Chapter Ten
The holiday season arrived earlier and earlier each year, or at least that was how it seemed to Jenny. She didn't mind extending the festivities, although a disenchanted part of her realised that the consumer-driven companies were just drawing in more money by marketing Christmas earlier and earlier each year. It was funny how bitter she could feel towards the marketing departments of consumer-driven companies given her position. Vastra argued that they were more research-driven and marketed their products to private buyers, but they still latched onto the holiday for the expense of marketing. Jenny wondered if anything was sacred anymore.
Right before lunch early in December, Jenny knocked on Vastra's door and poked her head in. "Hey. Wanna grab some lunch?"
Jenny could almost see the gears turning in her head as Vastra gazed at the papers on her desk with a mild sort of panic. "Yes," Vastra said finally. "Let me grab my purse."
The two walked arm in arm across the street to the little café where many TARDIS employees gathered during their lunch breaks. Jenny wasn't much for coffee, but she loved having the rich aroma permeate her very pores as she entered the little shop. After ordering their food, the two found a free table near the door and settled in. Vastra asked if Jenny had heard more from her brother since his birthday and Jenny couldn't help but smile at her wife. Vastra was always juggling at least thirty different things at any given time, but she never forgot about what was going on in Jenny's life.
The sound of a familiar laugh drew Jenny's attention away from their table. With a smile, she tapped Vastra's foot with the toe of her boot to get her attention and nodded to where the Doctor and Clara were sitting on the other side of the shop. For a moment the two women just watched as the Doctor and Clara held their sandwiches in front of them, almost forgotten as they continued to talk animatedly to each other. When Clara laughed again, Vastra turned around with a smile and said, "Well. That's working out better than I'd hoped."
"How do you mean?" Jenny asked, puzzled.
Vastra's eyes lowered to her sandwich as she removed the plastic wrapping. "The Doctor was in my office when I was looking through the applications for the new receptionist. He seemed to know Clara Oswald, at least by her name. He was certainly interested to know if she was the same one he knew."
"Is she?"
"I believe so," Vastra replied, turning to glance back over her shoulder as if the answer were hovering in the air over the Doctor's head. "I asked him shortly after the incident with the construction crew and he told me that he'd met her before, but she didn't remember him."
"That's funny," Jenny said with a bemused laugh. "Who could forget someone like the Doctor?"
Vastra frowned lightly at her sandwich. "I think she may have met him during the period where he didn't want to be noticed."
Jenny couldn't help but frown in remembrance of that time. It was hard to see someone like the Doctor fall into such a dark place. "Seems to be noticing him now, doesn't she?"
Vastra failed to hold back a smile. "Yeah, she does."
The annual Christmas party at TARDIS Industries was in full swing when the Doctor finally left the IT office that evening. The celebration took place on each floor that the TARDIS offices occupied and saw most of its employees going up and down the lifts to visit the different party stations. The IT office that the Doctor and Strax worked in was too small to host a party, and was actually a satellite office located on a floor largely occupied by another company. So, naturally, the Doctor and Strax adopted the eleventh floor marketing offices as their second home.
The lifts were full of giddy employees wearing reindeer antlers and paper crowns when the Doctor stepped on. His car stopped at every floor between seven and eleven before he finally reached his destination. He had this moment of panic when he arrived to the crowded conference room that she wouldn't be there, but it wasn't long before he spotted her talking to the man next to the bowl of eggnog.
"Doctor!" Clara called with a little wave as he approached.
The Doctor clapped hand on Wilfred Mott's shoulder at them both. "Already into the eggnog, Clara? Best not drink too much," he advised with eyebrows raised.
Instead of blushing at the memory of Jenny's party, Clara narrowed her eyes in what was clearly a warning. The Doctor simply chuckled. "I see you've still got plenty left, Wilf."
"Had to bring a double batch, didn't I?" Wilfred replied. He pointed to a huge plastic barrel on a table by the wall and the Doctor's eyes bulged. "Always run out before the end of the night. But not this year." Wilfred cackled victoriously. "Not this year."
The Doctor moved to where he was standing beside Clara and lowered his head. "And what did you bring to the party?"
