Chapter 4

He had been wrong. So, so wrong. When the Doctor had thought he would have forgotten all about Clara by the next week he had only been half right. He thought about her the next day and the day after that but as soon as the weekend was over Clara had almost completely vanished from his head. She was just a student with a pretty face, nothing more. No reason to lose his head over it.

However when he stepped into the lecture hall and saw Clara Oswald sitting there next to her friend in one of the front rows is heart missed a beat. Why her? Why now? And why couldn't the Doctor just shake off this feeling? It wasn't as if he never looked at his students. He was a man and he had eyes. Of course he had considered some of them pretty or even beautiful before but no one had ever flustered him like the damned Clara Oswald. The Doctor took a deep breath and decided to ignore the hammering inside his chest as he reached for his notes and started the lecture, staring at all other points in the room save for the front rows. How he was going to get through the next class he didn't know yet.

After 90 minutes of talking his mouth already felt dry and he took a sip from the glass of water on his desk before he turned back around to pack up his things when he saw her standing right next to him.

"Do. . . do you need help finding the room again?" the Doctor stammered nervously, turning away from Clara as quickly as possible. Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

"Actually, no. I remember the way," out of the corner of his eye he saw her smile and he felt a little as if he was being stabbed in the stomach, "I figured out where I've seen you before. You were right. We haven't met but I've definitely seen you."

Clara Oswald produced a book from out of her bag that was all too familiar to him. In her hands she held his greatest accomplishment, his accumulated research about Henry VIII that had taken him 7 years to put together. The Doctor remembered writing it all too well and probably a little too fondly. After this book teaching just hadn't been the same. As much as he loved his work and helping young people gain knowledge and sharing his own knowledge with them, writing this book had been his dream come true and he had enjoyed it from start to finish, no matter how often he had cursed over his own writing.

"You. . . uhm. . . you've read that?" he asked, pointing at the volume in her hands.

"Read?" Clara cocked an eyebrow at him before she started laughing, "I've devoured it. The Tudors are my favourite subject in English history and yours is the best book that has ever been written about Henry VIII. I've read it at least 4 times."

"What? The entire thing?" he blurted out in disbelief.

"Of course the entire thing," she replied, smiling, "It's so well researched and your writing is excellent. It's very easy to read for a scientific work. And I loved how you always distinguished so clearly between what can be proven and what are only just theories. I've read other books about the subject, so I can tell you that's not always the case. I have to admit, I even looked up the original theories by other historians that you quoted."

The Doctor didn't know what to say to her so he just stood there and felt the heat slowly rise into his cheeks. By now he was sure that he was blushing furiously. Not just because of what Clara had said to him but also because she smiled right at him and he knew that smile was one of admiration and only meant for him.

"Uhm, thanks," the Doctor finally said after he had realized that Clara was waiting for an answer.

Clearly that wasn't what she had wanted to hear. A tiny frown appeared on her face before she quickly looked away, avoiding his gaze.

"I should go," she said, "Don't wanna be late for your class."

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to apologize, to thank her, maybe even tell her how marvellous she was but he couldn't get a single word out and soon enough she had turned around and left the lecture hall. With a sigh the Doctor looked around the empty room. It was going to be one very long semester.

OOO

The Doctor was about to pull out the key to his house when suddenly the front door opened already and Joe stepped outside. He closed the door behind him and positioned himself in a way that made it impossible for the Doctor to go inside.

"Don't freak out," Joe warned him.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows in suspicion. "What's wrong now?"

"Well," his friend dragged out the word.

"Well what?"

"I may or may not have company."

The Doctor groaned in frustration. "Jesus Christ, Joe," he cursed, "I told you, Missy is going to fire you and me as well if she finds out I knew about it."

"Then I suggest you go right upstairs and don't look left or right and we can all pretend you haven't seen a thing."

"Who's it this time?" the Doctor asked, expressing his annoyance through his voice or at least hoping that Joe would catch up on it.

"Well, I must say. There are some really cute women in my class about the French Revolution. On today's schedule is Melanie and she's-"

"Stop," the Doctor said, "That's enough information for me. I'll be in my room."

He made his way past his friend but his initial instinct to walk right upstairs was thrown off course when he was greeted by a friendly voice.

"Hello Doctor," Melanie said happily, "Are you going to join us for a drink?"

The Doctor couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, are you going to offer me one of my own drinks in my own house?"

For a moment the student was too baffled to say anything. Joe, however, wasn't.

"Please, don't be rude to her."

"Have you fed Yoko?" the Doctor asked to change the topic.

"Oh, the cat is yours?" Melanie asked, her face lighting up, "I gave her some of the cat food that was next to her bowl. She is gorgeous."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed with a light smile while he headed in the direction of the stairs, "She is."

As soon as he was inside his bedroom the Doctor closed the door behind and took a deep breath. He needed to get rid of Joe as soon as possible or he would go mad. Just how he had managed to refrain from killing his friend in the past six months the Doctor couldn't say. He took off his shoes and jacket before he joined the sleeping cat on his bed and started stroking her fur. She purred in response.

"I think I was a little rude to Clara today," he confessed to his cat, "But not on purpose. She just. . . I don't know. I can't really think straight when she's around and I start acting like a shy, insecure 15-year-old."

Yoko nuzzled her head against his palm.

"I hope this goes away soon. I'm afraid I'm not doing a very good job as her professor and soon enough there'll be private consultations with the students for their essays. She must think I'm an idiot."

Suddenly the Doctor was interrupted by a noise and he looked up to try to determine where it was coming from. His suspicion was soon confirmed when he heard a woman moan, following by some more grunting and the sound of furniture being banged against a wall.

"Great," the Doctor muttered sarcastically, "Just great."

He turned his head towards Yoko who seemed utterly unimpressed by the noise. "Can't you scratch his eyes out or something?"

The cat meowed.

"Yeah, you're right. I should just kick him out but a little help of you wouldn't hurt," the Doctor sighed and settled back in his pillows, trying his best to ignore the sounds coming from the other room – and failing.