*Hey guys, bit late on the ball today but here we are, again. I've had some great responses to the first two chapters so as ever, thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favourited, reviewed and read, please keep on doing so, your feedback means the world to me. This chapter is going to introduce a few new strands, as well as a fan favourite and sees the return of a character who left during Damaged and is going to mix things up a bit, so I hope you enjoy it! See you tomorrow! The Potter Doctor*
Clara loved holidays. It was the end of July and school had finished at long last. She lay in bed for what seemed like an age, fully aware of the fact that she had no reason whatsoever to get up. It was a glorious feeling, knowing that she had six weeks of lie-ins ahead of her, even though she did have quite a bit of work to do over the holidays. The Doctor nuzzled against her neck with his chin and she let out a giggle. He shot her a sleepy smile and ran a trail of kisses up her neck to her earlobe. Clara held back a shudder as he nibbled on it and shifted ever so slightly closer to him. She leaned up and kissed his lips and then his arms were around her again and they snuggled.
"What time are you meeting Ten?" the Doctor asked her shoulder, his voice muffled by her flesh. "Or was it Annabelle first?"
"I'm meeting Annabelle at that adorable little tea shop we went to the other week," Clara clarified. "That's at 1pm, followed by a late lunch with David at 2:30 at Papa's. Did you get that proposal finished?" she asked in her teacher's voice, hoping to make the Doctor feel like a naughty child and judging by his reaction, she'd succeeded. She'd known he'd not got it done, she was just making him say it. "It has to be done by 6."
"I'm aware," he said through slightly gritted teeth. "It'll only take me 6 or 7 hours, what time is it now?"
"About half 11," Clara replied with a smirk and he swore, leaping out of bed and throwing open the bedroom door, gunning for his study. Clara snorted and pulled herself back under the covers, counting down from five in her head. When she hit zero, he staggered back into the bedroom, looking decidedly unamused as Clara held back her laughter.
"Very funny," he grumbled, climbing back into bed. "It's not even 9."
Clara's giggling was cut short as he rolled on top of her, pinning her underneath him and she squealed as he dived for ribcage, an onslaught of tickling occurring as Clara screamed until she could barely breathe, her ribs caving under the tickles. She swore at the Doctor as he eventually showed mercy and rolled off of her, Clara's breathing heavy and ragged as if he'd been doing more than just tickling her. She flicked his ear affectionately and he laughed, a beautiful sound that Clara still loved to hear. She pulled the covers over her naked body and smiled at the Doctor, as he put his arms around her again.
Eventually, they had to get up and face the world. Clara had friends to meet and exam papers to mark and the Doctor had a proposal to finish before that evening. They showered as quickly as they could, which still took far longer than necessary and then they dressed in a similar fashion. Clara loved the little home that she shared with the Doctor. It felt like love, all the rooms painted with a red hue, except the bathrooms which the Doctor demanded were painted blue. The living room was huge, with four sofas, a giant television and every console the Doctor could get his hands on. The kitchen was conjoined, with a giant table inside and plenty of room to manoeuvre. There was a downstairs toilet and then upstairs, were the bedrooms and the Doctor's study. Clara and the Doctor had an en-suite bathroom attached to their massive love-nest, as the Doctor called it. There was also another bathroom which wasn't attached to the spare room, which always made Clara nervous she'd stumble into someone showering when they stayed over. The Doctor pointed out that that had always been a problem at uni, but that was a long time ago, Clara stressed.
They lived on the outskirts of London, the school Clara worked out was within walking distance and if the Doctor was ever called into his office it would be less than an hour on the train, although he rarely if ever was. Vastra and Jenny and Strax lived close, within ten minutes and they were over fairly regularly working on something or another. Clara had to remind herself of that now that the holidays had kicked in. On more than one occasion she'd ended up flashing the trio by forgetting it wasn't just her and the Doctor in the house. Vastra and Jenny had tried to avert their eyes quickly, Strax had just looked decidedly unimpressed and not even realised Clara was there half the time.
