Thank you so much for the sweet comments! Unfortunately my internet at home is down (and I'm totally not posting this from work *clears throat*) and I'll be away for a con tomorrow and Saturday, so I won't be able to post another chapter before Sunday. I hope you'll enjoy this one in the meantime ;)

Chapter 7

The sea wind was cool around his nose when he stepped on deck, intending to watch the English coast disappear from view along with everyone else. John couldn't remember the last time he had travelled by ship although he was sure that it must have been decades ago. It was slower, but he preferred it this way. It gave him a sense of travelling. Flying, on the other hand, was strange even though he had done it countless of times, but always just using it as a means to an end. It wasn't travelling, not really. Stepping on a plane in London and sleeping or drinking until he staggered off the plane in New York wasn't travelling. Watching one shore disappear and another appear hours later, that was travelling, as was watching the roads fly by while he was driving.

"What are you thinking?" Clara asked, pushing her face into his field of vision. She was smiling at him and John couldn't help but return her smile. He liked that woman and yes, he liked the fact that she was bossy. Sometimes there was comfort in handing over the reigns to someone else.

"I was thinking that I should try out the camera and take a few photos of the coast before it's gone," John replied and nodded towards the sight in front of them. In a few hours they would land in Denmark and John vowed to leave all his worries behind. He was running away, he had Clara by his side. It was going to be great.

"I'm not stopping you," Clara smiled and John decided to leave the thinking for later. He was here to enjoy himself.

He took the cap off the lens and pointed his new camera straight at Clara, taking a picture before she could stop him.

"Hey, you wanted to take pictures of the landscape, not me," she complained.

"The landscape is in the background."

Clara wrinkled her nose and turned around, leaning on the railing to watch the ship pass by the coast. John couldn't resist. She looked so pretty with her hair blown all over the place by the wind, so John raised his camera once more and shot another picture. He was about to put the camera away when suddenly John became aware of some giggling women behind him. He glanced at them, but then turned around to lean on the railing next to Clara. He was about to ask her if she wanted to go to one of the restaurants on board to have lunch when she spoke first.

"I think you've got some admirers," Clara said, nodding towards the women behind them. The tone in her voice was one he hadn't heard before and he couldn't quite determine what it meant.

Instead of trying, John glanced over his shoulder once again and realized that Clara had been right. The women were staring at him and he shoved his sunglasses a little further up his nose and decided to look at the ocean instead. He wasn't in that kind of mood right now.

"You must have been a real ladykiller in your days," Clara remarked.

John turned to look at her, but her eyes remained firmly on the water in front of them. "In my days?" he asked back, trying very hard not to show how hurt he was. True, he had aged, but he liked to think that he had aged well. Extremely well.

"Yeah, you know," Clara hesitated, "When you were younger."

John snorted. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Clara, but my days haven't passed yet. As these ladies over there are proof of."

In response Clara pulled a face, but finally she looked at him. "Please don't try to make a point by going over there to flirt with them."

John really wasn't in the mood to flirt with anyone, but he got a small kick out of winding Clara up, so he decided to keep the game going for a moment longer.

"Why? Are you afraid I'd score with one of them? That I'd leave you here and travel with them instead?" he asked.

She laughed in response. "That's really not what I'm afraid of," Clara countered, "More that you'll try to patch up your bruised ego with a bottle of whiskey tonight."

"In fact, I'm pretty sure I could score with both. At the same time," John teased her and turned around to look at the two women, "They certainly seem the type."

"Stop it."

"You can join if you like."

"Really, stop," Clara told him harshly.

John smiled at her and gave Clara a soft nudge. "Hey, I'm sorry. I was just teasing you."

"Well, it wasn't funny," she replied and looked down at her feet. John could tell that he had overdone it because something about the situation was clearly bothering her.

"I'm sorry. I promise I'll contain my-," he paused, "Myself. In my question mark pants."

Finally Clara started to laugh in earnest and looked back at him. "Yeah, it's unlikely you'll get lucky wearing those," Clara said, but the smile soon faded from her lips. Instead she was looking at him as if she was trying to read something from his face. "I can't tell whether you're a Casanova or one of those one true love kinda guys."

"Can't I be both?"

"No, not really," Clara shook her head.

With a sigh John leaned back against the railing. He could tell her a bit, it didn't matter. Besides, it was far in his past by now. "I've had a true love or two. Didn't last. And the rest. . . well, that obviously didn't last either."

"How many?" she enquired curiously.

John arched his eyebrows up. "How many what?"

"How many women have you slept with?"

Not as many as Jack, that was for sure. "It's just a number, Clara, it doesn't matter," he told her and averted his eyes.

"Well, I'll go first then. Four men and two women," Clara said matter-of-factly.

"That seems like a, uhm, a normal amount," John remarked, keeping his eyes fixed on a point on the ship that wasn't Clara, "Why are we talking about this?"

"Because we're getting to know each other. Technically, this is talking about the past, but not in a way that you'd have to hide. Unless there is something to hide. So?"

John cleared his throat, shuffling his feet nervously. He really wished that Clara would stop asking. "So what? Ow."

John held his arm where Clara had nudged him a little more roughly.

"How many?" she asked, "You can tell me, I won't laugh. Just give me a number."

"I can't," he said and quickly glanced away again.

Clara snorted. "What do you mean you can't? Have you taken a vow that prevents you from answering my question?"

He sighed. "No, I can't tell you because I don't know," John replied and finally looked at her. There was that look of shock on Clara's face that he had expected and he immediately wished he hadn't said anything. He could have lied, he could gave given her any number and Clara would have believed it. But no, he was an idiot and he had told her the truth.

"I'm 57 years old. There have been women. I've never bothered to keep a list," John argued, trying to somehow justify the fact that he was failing to remember just how many women he had been with. Even if he had had a clear head during on all of these occasions, there was no way he could count them all, not over the past 40 years.

He watched as Clara swallowed and finally nodded. "Alright," she said, "That's fine. That's. . . not what I expected, but fine."

John could tell that it wasn't fine, not entirely. Somehow this little fact about him was bothering Clara, but he didn't want to ask her about it any further to avoid slipping deeper into this conversation.

"You really don't know? Not even a vague idea?" she suddenly asked, the disbelief still audible in her voice.

"You've been with two women. Should I pretend to be shocked about that so we can finally change the topic?" John spat. He really wanted her to stop talking about it. The amount of women he had slept with in his life had never been a reason to brag and admitting it in front of Clara was making him downright uncomfortable for some reason. They would have to share the motorhome and it would make things slightly awkward if she believed him to be incorrigible ladykiller who couldn't keep it in his pants.

"New rule," he added, "No hanky panky while we're travelling together. For either of us."

To his surprise Clara frowned at him. "Why are you making that rule?"

"Because of that shocked look you're giving me, so I'm promising you not to bring other women into the motorhome and the same goes for you."

Clara laughed. "What? No women?"

"Precisely," John nodded, "Gonna be hard to focus on the driving while you're having fun with another girl in the back."

She chuckled. "What about men?"

John glowered at her.

"Fine," Clara agreed and by now she looked visibly relieved. "No hanky panky. Got it."

"Good," John sighed, "Now, please, let's forget this conversation ever happened and get something to eat. I'm starving."

"Alright," Clara said with a smile and John offered her his arm so they could go to the restaurant together. Maybe, with a bit of luck, Clara would really forget all about this conversation or it could become a little awkward in the future. If she didn't forget about it, well, John would have to brace himself for a lot of teasing.