Chapter Nine

"Are you sure?"

Clara almost glared at Jenny. "Yes, now go! Your brother doesn't turn twenty-four every day."

Jenny remained fixed to the spot by the door, her hand gripping her bag tightly as she cast another worried glance Clara's way.

"Tell him Happy Birthday for me," Clara insisted.

Jenny sighed with resignation. "Thanks again, Clara. I owe you!"

When the glass door clicked shut behind Jenny, Clara released a sigh. She glanced around at all of the empty desks and chairs that littered the marketing office like she expected something to be lurking in the quiet, but there wasn't.

"Alone at last," she muttered before returning her attention to her computer.

Madam Vastra was leaving for Tokyo in the morning and she was expecting an important package that needed to go with her. Jenny offered to stay late and sign for it, but it was her brother's birthday and their relationship wasn't on the solidest foundation. Clara didn't have any big plans for her Friday night so she volunteered to stay behind.

Now she was faced with a big decision: should she do more work until the package arrived or watch something on Netflix? She didn't really have a lot of work to do since her job revolved around maintaining daily operations, and now the day was done. She didn't really fancy watching a movie at the moment, so it was with another sigh that she opened up her internet browser and signed in to her e-mail account.

She only had a few messages in her inbox: one from Angie, who had attached several pictures from her flute recital; a forwarded message from her dad that Clara deleted before reading because she was tired of him trying to brainwash her with his political propaganda; and then one from Nina about the clogged drain in their bathroom. Clara grunted in annoyance at the last one, and almost immediately after the sound left her lips another one called her attention to the door.

Clara nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the knocking, but relaxed when she saw who was standing on the other side. She pressed the buzzer that allowed the Doctor to walk in and she watched him approach with heightened curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

"Jenny mentioned you were staying late for a delivery. I thought I'd keep you company."

Clara grinned incredulously. "Really?"

"Yeah," he replied with a grin of his own as he leaned against the top of her desk. "You're not actually working right now, are you?"

"Well, I am a vital employee," she teased. "I have several important tasks, of which I…" She gave up mid-sentence. "No. I'm pretty much just sitting on my hands. You don't have any plans for the evening?" she added sceptically.

The Doctor stood up and waved a dismissive hand. "Plans. Never was much of one for plans. They take all the spontaneity out of life."

She couldn't help but giggle in response to that. "And you're Mr Spontaneous?"

"Little bit," he replied, standing up straight as he straightened his bow tie.

Clara stared up at him as she twirled side to side in her chair, hands in her lap. She still didn't know what to make of this strange man, but she welcomed his presence. She stood and opened her mouth to ask if he wanted to nip into the kitchen for some coffee when the lights shut off on the entire floor.

"Oh… okay." She tried not to panic. "I guess they forgot we were here."

The Doctor groaned with aggravation and walked towards the doorway. "They're on an automatic timer. I forgot they shut off earlier on Fridays."

"Can we turn them back on?" Clara asked as she carefully tread the space between them until she was standing by his side. She pulled her mobile from her pocket and turned the LED light towards the control box on the wall. Clara had never thought about what that was before; she'd always assumed it was the thermostat.

"Well… hopefully," he said with a degree of uncertainty that Clara didn't particularly fancy. He turned to look at her but was blinded by the bright light on her phone. "Ahh!" he growled. "Now I can't see anything."

"Why did you look straight into the light then?"

"I was trying to look at you!"

Clara sighed and smiled faintly. "What are you trying to do?"

"Um…" He took a moment to rub his eyes. "I need to see if I can find the manual override code for the lights."

"Do you know it?"

"No."

"So you were just going to try and guess?"

"Yes."

Clara lowered her flashlight and huffed with frustration. "So we're pretty much trapped in the dark, aren't we?"

"Oy, come on! Hold that light up again. Don't lose faith in me yet, Clara."

"Who says I've got any faith in your code-guessing abilities?" she said as she reluctantly raised the light back to the light box.

The Doctor turned and grinned at her in a way that made her forget all about the lights. "Holding the light up, aren't you?"

Seventeen guesses later, they were still in the dark. Clara sighed and shifted her phone into her left hand to give the other a rest.

"We could just do without the lights," she offered dully.

"Really?" the Doctor replied hopefully. "I can figure this out."

"Oh, I'm sure you can," Clara replied, clearly humouring him. "I'd just rather you not spend all night mucking about with the light box when we could just turn that lamp on over by the sofa."

Clara flashed the light at the little love seat by her desk where visitors to the eleventh floor offices usually sat until they were called to their appointments. The Doctor glanced over and said, "Right" before dropping the cover to the light box and adjusting his bow tie.

Clara switched the lamp on and was amazed at how the light from one bulb managed to pierce the darkness with such range. She kind of liked the atmosphere of the office in low light; it made her think of candlelight and how beautiful the world could be when it wasn't drowning in florescent lighting.

"I don't know about you, but I could do with a cup of tea," Clara said. "Kitchen's that way."

The Doctor raised a hand for her to lead the way, even though Clara was fairly certain he knew where everything was in this office. He was often up here working on someone's computer, installing software or fixing problems that the technologically illiterate inflicted upon the poor machines.

They kept the door open in case the deliveryman were to knock on the door. The Doctor commented on how odd it was that an office delivery would take place after working hours.

"You're telling me," Clara replied with mild frustration as she flipped the switch on the electric kettle. The only light in the kitchen came from her phone. Clara watched the Doctor out of the corner of her eye as she pulled two mugs and two tea bags from the cabinets. He stood behind her with his hands on his hips, watching her every move with a sort of curiosity she couldn't describe. She started to feel stage fright.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" she finally asked.