The little teahouse was called Donna's and was owned by a lovely woman in her 40s named Donna. She had fiery red hair and a wicked sense of humour and she loved bossing around the shop workers, despite her cheery nature and good demeanour. Clara met Annabelle just after 1, and the other girl was looking worse for wear. Clara held a hand to her face and shot her a quick look up and down.
"Have you been eating properly?" Clara asked quietly, her face deadly serious as she stared at Annabelle. All the cheeriness had gone from Annabelle's face and she was stirring her tea for far longer than was necessary, staring at it as if her future was sitting among the murky brown liquid. It was several moments before she spoke and Clara had been about to try and different tact.
"I've not really had the money," Annabelle said, trying not to sound pitiful. "Rent's getting a bit tight, so I've been living off Pot Noodle for a couple of weeks now. The royalties are still coming in from the first book but I really need to get this next book finished. The publisher wants it by the end of August or…"
"Or they'll terminate the contract," Clara finished, unable to keep the worry out of her voice. Annabelle shot her a look to confirm the bad news. Clara bit her lip. Annabelle was still stirring her tea, and her other fist was clenched. "Well how close are you?" Clara asked hopefully, knowing that the answer wasn't going to be a good one.
Annabelle made a noise somewhere between a snort of laughter and a strangled cry of anguish. Clara put on her most sympathetic teaching face and shifted around the table so that she could slip an arm around her friend. Annabelle was trying hard not to cry but Clara knew she was in a bad way.
"You can come and stay with us you know," Clara told her, not even bothering to consult the Doctor as she knew that he would be okay with it. "If the rent situation becomes an issue, as long as you want. Or I can lend you some money for food or…"
Annabelle was shaking her head. "I don't want to be indebted to you Clara," she sighed. "I've already asked my parents if I can borrow some money so hopefully that will come through in a couple of days. I just need to get this damned book finished and then try to find another publisher before the royalty money slows to a trickle. Nobody's going to be buying my book Clara; it's been almost a year…"
Clara didn't know what to say, didn't know what she could say. Annabelle's life was falling apart at the seams and Clara was witnessing it before her eyes and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. She had forgotten that away from her perfect job and her perfect Doctor, the world wasn't giving everyone what they deserved and Annabelle was alone, broke and short on ideas.
"Annabelle," Clara bit her lip. Her friend wasn't going to accept her money and she wasn't going to stay with them. Clara didn't know what to do. "Look, why don't you try getting a job somewhere? You have an English degree, there must be publishing houses and the like that need someone like that? Just until you're back on your feet and can get the book finished…"
"Clara," Annabelle shook her head again, more limply this time. "As it is, it'll take me weeks to finish the book. Weeks. And that's dedicating all of my time to it. I barely sleep anymore. I have to try and get it done before the end of next month. But if I don't, then getting a job just means putting it on the backburner and then what? I spend the rest of my life wishing I'd gone through that extra couple of months of hell to get what I really wanted. Clara, I can do this. But I just need to earn it. This will be the book that gets me going, the book where I hit big. I mean my first book was good and it got me into a great place but the recognition starts now."
Clara couldn't help but worry that Annabelle was delirious. Her insistence that everything would be fine was both reassuring and oddly disconcerting. Clara didn't want her friend to lose her house or her contract and the idea of her living off Pot Noodle made Clara feel ill for her. She had to try and do something for Annabelle but she didn't know what there was to be done. Annabelle had managed a watery smile and stared at Clara, their eyes meeting properly for the first time.
"I'll be okay Clara," she said and Clara did not believe her for a second. "I promise."
