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Chapter 13: The Soufflé is the Recipe.

Clara was surprised to wake up to the feel of a warm chest against her back.

She lay quietly, trying to control her breathing so she wouldn't wake Matt up just yet. It was still early, only 7:00 by her clock. They could afford a few more moments of peace.

She smiled a little. It was Christmas morning.

Clara jumped when her alarm clock went off, and she felt Matt stir against her. She reached out, her fist slamming down on the offending sound as he rolled away to stretch.

"Morning," he mumbled through a wide yawn.

Clara turned over, and propped herself up on one elbow. "Merry Christmas."

Matt's eyes lit up, and he beamed. "That's right!" He jumped out of bed, running around to grab on to her wrist. "Come on, it's Christmas!"

Clara laughed as he tried to haul her out of bed. "Give me just a moment, I only just woke up."

"Clara," Matt whined. "Come on, we have things to do before our folks get here!"

Her eyes darkened with realization, and she brought up a hand to her mouth with a slight gasp. "I didn't get my family anything. I bought presents for your family weeks ago, but I didn't think I would…"

Matt gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it."

Clara raised her eyebrows. "Have you met my aunt? She's going to murder me for this. I don't want to give her anymore fuel, and when she sees this she'll—"

Matt placed a hand on her mouth, and she glared at him. He removed it with a slight smile. "I said, don't worry about it. Come down, I'll explain."

She narrowed her eyes, but gave in with a tired puff of air. "Oh fine, go on down then, I'll be right behind you."

He gave her a beaming smile, and planted a sloppy kiss on her forehead before running for the door.

"Oh!" He cried, barely managing to stop himself from falling as he abruptly spun around in the doorway of her room. He stopped with his hand on the doorframe, his eyes suddenly serious. "How did you sleep?"

Clara smiled softly, and rubbed her arms. "Much better."

Matt's face crinkled into a wide smile before he dashed down the stairs.

Clara giggled to herself, and stood, reaching for the dressing gown that was hanging on the back of her door and tying it around her waist tightly.

She sucked in a deep breath, and headed out to join Matt downstairs.

He was impatiently waiting for her on the couch; Clara's present to him sitting in his lap while he held onto a silver wrapped package tightly. At his feet, Clara could see two battered stockings spilling their contents out onto the floor.

She grinned, and glanced at the tree, her eyes widening when she saw that the number of presents there had doubled. "How did this happen?"

Matt's eyes sparkled, and he held up a piece of paper. "We had a visitor."

Clara raised her eyebrows. "Did we?"

"An intruder is more like it, I would say."

Clara gave him a curious look, and glanced down at the paper in her hands.

Clara,

It is my understanding that you have some last minute visitors coming today, and don't have the time to find gifts for them. I hope these will suffice.

Merry Christmas,

Santa

She looked back up at Matt with a warm smile. "Did you talk to our intruder?"

He grinned. "Not really, I caught him as he was leaving."

"I see." She bit her lip, and flitted to Matt's side, taking her place next to him on the couch. "Gimme." She held out her hand playfully.

He smirked, and handed her the present. "Merry Christmas, Clara."

She grinned. "Merry Christmas." They both held up their presents, and Clara laughed when Matt shook his a bit. "Ready?"

He nodded. "Three…two…one!"

They both tore off the wrapping paper of their gifts with a few quick flicks of their wrists.

Clara's eyes widened as she opened the lid of the small box and allowed her fingers to hover over the shiny metal of the star-shaped earrings.

"They're beautiful" she whispered, and looked up at Matt. "Thank you."

He was preoccupied with the gift she had given him, but looked up to give her a warm smile. "You're welcome."

She smiled as his attention returned to the book, his fingers tracing the gold lettering of the front. "Do you like it? It's a book of quotes, I just thought, since you read so much, that you might appreciate it."

He looked up at her with a smile, and pulled her in for a warm hug. "I love it."

She grinned. "My favorite quote is on the cover." She reached out to trace the gold lettering with her fingers. "'Waste no more time arguing what a good man should be. Be one.'"

Matt raised his eyebrows. "Marcus Aurelius."

Clara grinned, and nodded.

"I wouldn't have pegged you to be a fan of Romans."

She shrugged. "A great mind is a great mind, regardless of race or place of origin."

