But I think the two of you will be fine," the Doctor said and started looking through his wardrobe.

School. Right. Clara was a teacher. Wait, no. She wasn't a teacher in this world. Clara started to feel a little sick when she realized that in this reality she was a stay at home mother and wife. Oh no, could this get any worse?

"School?" Clara asked.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry I can't be there on her first day but my editor says it's something very important and I really need to be there."

"Oh, right. Yeah, we'll be fine," now Clara remembered. It was Isabel's first day of school. She had just turned seven a few weeks ago.

The Doctor, who had now apparently found what he wanted to wear, began to take off his pyjama pants. Clara still sat in bed, horrified at was she was about to see in a few seconds.

"I should get ready then. Don't want to be late on the first day, right?" she jumped out of bed and almost ran for the door without looking back. Clara stopped behind the closed bedroom door and fought the urge to bang her head against the wall really hard. How was she going to survive this?

As she made her way to the bathroom she couldn't help but notice how nice at least the upstairs of the house looked. She knew in her head that they were in a typical London house located in Morden. Not the poshest area, but quiet and affordable.

Luckily the house wasn't decorated in the typical, horrible 60s fashion. The bedroom she had just left was mainly white with antique furniture. The floor was a dark, slightly greyish wood, probably walnut and the corridor walls were grey with white borders to the floor and ceiling. Clara noticed the old school photographs that lined the walls. Pictures of a wedding that never really took place, although Clara had to admit that the short, white lace dress suited her. There were also photos of the three of them, looking happy, like an ordinary family.

Clara went into the bathroom to freshen up and made her hair into a bun. She found a bottle of Chanel N° 5 on the shelf. Why not?, she thought to herself and put it on. Still in her nightgown she went back to the bedroom and discovered with relief that the Doctor was not there any more. The sight of her wardrobe lifted her spirits a little. It was filled with lots and lots of pretty dresses and skirts and blouses and blazers and she had a really hard time choosing. Clara eventually decided on a black polka dot petticoat dress that was a bit too long for her short figure and ended just below her knees and a pair of simple black pumps. She looked at herself in the mirror with satisfaction. At least the clothes were something she could work with.

However Clara got a nasty surprise when she started looking for tights because there were none. All she could find were several garter belts in different colours and stockings, something she had so far considered sexy underwear for special occasions only. And Clara, who had never worn stockings before, had absolutely no idea how to put them on.

ooo

The Doctor was having coffee at the breakfast table, reading a newspaper article to Isabel, when Clara came downstairs. He couldn't help but notice that his wife was looking particularly lovely today although he was a bit irritated that apparently she had forgotten about their second wedding anniversary. Never mind that, he was still looking forward to tonight. He had made reservations at their favourite restaurant and hired a babysitter for Isabel. Nothing was going to get in the way of the perfect evening he had planned for the two of them. And maybe, after talking to his editor, they would have one more thing to celebrate.

"Are you ready for your big day?" Clara asked Isabel, who was nervously nibbling on her toasted bread. The little girl jumped up an hugged Clara.

"Yes," she replied eagerly, "They will teach me to read so I can read the newspaper to Daddy soon."

"I'm looking forward to it," the Doctor replied smiling and sipped his coffee.

He felt grateful all of a sudden. There was a time when he had thought he would never be happy again but seeing his daughter and his beautiful young wife, all he could think about was how lucky he had been. It all seemed almost too good to be true.