(London 1894)

Victorian London bustled, there was no other word for it and Clara tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell, knowing the Doctor would find it far too amusing as us 'poor humans' couldn't turn off our olfactory senses at will, not without holding their nose at any rate.

It seemed dirtier than she remembered, she may have said that out loud.

"Rose tinted glasses." The Doctor explained unnecessarily, "You've been spoiled by the hypoallergenic 21st Century. Don't worry, things tend to take a turn back to the grimier in another few hundred years when people get bored of the plastic lifelessness... and the allergies."

"Where did Madame Vastra say she wanted to meet us?" Clara tried to just breathe through her mouth, but that seemed almost worse and she gave in, hoping she'd just get accustomed to the stench.

The Doctor glanced at his psychic paper. "The Bull Inn." He muttered, straightening his lapels and touching his bowler hat as if to make sure it was still there; she thought he looked like he belonged in the mob squad rather than Victorian London, but she'd been outvoted, he'd even put white spats on to get into the spirit as he called it, which was fine normally, except the effect when combined with his shiny new Doc Martin-esque boots lost some of its distinguished appeal. Although she found it infinitely better than those awful red suede loafers he'd donned on his first outing.

They hadn't mentioned the planet of the Sex Spiders or its aftermath for going on a whole week now, which she was starting to think was probably for the best, at least for her potential impending heartbreak. It had all been business as usual, he'd been his usual gruff and grouchy self. But none of it altered the small slip of metal sonic that was now concealed somewhat dangerously within the cleavage of her distinctive Victorian dress, because unlike the doctor she didn't usually walk around with infinite pockets. Although she was extremely tempted to take him up on his offer of a handbag that was bigger on the inside. That small piece of metal was proof that despite all outward appearances, everything had changed between them.

"Doctor." She asked, not distracting him from the way he was scanning his eyes over the occasional drunken patron emerging from the dingy looking Inn ahead of them.

"Hmm?" He sounded out, clearly waiting for something his arms crossed as he drummed out a pattern that resembled his twin heart beat with his fingers against his arms. She'd attempted to get a glimpse of the psychic paper but he'd been a little too cagey about sharing the details with her.

"What if I run into the Latimer family?" he didn't respond, but that in and of itself was something of an answer, but she wasn't going to let his unease for dealing with the death of her 'other' self potentially cause distress for an entire family. "Those kids went through enough and seeing me, I'd be concerned about stirring up old memories... or scaring them half to death. I'm a ghost to them after all."

The Doctor turned slightly giving her a slow look, his hand briefly brushed her arm before falling away like her touch burned and she imagined he was trying to be comforting, it would have been more effective if he wasn't so determined to distance himself physically from her since that fateful morning. Clearly he really was too afraid of her breaking both his hearts, fortunately for him she was a slow learner and never had been good with his rules.

"I checked." He replied his voice softening a fraction with the admission, "They moved away from London," she gave him a questioning look, people didn't just up and move sticks without a reason, not in this day and age when their fortune and business was in the City. He sighed, his hand touching his brow briefly, a gesture that was entirely his own, "The children were unable to adapt I believe to your loss, they were disturbed by the events here, I suppose living ice would be unnerving. Captain Latimer took them to the coast."

Clara nodded, feeling oddly guilty, it hadn't been her that had died on them after all, but it still felt like her responsibility to look after them. What was more interesting was that the Doctor had bothered to check... that he'd have even considered the families feelings on the matter of her materialising alive and well in their midst again. She took it as a positive sign. Perhaps she was wrong maybe he wasn't suppressing everything that had happened, or the feelings it had unmasked, but she liked to think that it had affected him for the better, even if he was considering other people if only for her sake.

"Thank you." She told him quietly, linking her arm in his and sharing his eye line as she tried to spot what he was looking for in the throng of people emerging onto the street.

"Don't mention it." He replied, looking sideways at her, "Besides you won't be so pleased with me when you find out why we are here." He didn't try to slip his arm out of hers and she slid closer feeling a small thrill of success.

"Jack the Ripper?" she offered and he froze, turning to give her a calculated look.

"You peeked?" he sounded like a disappointed toddler around Christmas time.

She rolled her eyes. "It Victorian London, I took a stab in the dark."

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at her in surprise. "Actually you're half right, although Jack the Ripper was active several years before our current point, our mutual friend Madame Vastra was forced to intercede and... eat the notorious serial killer on the behest of Scotland Yard. I do believe she found him to be somewhat stringy."