Clara said 'ah!' in response to his question and grabbed his free hand before leading him through the crowded conference room to her desk at reception. It was customary for each employee to bring a snack of some sort for the celebration. The Doctor always forgot when the party was even with constant reminders, so he never brought anything.
Clara's desk was lined with a strand of garland lit with fairy lights and red velvet bows. The Doctor watched her go behind her desk, a proud smile on her face as she pulled something out of a plastic-covered plate.
"I made little gingerbread people. I drew little suits and briefcases on them all with icing, which was a lot of fun, but this one is for you."
She placed the cookie on a napkin and handed it to him. On it was his signature bowtie, jacket, and even the swoosh of his hairstyle rendered perfectly in icing. The Doctor couldn't help but grin with delight.
"You made me into a cookie. It's cookie me! Will it be considered cannibalism if I eat it?"
Clara snorted. "If you like. Wait, though! I want to take a picture. Hold it up."
The Doctor posed with the little cookie version of himself so that Clara could take a picture on her phone. After she gave him the all clear he bit off the right hand and debated giving Clara his gift now. They were mostly alone, save for the employees filling up the conference room twenty feet away and a few who were milling in and out of the doorway. Not that they needed to be alone.
Throwing caution to the wind, the Doctor pulled a little rectangular box from the inside of his jacket and held it out for Clara. "I got you a little something as well."
She stared at the box in surprise and smiled. "Doctor… You didn't have to get me anything."
"Course I did. It's Christmas!"
Clara glanced back and forth between the box and his eyes before finally lifting the lid and gazing at what was inside. She didn't react at first, which made the Doctor regret every decision he's ever made in his life for about two seconds, and then she started giggling.
"What is this?" she asked in amusement, holding up the thumb-sized trinket for him to view.
"It's Princess Leia!"
"I can see that, but what—Oh! It's a USB drive! Oh my god!" She pulled the cap off, which just happened to be Princess Leia's head, and continued laughing. "This is brilliant! Thank you."
Clara leaned into him for a hug and the Doctor didn't know how to react. This sort of thing should come naturally to a person, but he couldn't decide whether or not he should continue leaning against the taller edge of her desk or if he should stand up straight when he wrapped his arm around her (should he wrap both arms around her?) Since she was about a foot shorter than he was, he stayed put.
The hug didn't last very long, but there was a moment that felt almost infinite. Clara's posture shifted and he could tell that their proximity was affecting her in the same way he always felt it affect him. Her cheeks were lightly flushed when she stepped back. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and breathed a little laugh.
"You do realise that we both gave each other little replicas of ourselves."
The Doctor laughed suddenly. "Yeah. You know, I think it's better we not analyse that too closely."
The Doctor laughed suddenly. "Yeah. You know, I think it's better we not analyse that too closely."
He liked to make her laugh. She had such an infectious smile, the kind of smile a man would kill to see just once in his lifetime.
"So is there a party going on in the IT office?" Clara asked.
"Oh, no," he laughed in response. "Ha. It's, uh, quite too small for a party. Just me and Strax, anyway. Could you imagine the snacks?"
"Really? It's seriously just you and Strax working IT for the entire company?"
He leaned against the desk again and placed his other hand on his hip. "Impressed?"
"More like doubtful," she replied with narrowed eyes. "Let me see this office of yours. Seventh floor, yeah?"
"What?" He didn't know why, but the idea of Clara walking into his office sent up a red flag. It wasn't an exceptionally personal space, but it wasn't somewhere he received visitors. "Um, yeah. Sure. Okay. Let's go."
The Doctor followed Clara down the corridor to the lifts and watched her press the down button. All he could think of was the half dozen empty cups of tea littering his desk, or the receipts and junk mail that gathered up space in a disorganised manner. The Doctor bit the head off his gingerbread man and tried not to think of it as putting the little guy out of his misery.
Once they stepped onto the seventh floor, however, he started to feel rather excited. The Doctor kept a lot of secrets, mostly to keep people at a distance, and his job in IT was a way for him to hide from his past. And the more he was with Clara, the less he wanted standing in between them. He wanted desperately to be close to someone, to be close to her, but was terrified of what would happen if he let someone in again. It never ended well.
