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Chapter 3

The Doctor closed the door behind him, glad to finally be home and able to leave this day behind him. Yoko greeted him immediately, meowing furiously in her attempt to gain his attention. With a sigh the Doctor followed the impatient cat into the kitchen and filled her bowl with food before he heard the front door open again and Joe stepped inside.

"What a day!" he complained, dropping his briefcase on the kitchen tablet and sinking down in a chair.

"Missy approached me today," the Doctor began and after seeing the look on his friend's face he groaned, "No, not about that. About you!"

"Me? Have I ever done to her?"

The Doctor shot him a dirty look. "Oh, I don't know," he replied sarcastically, "Maybe it was the lewd remark about her breasts or the not so very subtle attempts to get her to sleep with you."

Joe groaned in reply. "That was, what? Over 30 years ago? Besides, she had no idea what she was missing out on. I just wanted the best for-"

"Anyway," he interrupted his friend, "She's got on eye on you. She knows you're sleeping with the students and she is waiting to catch you and if she catches you doing that sort of thing at my house she will have my head as well. So cut it out!"

Joe snorted.

"This isn't a joke," the Doctor said angrily, "That woman wants to fire your arse and she's looking out for any indiscretions."

"Fine," Joe spat, "I'll be careful."

Shaking his head the Doctor left the kitchen to walk upstairs. It was simply no use trying to talk sense into Joe. His friend had always been like this and the Doctor was a fool to believe that he would ever change. He kicked off his shoes by the door and sank down on his bed with a long sigh. What a weird day it had been. Not only was his annoying friend still living with him but there was also the matter of his student. The Doctor knew her name now after they had all introduced each other at the beginning of his class about Anne Boleyn.

Clara Oswald. Beautiful, smart Clara Oswald. The Doctor supposed that it could have been worse, he could have fancied a student that was fresh out of school. But still, late 20s and late 50s was one hell of an age gap. He was a dirty pervert and he had probably made a complete fool out of himself in class. He couldn't help it, every time Clara had looked at him something in his brain had just shut off, leaving him completely blank and stammering and probably blushing as well. The Doctor let out a tired groan. He was old as his grey hair and wrinkles were proof of, a young woman shouldn't be able to unsettle him like this. But luckily he could make sure that was all she ever did. Never would he end up like his friend Joe.

Suddenly he felt the bed sink next to him and a few seconds later Yoko approached him on quiet paws. The Doctor sighed again when he reached for the cat and pulled her on top of his chest where she started purring immediately.

"It's not really fair, is it? I see a woman I like and she is not only my student but also young enough to be my own daughter."

Yoko uttered a sound of contentment as she curled up on his chest.

"Yes, I know. I'm a pervert for even fancying her. Even if she wasn't my student, she'd probably laugh at me. But you should have seen her. Clara has eyes so dark you could drown in them," the Doctor groaned, "Oh, silly, old fool. She most definitely has a boyfriend or maybe she's even married already. And why am I telling you all of this? You're a cat. You don't care."

The Doctor buried his hands in Yoko's fur and closed his eyes. In a week he would probably have forgotten all about Clara.

OOO

"I'm telling you, he hates me," Clara complained before she took a sip from her pint of beer. She had decided to join Amy and Rory at the pub after her classes to celebrate their first official week back at university.

"Why would he hate you?" Amy asked her in confusion.

"I don't know, maybe because I was late. But he got so weird when I tried to talk to him and he never even looked at me. And I could swear I've seen him before somewhere. I wish I could remember where it was."

"You're imagining things, Clara," Amy said before she nudged Rory in the ribs, "Tell her she's imagining things."

Rory suddenly set up straight and Clara got the impression that he had been about to fall asleep in his seat.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I've been at the hospital since 6 this morning. What were you talking about?"

"Clara thinks our professor hates her because he wouldn't look at her," her friend explained to her fiancé.

"Maybe he just had a bad day?" Rory suggested.

"Anyway," Amy continued, "What did you think about Professor Johannes Schmidt?"

"Ew!" Clara pulled a face and her friend laughed at her expression, "He is seriously the slimiest, creepiest man I have ever met. Oh, and I overheard a conversation the Doctor had with a woman who works at the university. Apparently Schmidt is sleeping with his students, or at least the woman thinks he is."

"Mh, I wouldn't say it's impossible," Amy agreed, "But wouldn't he get into trouble for that?"

Clara nodded. "The woman seemed determined to catch him in the act. I personally couldn't imagine who in their right mind would want to sleep with him."

Amy smirked. "Maybe not Schmidt, but what about the Doctor? He doesn't look too bad for his age."

Whereas Amy was right with her last statement, sleeping with her professor was not on her schedule this time. Clara had done it once, back when she had been 22 but he had been younger and technically he hadn't even been her professor at all as she had never taken any of his classes. So she wasn't sure it even counted.

"I'm not going to sleep with any of the professors and I think neither are you," Clara replied, laughing and pointing in Rory's direction. He had his eyes closed again and his head was falling back against the wall.

"We should probably go home," Amy concluded, "See you at school tomorrow?"

"I don't think that can be avoided," Clara replied.

Once Clara had arrived at home she left her bag by her desk and headed straight for the shower. However her thoughts kept wandering back to her classes and, of course, to the Doctor. Why had he acted so odd around her? Had it really been because of her late appearance to his class? If that was the case he could have just said so.

Unable to put the day behind her Clara decided she could just as well do her homework for next week but once she had reached for her favourite book about Henry VIII she noticed the author's picture above the blurb and finally it dawned on her. Her professor, the Doctor, was the author of her favourite book about her favourite historical topic. A smile appeared on her face when she suddenly saw a new way to make him like her.