Clara was still feeling more than slightly uneasy about her meeting with Annabelle and resolved to go round with a care package of sorts the next day and refuse to let Annabelle turn her down. She texted the Doctor, explaining to him the situation and saying that she was on her way to meet Ten. He didn't reply straight away, which was odd for him but he did eventually, when she was just outside the restaurant. His reply was hurried and he informed her that the proposal was going badly and that he'd talk to her later when he got the chance. Clara felt a tad guilty for texting him in the first place but it was his own stupid fault for leaving the proposal so damned late in the first place. He never learned. She spotted the brown trench coat before anything else, as was so often the case with the Doctor's cousin. David 'Ten' Smith had wild hair, a big smile and an even bigger heart. His fashion sense rivalled that of his cousin, with a brown pinstriped suit his preferred choice, a dark lie hanging limply around his neck. Clara and Ten had gotten on well since they met at university and had started hanging out fairly regularly. It helped that Ten lived nearby to account for his job with the Doctor's office. Clara, knowing Ten, was surprised that he had agreed to work under his cousin, but Ten had shrugged and said he had free reign to do pretty much whatever he wanted and was paid as much as he wanted. His wedding was set for December, as his fiancée Martha had always wanted a Christmas wedding.
"Clara," he called cheerfully, kissing her hand in way of greeting. Clara rolled her eyes. Ten was definitely the charmer in the family. "Still got my cousin on a tight leash?"
"He can't go more than ten feet outside the house without an alarm going off," Clara teased and Ten laughed at that. "Nah, he's working on some proposal for a bio-engineered super drug of some such nature, I don't pay nearly enough attention when he starts garbling at me," she admitted with a breezy laugh. "He has four hours to get it done, so no doubt the house will be an absolute tip when I get back. You know how he gets when he's working."
"Isn't that the reason he has a study?" Ten mused, as they entered the restaurant and sat down, a waiter offering them menus. "So he doesn't wreck the entire house?"
"Yes," Clara replied, gazing down at her menu and nibbling on her lower lip. "But the day he stays in that study is the day I can actually come home to a tidy house. It hasn't happened yet!" she tried not to sound too exasperated. It was part of his endearment. Plus, she always made him clean it up. The fact that they did an even amount of housework implied that she didn't have to kick his arse to make him do his half, but once she pointed out the fact that she was irritated, he usually threw himself into it straight away. He was very good at it once he wanted to be, it just usually didn't occur to him.
"You love him because of that, not in spite of it," Ten sounded amused by his observation and Clara blushed furiously at this as the waiter returned and they ordered. "That's cute."
"You don't feel the same way about Martha?" Clara arched her eyebrow and Ten tried his best not to look phased by this comment. Clara was only teasing, but she wondered if she'd struck a nerve. "Relax David, I'm kidding. Are you two spending enough time together?" For Clara, this was a legitimate concern. With Martha being a med-student and Ten playing the role of a senior partner, she was surprised they had any time alone together. Ten's face said it all and Clara had to refrain from biting her lip.
"We're doing our best," he said carefully, mulling over each word before he said it and Clara swore internally. "I mean we're trying to make an hour a day at least for each other, but we both need sleep and work is so all-consuming and…"
"Ten," Clara cut him off gently. "Things aren't going to change when you get married, you realise that right? You two need to try and find a way to spend more time together or you'll never get around to planning the wedding, let alone enjoy married life. You need to delegate more; we both know that you can. Or tell the Doctor that you want to work from home…"
Ten looked like he was mulling it over but Clara knew what he would say. He would try and find an excuse to get out of making the effort and then he'd say that he and Martha would just have to try harder. Clara was worried about them. Martha was working long hours and Ten's hours barely overlapped with hers. They were constantly tired and their relationship was increasingly becoming one of convenience rather than love. Clara shuddered at the thought. She didn't know what she would do if she and the Doctor fell out of love or stopped having time for each other. The times at university where she barely got to see him were by far the hardest part of their relationship, not least because of all the chaos that intervened at that point. Jessie, Clara's horrific ex had almost ripped them apart and so had River Song, the Doctor's own skeleton in the closet. But since they had left university and Clara had started working her way up the teaching world, getting her teaching qualifications and then spending some time as a TA before finally, less than a year ago, getting her first real teaching job. The entire time, the Doctor had been there, by her side. She couldn't imagine what it must be like for Ten and Martha to be in a relationship where your partner wasn't always your first priority.