He smiled at her, an unreadable look in his eyes. Clara felt herself blush as her heart did that funny skip again, causing her eyes to drop away from him. "Um, so, we should probably start getting ready. They're all probably on their way by now."

Matt jerked out of his reverie. "Right, yes. You can go shower first, I'll get started on breakfast. Be quick, though, I'd like to get our session out of the way today if we can."

Clara raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Go, before I change my mind."

She grinned and jumped up for the stairs.

"Oh, and Clara!"

She paused, and half turned to face him again, "Yeah?"

Matt gave her a strange smile. "I'm glad I met you."

She grinned. "Me too."

Clara got herself ready in record time, throwing on a dark sweater over a white blouse and a festive plaid skirt.

She smiled as she put in Matt's earrings, letting them sway a little before running back downstairs. Matt was waiting for her in his study, a plate of cinnamon rolls on his desk and two cups of warm tea in hand.

She took one of the mugs with a grateful nod, and the two of them sat down. This was still a part of their routine, the cinnamon rolls and tea only being added on after she moved in.

Matt prepared his papers and flipped on his recorder. "Alright, today is December 25, 2012 and it's…almost 8:30 in the morning." He clicked his pen a couple of times while he glanced down at his notes. "So, Clara…last time we talked a little about your dad, what can you tell me about your mum?"

Clara bit her lip. "Well, that depends. What do you want to know?"

Matt shrugged. "Oh, I don't know; anything you can tell me. What was she like? What did she like to do? What kind of memories do you have of her?"

Clara's lips twitched. "Well…you should have tasted her soufflés."

He raised an eyebrow. "Soufflés?"

Clara grinned. "Yeah, I would make you one, but I never get it right."

"Why not?"

She shrugged, "Never the right recipe. It's like she used to say: the soufflé isn't the soufflé, the soufflé is the recipe. Without that, you don't have anything."

Matt snorted. "Was you're mum deep on puddings?"

Clara smiled. "She was a great woman."

He gave her a warm grin. "I'll bet."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Next question."

Clara nearly jumped out of her skin when they were interrupted by the sound of someone banging on the front door.

She glanced at Matt. "My money is on my family."

He nodded. "You win." Matt stood, and headed towards the front.

Clara followed him hesitantly, half hiding by the bottom of the stairs. She gave Matt an encouraging smile when he stopped in front of the door; glancing over his shoulder to raise his eyebrows at her.

"Ready?"

She pulled in a breath, and nodded. "Open it."

Matt unlocked the door, and opened it with a welcoming smile. "Merry Christmas!"

Linda stood unimpressed, her arms wrapped around a box of shiny presents and her lips pulled into a thin line. "They're getting food out of the car, you should go help."

Matt faltered, his smile tilting off to the side as she shoved past him and headed for Clara. "Right, I'll just…" He awkwardly snapped his fingers and headed outside.

Clara's muscles were tense, her every nerve a live wire as her aunt approached her. "It's nice to see you again, Linda."

Her aunt surprised her by opening her arms wide. "Oh c'mere you."

Clara blinked, and then stood to allow Linda to wrap her arms around her waist. Clara hesitantly hugged her back, her muscles ready to shove her aunt away at any moment.

"I've missed you," Linda said quietly as they pulled away. "A lot."

Clara was still wary, her eyes narrowing only slightly at her aunt's comment. She seemed pleasant enough, but that could change at any moment. "Me too."

They both glanced up as Clara's gran stumbled in, a large plate of cookies in hand.

"Oh, mum, let me take those." Linda rushed forward and snatched the plate away from Gran, quickly spinning around on her heel. "Kitchen?"

Clara pointed out the direction, and waited until her aunt was out of sight before turning back to give her gran a gentle hug.

"Oh dear, I've missed you."

Clara smiled as she pulled away, looping her arm over her Gran's shoulders. "How are you, Gran?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, dear, I'm always the same. What about you? Looks to me like you've made yourself a lovely friend."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Matt's a great guy, he was very kind to take me in."

Gran giggled. "And he's a pretty boy, although, that chin…"

"Gran!"

She laughed and patted Clara's cheek affectionately. "I'll behave, promise. I can't say as much for your aunt, though, or your dad."

Clara's face pinched up in a grimace. "Has Linda been talking to him?"

"Clara!" Linda's nasally voice rang. "Come help me."