Clara winced and tried not to feel a little sick at that, Vastra was unnervingly alien at times, considering she was born on Earth. "So if he's dead, why are we here? She definitely said Jack the Ripper?" Clara questioned and he handed the psychic paper to her with a flourish.

"Curious, I know, why else do you think I accepted." He gave her a small smile and Clara stared at the distinctive penmanship that had once sent her into unconsciousness to join a psychic cross-time Teleconference. 'Doctor, you assistance is required concerning Jack the Ripper. London 1894, July 10th, Whitechapel, the Bull Inn.'

Clara rolled her eyes. "Probably because Vastra got the wrong man, he's going to turn out to be some horrific alien shape-changing menace that we have to eradicate, including all evidence of what he did here."

The Doctor's hand slid to her cheek and he tilted her face up to him, giving her a concerned look. "So embittered and bored of this predictable tale already?" he smirked and she realised how like him she'd sounded, with effort she smiled. "My dear just say the word and we need never bother with Earth again, there are billions of alien worlds out there ripe for exploration. We still never made Berratil." His thumb brushed her cheek and she almost closed her eyes at the sensation which stirred the feelings ignited by the venom far too easily now, ok right, that was why he also didn't touch her as often, she tended to get easily distracted. It almost worked to; she could feel his proximity fogging her mind... but he was here for an old friend, someone that meant a lot to both of them, what kind of moral compass would she be if she didn't force him to see it through.

Leaning her head back and taking her skin out of his reach she forced a smile. "Sounds fascinating." he snorted back at her rolling his eyes and clearly not buying it.

"Be careful dear, your age is starting to show." He tutted, tugging her along with him arm in arm as they headed towards a dim dark alley. That or she was just spending too much time with him, although she chose not share that disturbing thought.

"For the record if any of your plan involves using me as bait for this foul creature then I promise you I will not be pleased." She teased, only half joking.

The Doctor's expression grew fierce and she realised she'd clearly struck a nerve there in appearing to think so little of him. He turned his expression a scowl and she raised her finger to his lips, silencing him. "I was joking." She assured him. "But perhaps we should wait for Madame Vastra, I don't feel like being surprised by the ghost of Jack the Ripper."

The Doctor met her gaze coolly, his expression softening a fraction as she let her finger graze down his chin, the moment lengthening as she couldn't bring herself to break that soul bearing gaze of his.

Someone cleared their throat and Clara dropped her hand quickly as if burned, spinning around to face the accusation. "Well, Clara, won't you introduce me to your new friend?" Madam Vastra's voice rang out through the alley.

Clara opened her mouth to explain and saw the smirk curl Vastra's scaled lips. She stalked forwards, her eyes on the Doctor. "So, I take it you found Trenzalore after all." Clara flinched, the Doctor didn't.

The Doctor stepped forward, his hand out stiffly. "My dear Madame Vastra, such a pleasure and I do believe with these eyes you look greener than ever." She slid her hand into his and he kissed the back of it formerly, not commenting on her astute observation, clearly his years of brooding on her turf had afforded her more than a little insight into what had been eating him during that period.

"Oh my, a silver fox this time Doctor. Positively delicious." The Doctor tipped his hat to her and Clara had only a moment to prepare herself as the disturbingly strong lizard woman from the dawn of time embraced her in a fierce hug.

"How are you my dear, are you recovered?" Clara nodded, trying not to think too hard about the state she'd been in when the Doctor had pulled her out of his time stream. Madam Vastra, Jenny and especially Strax had spent close to a month helping her through her sleepless nights as she awoke screaming convinced she was someone else, reliving death after death. The Doctor had done his best, but at the time he had been a difficult presence to bare given how much of her nightmares had currently involved either the loss of him, or his blinding indifference to her presence.

"I'm good. All better." Clara smiled in what she thought was a convincing enough manner, Vastra linked an arm with her.

"Yes, well Strax will be the judge of that, between the two of us I think he quite enjoys the chance to play nurse maid and you were a particularly challenging patient for him." Vastra was speaking to her but Clara got the distinct impression that she was taking in the measure of the man that was walking a step behind them.

"And this new Doctor. Has he got his training wheels off yet? I can practically smell the regeneration fresh on him." She seemed to taste the air disdainfully.