The Doctor looked a bit stunned. "Sorry?"

"You keep looking at me like… I don't know, you're waiting for something."

"Sorry. No, I'm just waiting on tea."

Clara was glad it was dark because she started flushing a bright pink. It wasn't necessarily from embarrassment, rather the awkwardness of the whole situation.

She pulled the carton of milk from the refrigerator and the box of sugar from the counter and prepared their tea. The Doctor smiled when she handed him his cup and she found herself smiling back at him.

"You know how I like my tea?"

"Well, yeah," she replied simply. "You're not that much of a mystery, Doctor."

Clara took a sip from her mug and grabbed her phone from the counter. The Doctor followed her back to the sofa by reception and they both had a seat. They looked at the door to the office for the deliveryman but apparently he didn't materialise at their will. Clara sighed and the Doctor turned to her curiously.

"Have you always wanted to be a receptionist, Clara?"

She half-snorted in response. "No. I don't think many little girls dream of answering phones and resisting the urge to play solitaire all day."

"What did you dream of, then?" he asked before taking a sip of tea.

Clara stared up at the darkened ceiling thoughtfully. "I wanted to be a professional horse-rider for a long time. Then I actually rode a horse and discovered it was much less glamorous an undertaking than I'd imagined."

The Doctor laughed a little too long at the image of Clara riding a horse. She glared at him through the semi-darkness.

"What about you, Doctor? Always wanted to work in IT?"

He finished taking another sip of tea and shrugged indecisively. "I always did enjoy computers, even as a kid. Back before the internet was a big thing. I bet you don't remember that, do you?"

Clara narrowed her eyes. "How old do you think I am?"

He chuckled as if he'd just made a hilarious joke. Clara grew concerned.

"I like figuring out how they work. But no, I wanted to be an explorer. Everyone acts like we know where everything is in the world, every island, every civilisation. But I reckon there's plenty out there that's lost or undiscovered, by me, at least."

Throughout his little speech, Clara could only stare at him and smile. "I like yours better than mine," she said. "Did you ever do any exploring?"

"Yeah, but my mum always called it 'getting lost.'"

Clara laughed. "I always wanted to travel. I've been to France a few times, but never anywhere else."

"Ah. Parlez-vous français?"

Clara's eyes widened. "Um… Un petit peu?" She laughed nervously. "Do you?"

"Bien sûr."

"Do you speak any other languages?"

He shrugged again. "The Romance languages are easy. I'm pretty good at German and Russian. My Cantonese is rubbish, but I'm alright with Mandarin. I really want to learn Arabic or Farsi, or… What?"

Clara stared at him. "Is there anything you cannot do?"

An almost sad smile graced his lips. "Oh, Clara. There's plenty I can't do."

She tore her gaze from his and sipped her tea in silence. Her cup was almost empty; she didn't know what she'd do with herself when she didn't have her tea to occupy her.

"You really don't have to stay until the deliveryman comes," she said.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No," she said quickly. "That's not what I meant. I just reckoned you've probably got better things to do with your time."

"What's wrong with spending my time with you?"

Clara didn't know how to respond. The Doctor's gaze lowered to her lips and Clara felt her heart race. She felt herself leaning ever so slightly towards him, the silence between them unbearable and almost frightening.

It was interrupted when the ding of the lifts announced the deliveryman's arrival. Clara suddenly felt like she'd imagined the moment between them and she jumped to her feet. "I think he's here."

Clara buzzed the man in and signed for the package with a nervous haste. Her heart was still pounding in her chest as she took the box over to her desk and set it down. She turned back around to find the Doctor standing in front of the sofa with his shoulders hunched and his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets.

"Guess it's time to go home," he said.

"Right, yeah. Thanks for waiting with me."

"Of course. It was nice of you to do this. For Jenny and Vastra."

Clara smiled. "Yeah, well they earn it by being rather nice themselves."

They stared at each other for a long time. Clara almost laughed to dispel the tension.

"Oh! The mugs." She picked up their empty cups of tea. "Ought to wash these."

The Doctor followed her into the kitchen. He insisted on washing his own mug, and then they both grabbed their coats and headed towards the lifts. Neither of them said a word on the ride down from the eleventh floor. Clara didn't even look at him; she didn't know what she would do or say if he looked back at her. Things had gotten awkward between them very quickly.

"I guess I'll see you Monday, if you're out and about," she said once they were outside the building. It was absolutely freezing and a stiff wind blew her hair into her face.

"Yeah. I guess so."

"'Kay. Good night, then," she said, turning on her heel to walk away.

She'd gone two steps before, "What are you doing this weekend?"

"Sorry?" she said, turning around.

"I was just thinking… Maybe you and I could meet each other for coffee. If you weren't busy, and you know, you wanted to."

Clara chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully and walked up to him without saying a word. She could tell he was hanging on her every breath, so perhaps it was a little cruel for her to hesitate as much as she did. "You'll need my number."

He smiled hesitantly and pulled out his mobile, which had to be at least six years old. It had an antenna. Not exactly what she expected of a computer guy who worked for a major tech company, nor one who lived in such a modern flat.

She gave him her number and watched as he dialled it into his phone. He flipped it shut and smiled like he couldn't help himself. "I'll be in touch. Goodnight, Clara."

"Goodnight, Doctor."

They walked in opposite directions, him towards the busier street to hail a cab and her towards the nearest underground station. She had just turned the corner when her phone rang with an unfamiliar number. Clara stopped walking and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Ah, Clara. I'm glad I caught you."

A grin crept across her face. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

The Doctor chuckled on the other end of the line. "Well, time is a terrible thing to waste."