When they reached the door, the Doctor pulled his key card from his pocket and punched the code on the door to unlock it. The big reveal when they stepped inside and he turned on the light was a bit anticlimactic, but Clara stood there and soaked it all up with her eyes like the mundane environment was somehow fascinating.
"I'm guessing this desk is yours?" she said, pointing to the messy one.
"How'd you guess?"
"I dunno. It's got more personality. Also this one has a name plate that says 'Thomas Strax' on it."
She lifted it off of Strax's desk to show the Doctor, then lowered it and gazed at him curiously. "Does yours have one?"
The Doctor shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and shook his head. He could tell she was desperate to know his name, even though she had only ever really asked for it once. She was doing a good job of pretending that her curiosity wasn't killing her, so he tried his best not to enjoy keeping the secret too much. It wasn't a fun secret to keep, but he couldn't help but smile at her feigned disinterest.
Clara walked over to his desk and fiddled around with a few items that weren't just rubbish, like his keyboard, a few pens, the ear pierce he wore whenever he was working. When her fingers grazed the post-it taped to his monitor, however, the Doctor rushed forward and grabbed both of her wrists, startling her.
"Don't do that," he said softly. "Please."
She stared at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry."
The Doctor sighed and shook his head. "No. No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," she assured him, although she still spoke as if she were trying to appease a wild animal.
The Doctor loosened his grip on her wrists and stroked her skin with the back of his thumbs. He didn't even realise he was doing it; it was like he was trying to smooth away any pain he had inflicted upon her. He hated to think that she was frightened of him, even for a moment. The last thing he wanted Clara to feel is unsafe with him. He wanted quite the opposite.
Her hands curled around his wrists and the Doctor met her gaze. Despite how much time they'd been spending together recently, he didn't know Clara Oswald that well. She charming and beautiful and always kind, especially whenever he needed her to be. He couldn't figure her out, and it was killing him.
"Clara…"
The Doctor didn't know what to say, so he didn't speak. Instead, he closed the space between them and captured her lips with his in a chaste kiss. Clara stiffened with surprise and he panicked, but when she relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck he closed his eyes and deepened the kiss. Their lips finally separated with a soft smack and the Doctor stared at her, now even more at a loss for words. The overwhelming emotions he felt rendered him speechless and his heart beat wildly in his chest as her eyes met his.
There was a part of him that knew why he kissed and could acknowledge what it was that drew her towards him and kept her interest, but it was buried deep in regret and self-loathing. He should back away now and tell her she was wasting her time with him, that she ought to find someone less damaged, less selfish. Less afraid.
But that other part of him, while difficult to acknowledge, was also difficult to control. The Doctor cradled the side of her face with one hand before dipping forward to kiss her again. Clara's fingers tangled into his hair and she returned the kiss gently. Her lips tasted of nutmeg and cinnamon and hint of bourbon.
He knew he owed her an explanation, but didn't know where to begin. He broke the kiss and placed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, as he listened to their breaths mingle. He was quite certain he was falling in love with her but was so afraid to admit it to himself that he couldn't even fathom confessing the truth to her.
Luckily, Clara broke the silence first. "I was wondering if you were ever going to do that. I was getting right impatient."
The Doctor couldn't help but laugh. "I'm surprised you didn't take matters into your own hands."
"You know me well."
He smiled broadly at her and smoothed her hair away from her face. "I hope I'm starting to," he replied earnestly.
"The post-it note…"
His smile faded.
"It's something important?"
The Doctor swallowed around a lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. "Yes."
"I understand," she said with a nod.
Clara lifted her right hand, upon which were a number of rings. She fiddled with the one on her middle finger.
"This was my mum's. It was a birthday present from her mum when she was sixteen, and that's… that's how old I was when she died. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to it." Their eyes met once again and Clara smiled; the Doctor could see the gears shifting in her mind. "Merry Christmas, Doctor."
His face broke out with a smile. "Merry Christmas, Clara."
"You think we should go back up to the party?"
"I was thinking about going home, actually." Clara quirked an eyebrow. "No, I didn't mean that you…. Shut up!"