"Clara, Martha and I get by, I promise." Ten reassured her and Clara tried her hardest to keep her eyebrow in its regular position. She felt it sliding up her forehead and restrained it. Getting by wasn't enough, Clara thought. But she didn't want to tell David that. He needed to figure out for himself exactly what he wanted. And if Martha was what he truly wanted, he would make the effort to put her first. If he didn't, then he was on for a collision course with trouble and nothing Clara did would fix that.
Having had what was in truth a thoroughly upsetting afternoon that did at least improve once she and Ten had stopped talking about Martha and started talking about Clara's job and future wedding, Clara headed home to see exactly what carnage the Doctor had inflicted on their perfect little home. When she got in, the lounge was surprisingly not a bombsight. Clara checked her watch. It was only 4:23. He would not have had time to finish his proposal and tidy up after himself, so this meant that he actually avoided making a mess in the first place. Clara was suspicious. He never avoided making a mess. What was he doing?
She called out his name but he didn't respond. Clara moved through the house, throwing her handbag on the sofa, calling his name as she took the stairs two at a time. She threw open the door to his study. It was empty. Clara wasn't entirely surprised but she was still slightly stumped as to exactly where he could have gone. His study didn't look any dirtier than it had been earlier that day when she'd left, which meant that he hadn't been working in there all day. She raised an eyebrow and pulled out her phone.
Hey, just wanted to check in because I got home and it looks like you've not been in all day. Hope you're alright and the proposal is going well! J xxx
Looking at it again and hoping she didn't sound too worried, Clara thumbed send. She was more than used to the Doctor's eccentric antics and she wasn't overly worried. She made herself a cup of tea in her favourite mug and settled down to do some marking. It only took a few minutes before her phone was buzzing and she frowned at the response.
All good here. Be home at 7. I'll make dinner tonight x
Clara didn't mind the Doctor doing his own thing, she never had. She just found it odd that he hadn't said anything to her about it. He normally told her so much useless facts about his day, like the exact time he made toast for lunch or how many times he'd rebooted his laptop. His dedication to the details of his life was bordering on maddening and it was very out of character for him to pull a disappearing act and be decidedly vague about it. Clara mused over it for a couple of minutes and then returned to marking. Whatever the Doctor was doing, she'd find out soon enough. She wasn't going to get worked up over nothing.
The Doctor came in at exactly 6:58, just as Clara had anticipated. He was usually a couple of minutes early when he said he was going to be somewhere for her. She had noticed the incredible disparity between when he was meeting her and other people. When they went places together, they were always late and she was dragging him along kicking and screaming and whenever he had somewhere to be, she always had to remind him and he was always late, so the fact that he always made it early for her was the biggest compliment he could give her.
He looked upset but Clara couldn't pin down why. She was halfway through eating a biscuit when he walked in and she smiled and waved at him. He didn't bound over to her the way he usually did, but he slumped beside her and wrapped his left arm around her. Clara turned into him and their lips met briefly. Her smile had gone, but he had done his best to make one of his own, a wistful attempt. It looked like he had had about as good a day as she had.
"The proposal?" she asked, stroking his arm gently. He waved it away as if it was nothing.
"I got that in in time, no need to worry about that," he said, his voice betraying an emotion that Clara couldn't quite pin down. "I had it all finished in time, I just had to take of…it doesn't matter, how was your day?"
"My day was crap on a stick," Clara replied quickly, her eyebrow raised. "It matters to you clearly, so spill, what is it?"
"You're not going to like it," the Doctor insisted but Clara merely rolled her eyes. "I had to meet someone, someone who needed help."
"Who were you meeting?" Clara asked with a slight edge to her voice now as she mulled over the options. It wasn't one of the people she'd been expecting however.
"Clara," the Doctor took a deep breath. "I was with Rose."
