Chapter 4 - Games
The restaurant Casanova took them to was not at all what Clara had been expecting. It was a ruckus tavern on the other side of the city. The area was all stone and brick buildings, stained by smoke and soot. There was nothing in that part of town even approaching opulent (and hardly anything approaching clean). The patrons of the tavern wore simple clothing and spoke and laughed freely, the binding restraints of Venetian society seem to have little sway here. Although Casanova was right, there were still social rules on display, it was just a different rule book. Clara smiled at Casanova in amazement, "I never would have guessed you'd bring us anywhere like this."
"Why, because I'm all high class and posh? This place has the best Sepe al nero in all of Venice. You'd think I'd miss out on that just because it's in a different part of town?"
Clara thought that was putting it a bit lightly, "But what about all of your rich patrons and benefactors? Aren't you breaking the rules by just being here?"
"Clara, an ordinary man knows the rules of his society, a smart man knows how to work within those rules, and a very clever man knows which of those rules can be bent, and which can be ignored all together. No one cares if I come out here. They think it's modern and radical, and all the more impressive because they'd never dream of doing it themselves." Clara studied his face, reevaluating him yet again. Casanova let her look, sitting there completely comfortable under her scrutiny.
The moment was broken by the Doctor clearing his throat, "So, lunch then?"
"'Course," Casanova motioned to a young woman at the far end of the room. She exchanged a quick word with the barman and brought over a tray with three gigantic steins of beer. "They brew their own ale here, some of the best in the city." Casanova winked at the server and Clara noticed that once she had set down the last glass the woman let her hand rest on Casanova's shoulder for a moment before brushing it across his back. "To friends, new and old," Casanova raised his glass.
The Doctor and Clara followed suit. Clara took a sip. It was a richer taste than she was used to, not to mention a good deal stronger, but Clara quite enjoyed it. She was about to say as much, but was distracted by the awful face the Doctor made before he spit the beer back into his stein. "That's dreadful. I'm going to go see what else they have," the Doctor headed for the bar, but on his way he noticed a young boy of about 8 and made a beeline for him instead. "What have you got there?" The Doctor took a sip from the boy's stein and spit its contents onto the floor, "Beer? They've given you beer? Do you even like it?" Clara couldn't hear the boy's response, but the Doctor added, "Why don't I go make us something better?"
Clara's eyes followed the Doctor as he crossed the room and headed straight for the bar. He walked right past everyone who worked there and started taking stock of their selection. The workers were so bewildered no one even stopped him. They all just seemed to stare. All except the young woman who served them, her eyes were darkened with desire and were staring right at Casanova. "Is she one of yours?" Clara asked with a smirk.
"One of mine? I thought you objected to throwing around ownership."
"Is she one of your conquests then?"
Casanova actually looked offended by her statement, "And here I thought we were getting on so well. But, Miss Oswald, I'm beginning to get the impression you don't approve of me."
"I don't. At least, not when it comes to chickens."
"That's disappointing, I figured the future was bound to be more enlightened when it came to sex. Or are you just a prude?"
"I have no problem with consenting adults doing whatever they want with each other."
"Well then?"
"I don't approve of games."
"I don't play them." Clara let out a laugh. Casanova frowned, "I don't."
"Then what are we doing right now?"
"Having lunch. Well, I suppose we're about to have lunch. Right now we're having a... disagreement."
"No, we're in the middle of a game. One of your games. A stupid bet. A conquest. That's what I disapprove of."
"Do you think I'm only interested because of the bet?"
"I think the Doctor could have arrived with anyone and you would do your best to trick them into bed."
"'Trick' there's another unfair word. We've spent the last three hours together. Have I been in anyway untrue."
"You lied your way into the basilica."
"I meant to you."
"You're so very good at pretending, how could I possibly know?"
"Because you're clever. Very clever. More than that, you understand people. And yet you still genuinely like them, an unusual combination. One that we share. You're kind, and giving of spirit. A teacher. You love your work, love helping others, but you're torn, because you love this too, the adventure, the travel, the Doctor's world. There are times when you consider just running off permanently. Giving up any ties to home. You're bold and self-assured. Some people might mistake you for stubborn, but you're not, are you? Because you keep changing your mind about me. Reevaluating what you've heard, what you think. You give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes, this started as a bet, yes I will do my best to take you home with me this evening, might even succeed, but that's not because I just want someone. It's because I want you. That's the truth. I may have made my career and livelihood out of pretending, but I don't do that with women. They aren't trophies or notches on the bed post. I care about them, I know them, I listen to them. Love them."
"All of them?" Clara asked in disbelief.
"Don't they still say, 'making love' anymore?"
"You can't love someone for just one night?"
"Well, it's usually more than one night... but that's beside the point. Listen, I agree with you, a man who takes women to bed with lies and promises is a bastard. But every woman I have ever been with I've told the truth to, they knew what we were and what we weren't."
"It's still not fair."
"Why not?"
"Because... because if you're ever caught it's a slap on the wrist for you and for them it's dishonour and disgrace. How can you be equal parties in it, if the stakes are not equal?"
"Well, that's when it's very handy to live in a society filled with pretenders. Such a thing would bring dishonour, so the times I'm been 'caught' as you say, everyone goes on as if it never happened. These woman are not cast out, that would cause a scene, gossip. It's so much easier just to pretend." Casanova turned away from Clara for a moment. Her eyes followed his gaze. The Doctor was conferencing with the barkeep, and held in his hands two tall glasses of a thick yellow liquid. Banana daiquiris were Clara's guess. She could see yellow peels on the counter. The Doctor must of had a bunch in is pocket. She had long suspected that he always had at least one banana on him, perhaps for situations like these. He brought the drinks over to the little boy, and just before the boy could take a sip, the Doctor also added mini umbrellas to the tops of their glasses. Another strange item he fished out of his bigger-on-the-inside pockets. The two raised their glasses and took large sips. When they set their glasses down both the Doctor and the boy had yellow mustaches and satisfied grins on their faces. "I've always liked the Doctor. He's the only person I've ever met who's just completely and utterly themselves. He couldn't pretend if he tried. Except..."
"Except?" Clara echoed, an eyebrow raised.
"Well, we're the opposite, the Doctor and me. I'm always pretending, except when it comes to women. Where as he... well you know." Casanova took a sip of beer and changed the subject, feeling a little like he'd said too much already. It, after all, wasn't his secret to tell. "Tell me more about your time. Is the battle of the sexes over now? Have we reached equality?"
"Getting closer," Clara replied, finishing her ale. "The belief is that as a woman you can do anything a man can do."
"But that's not always the case?"
"We're getting there. There's still some barriers, but fewer and fewer each year. But you know, society, it's slow to change. You asked about sex right? In theory it doesn't matter, go do what you want, be safe, obviously, but it's entirely up to the person, man or woman. Even so, if a woman sleeps with a lot of people she's a 'slut' or a 'whore', but if a man sleeps with a lot of people he's a 'player' or a... well, 'casanova'. See there's no positive term for a woman who has a lot of sex and there's no negative term for a man who does."
"Stupid social hangups. Still, it's progress, even if it takes them a bloody long time. You've been to the future. We must get over all of this stuff someday."
"Yeah, eventually. I tell you, you'd love the 51st century."
"Maybe I'll get the Doctor to take me for a ride in his little box."
"Yeah, you'd probably enjoy that," Clara winked at him.
"Certainly if you were there. The three of us, hadn't even consider that, but if—"
"No, no. Stop there."
"So there is a line?" Casanova said, his eyes wandering over to the Doctor. "Miss Oswald, don't tell me you've been pretending too?"