Chapter 3

Clara dropped her bag and coat on the rack next to the door with a heavy sigh and stomped into her kitchen, her feet feeling heavy and tired after a long day at the office. Now all she really needed a glass of wine and her cat purring loudly next to her.

Clara rattled he box with the cat food and poured some of it into the bowl and instantly the little fur ball came running into the room. Sammy meowed sleepily and bumped his head against her leg before he started to devour his dinner. Clara poured herself a large glass of wine and unwrapped the chips she had bought on the way home before she made her way into the living room and dropped down on the couch.

She couldn't say why John Smith's insults bothered her so much, but that man really knew how to push her buttons. His mere presence seemed a nuisance to her and even though she was dearly hoping for it, she knew that he wouldn't give up trying to get his novel published. Clara took a sip from her wine and leaned back to open her laptop. It took a moment, but when she opened the most recent e-mail from the Doctor, a smile finally appeared on her face again. She immediately bent forward to write her reply that seemed long overdue.

Hello Doctor,

yep, all toes still there. I just counted to be sure and Sammy is more interested in the cat food and maybe the fish I keep in my fridge. I don't think he's into human. Thank God!

You put something in your new story especially for me? Now you've certainly gained my attention. What could it possibly be? Please, give me a hint or a few teaser lines. I've had a really bad day at the office, dealing with idiots, and I could use some cheering up.

The Impossible Girl

When Clara hit the send button, Sammy jumped up to join her on the sofa and she smiled down at her furry friend.

"You're begging for chips, aren't you?" she asked and stuffed one of them into her mouth. The cat simply rubbed his head against her knee in response. Clara sighed. "Tomorrow is the anniversary of Danny's death. You haven't met him but you would have liked him."

She emptied her wine glass and glanced at her e-mails, only to realize that the Doctor hadn't responded yet. Of course not. He would have better things to do than to sit at his computer on a Friday night. Clara should have better things to do, but the Doctor's messages were one of the main reasons she got out of bed in the morning.

"It's been three years, Sammy. I'm ready for something new. I don't want to end up as a crazy cat lady," she sighed, "Not that you're a bad thing, no, you're cute and I love you, but I miss having a man around. I wish I could meet the Doctor."

The cat didn't respond, so Clara sighed and refilled her glass.

"I don't actually know that much about him, but he's so nice in his e-mails and he always knows what to say. Well, he's widowed, so I know he's probably a little older, which doesn't actually bother me. Unless he's like 80 or something. And his stories-," Clara groaned out loud at the though of it. The Doctor simply knew how to write an erotic scene and if he was as good at doing it as he was at writing about it, Clara would do almost anything for a night with him. Three years had passed and she missed the feeling of a man. In her frustration she downed her second drink, hoping it would drown out the nagging feeling, but it didn't. But she couldn't just ask her anonymous client out on a date.

Then suddenly there was a sound coming from her laptop and when Clara glanced up, her heart skipped a little beat. It was a new e-mail from the Doctor.

Good evening, my Impossible Girl,

dealing with idiots? Trust me, I know all about that. Had a not so nice encounter with a pudding brain today as well, so I know how you must be feeling. Don't you just wish you could punch people sometimes and get away with it?

How are you feeling, apart from having had a bad day? If I remember correctly there is a not so nice anniversary coming.

If you really want a few teaser lines, you need to give me a few moments to turn my notes into something passable.

The Doctor.

Clara sighed and sipped her drink. The Doctor really was the perfect man. He was considerate and he seemed to be paying a lot of attention to everything she told him, even if it had been a year ago. And his writing also made him seem damn sexy. Oh, why did he have to use a pseudonym? Why did the publishing company have to have these rules?

When she read the e-mail once again, Clara couldn't help but notice the wording. My Impossible Girl. How she would love to be his right now. Maybe he also liked her a bit? No, that was a silly thought. The Doctor didn't even know her or what she looked like. He was probably just being nice, so Clara decided to be nice in return. And maybe flirt just to a little to see how he would respond.

Oh Doctor, my Doctor,

please grant me some of your uplifting words on this grim day ;)

Other than still being slightly annoyed about my day at the office, I'm fine, really. And I think it's very sweet that you remember the anniversary, but there's no need to worry. I have company now in the form of my furry friend and I have your e-mails to look forward to, so there is hardly a reason to complain.

What about you? Is there any way I could help make your day a little better?

Your Impossible Girl.

Clara leaned back, enjoying her wine, stroking her cat's fur and knowing that the Doctor wouldn't take long to reply. She just knew it and the thought about his response excited her immensely. A few minutes later a new message popped up.

If my Impossible Girl is feeling better, then that makes me feel better as well. Also, I never mind hearing you praise my writing, but that's another matter.

I've attached the word file. Hope you like the location I picked especially for you ;)

The Doctor

Clara immediately went on to open the attached word file and noticed that it really wasn't a very long text. Nevertheless she was glad for the distraction and started to read it.

She instantly realized what the Doctor had meant when he had said the location had been chosen for her because she vaguely remembered telling him that she would love to read about a scene in a tub. Clara gulped down her wine and felt the heat rise into her cheeks as she read the teaser and a teaser it was. She had to shift in her seat to suppress the uncomfortable, annoying itch between her legs that the Doctor's writing was causing her once more. If he was here right now, she'd draw them a bath and have him do the exact things to her that she was reading about right now. Or invite him to her bedroom. Or just let him take her on the couch. It didn't matter.

When she had finished reading, Clara instantly started writing a reply. He liked it when she praised his work? Well, he deserved praise for this.

Once she had finished the first sentence, however, Clara threw a glance at her cat.

"I think I might be about to write something cheeky," she confessed, "Should I?"

Sammy simply purred in response.

"Okay, let's do this," she determined, finished her wine and set the glass down to type.

Doctor, that was amazing and at the asme time amazingly frustrating. I know i requested a tub scemne, but this really exceeded my expectations because it's definitely a biggehr turn on than I had imagined. You have no ideda what your writing does to me and what I would give uto be ein her place right now and have you whisper those things in my ear. Congratulations once more, wyou made me blush and turned on. I know I will have very sweet and naughty dreams about you tonight.

Sleep well,

Your Impossible Girl.

Clara sent the e-mail before she could change her mind about it and closed her laptop, grinning broadly at the cat next to her while her heart was beating just a little faster than usual. She couldn't believe she had actually been brave enough to send this message.

"Told you it'd be cheeky," she said and rose from her seat, only to realize that she was a little unsteady on her feet. The wine must have gone to her head a little more than she would have thought.

Clara simply shrugged it off as she made her way towards her bedroom. It didn't matter. Today was Friday and tomorrow morning she could sleep off any possible headache for as long as she liked.