"The new Doctor is fine and in possession of remarkably good hearing, even several paces apart as we are." The Doctor challenged.

Vastra looked over her shoulder at him. "An angry Scot... oh Strax will be so pleased, it's not even his weekend off."

Clara stifled a snigger at the Doctor's deeply un-amused look.

"Did you call us here just to chit chat my dear, or was there a case that even the great Victorian Veiled Detective can't solve?" His bark was definitely out in full force, Clara didn't particularly want him to show his bite just yet.

Vastra seemed undaunted by it, her smile widening as she took him in, before drawing her veil over her face and leading them back through the alley, away from the Bull's Inn Clara noted. "It seems that the infamous Jack the Ripper may be alive and well."

Clara tried not to give him an 'I told you so look' so she kept her head down, watching her feet.

Vastra continued apparently undaunted by their lack of enthusiasm. "Although my methods are... meticulous, even a great detective can on occasion be fooled, and with this particular case I believe there has been some masterful misdirection involved."

"So you ate the wrong man?" the Doctor asked innocently enough, but Clara could see the amusement there, dark as it was, she shouldn't have found it funny either she told herself, suppressing a smirk at the uncomfortable shifting Madame Vastra was now doing.

"I ate a killer." She hurrumphed. "I apparently ate a 'different' killer to the one I was expecting." They clearly looked unconvinced because she hissed. "I caught the beast red-handed, literally with his blade buried in the gut of poor Mary Kelly. Even a half rate Detective could have deduced murder in that instance."

Clara patted her hand, trying to draw her attention away from the smirking Doctor, after all, they were talking about the death of a woman, however far in the past it seemed to her and the Doctor it was very real in the here and now. "What makes you think he's back now."

"There have been other cases through the years... other reports, copy cats and poor Detective work making links where there aren't any in most cases but," she paused looking uneasy, "there is something stalking Whitechapel. Something I can feel behind my every step. I can taste it in the air... a fear, just like back then."

"You're describing a ghost." Clara pointed out, starting to wonder if she'd been far off the mark with her comment to the Doctor before.

"No... this, it is something in the corner of my eye." Vastra explained.

The Doctor looked faintly interested by that. "I'll admit, there is an unusual... resonance." He admitted looking down the alleys back and forth that Vastra had led them down.

Clara turned looking into the shadows. "Like your being watched."

"Have there been any deaths?" The Doctor pressed.

"Yes. But nothing with his particular style." Vastra sighed. "Doctor... I am concerned not with ghosts but perhaps the idea of one. That fear itself might have taken route along this street."

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow and pulled out his sonic, pointing it into the darkest corner, and then turning to look slowly out of the corner of his eye. Clara didn't like that look he was wearing, pulling her own sonic it out she flipped it into the same corner, not entirely trusting him to tell her what it had revealed. The information resonated and rebounded through the short wave telepathic field it generated, imprinting on her cerebral cortex and making her wish she'd left well enough alone. Clara backed up quickly putting distance between her and the dark shadows, until she hit something solid and warm. The Doctor was scowling down at her, his hands on her shoulders.

"I vote we get out of the dark alley." Clara hissed, not taking her eyes off the shadows.

"You have a sonic." Madame Vastra pointed out, looking more than a little shocked by the revelation and not enough bothered by their whitened faces.

"Yes, long story." Clara stalked forwards, content to lead the way, so long as the way was out of the deep dark alley. "Let's get a move on shall we. Bit nippy out here." She added rubbing her hands together and trying to push the fear away with false bravado and a cheery disposition.

"What is it Doctor?" Vastra asked, hurrying along beside them. "What's hunting here?"

"Your Detective skills my dear are quite astute. There is a tear in the fabric of reality back there, and I'm afraid that the psychic energies and fears fuelled by the Whitechapel murders may have allowed something to coalesce."

"Something like Jack the Ripper?"

Clara gave the Doctor a look, cursing herself for opening her big mouth and jinxing them, he didn't need her help for that at the moment. "Something like Jack the Ripper, armed with the worst fears and nightmares of every poor soul that's passed down this alley." Clara elaborated.

"Imagine a psychic vampire." The Doctor added, which didn't make it sound any better in Clara's opinion. But he was smiling, that manic glint back in his eye which she had to admit she'd missed. "You see Clara, I knew this wouldn't be dull." He grinned at Vastra. "Your adventures never are."