"Coming, Linda." Clara rolled her eyes, glancing back as Matt and her father stumbled back into the flat and moving out of their way as they all but shoved past her and her Gran.

"Coming through!" Matt cried.

Dave gave his daughter a hesitant smile as he passed her. "Hi, Clara."

She swallowed. "Hi."

Gran gave her a slight nudge as Dave followed Matt into the kitchen. Clara gave her a withering look, but Gran only chuckled. "Go on, he missed you."

Clara snorted, and headed for the kitchen.

Linda was already bustling about like a mad chicken, throwing her hands up in the air every other moment and loudly shuffling her feet against the linoleum.

"Really, Mr. Smith, when was the last time you updated this kitchen? How do you even function without a dishwasher?" Her voice pulled up two octaves as she rattled Matt's cabinets, looking for some object she refused to ask for.

Matt shot Clara a look, and shrugged. "I had a dishwasher, once, but the two of us had a disagreement."

Clara's father raised his eyebrows. "What did it do, break all of your teacups?"

"No, it…it refused to turn on." Matt opened a cabinet over Linda's head and handed her the glass she was looking for.

"Refused to turn on?" Clara asked. "Did you try the power-switch?"

Matt shrugged. "Couldn't find it. Anyway! Oswalds, I'm Matt, I've been taking care of Clara since she moved out with her aunt. It's nice to meet you all."

Clara stood slightly mortified as he proceeded to extend one hand to her father, his beaming smile faltering slightly when his handshake was not accepted.

Gran interrupted the silence before it could get awkward. "Hello there."

Matt smiled at her, and took her hand gently. "It's lovely to meet you."

"And you," she glanced him up and down, "very nice."

"Mother!" Linda snapped.

Clara burst out laughing when Matt's face turned beat-red, his hand slowly dropping back to his side. He reached up to fiddle with his bowtie, and cleared his throat loudly. "Yes…well, my family should be here soon…ah, I'll be right back…"

Clara couldn't stop her snickering as he half ran out of the kitchen, making a beeline for the stairs.

Gran glanced at her. "Was it something I said?"

Dave rolled his eyes, and kissed her cheek. "Absolutely. Clara, could I tear you away for a moment?"

Clara bit her lip. "Dad, Linda really needs my help in here, maybe I should—"

"No, no, go ahead. I'll call you when I need you," Linda said, and then continued to grumble about the state of Matt's pots under her breath.

Gran picked up a packet of lettuce and nodded. "Yes, Clara, I think we can handle it. Go catch up with your dad."

Clara shot her a glare, but followed her father back out into the living room. Dave was looking over Matt's collection of CD's, nodding to himself whenever he found something he liked.

"Dad?"

Her father spun around on his heel, closing the glass door of the cabinet with a little more force than necessary. "Yes, hi, um…" he shifted on his feet and his eyes looked at everything but her.

Clara sat on one of the couches, every muscle in her body tensed. "Do you want to sit?"

"Yes," Dave said quickly, his tone somewhat relieved as he took the seat that was as far away from her as possible.

"You wanted to talk?" Clara prompted after a few seconds of awkward silence passed.

Dave rubbed his hands together. "Yes. I, um…I just wanted to see how you were doing. Your aunt was telling me about what happened between you two…" He glanced up at her with a spark of something that looked like regret in his eyes. "If I had known…"

Clara shook her head. "Don't. I don't want to hear it, Dad, I just don't."

"Clara, whatever you may think of me, I am still your dad, I care about you."

She let out a soft breath. "I know that, but care is very different when compared to love, Dad. Trust me."

Dave's shoulders seemed to sag under her words. "Clara, I know you have no reason to, but…after your mum died I sort of lost it, and then when you…"

"Go on, spit it out, then." Clara could feel irritation stirring in her, she knew exactly what her father wanted to say, and it infuriated her that he would even attempt it now.

"I'm sorry, Clara. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I'm sorry."

Clara stayed still as Dave stared at her with his features formed into something that was probably supposed to look like remorse.

She stood. "Let's just get through Christmas, yeah?" A knock sounded at the door, and Clara stepped around Dave. "That would be the Tylers."

"Clara…" Dave stood to grab her arm.

She managed to duck around him, and opened the door with a wide smile. "Merry Christ—oof." She was cut off by a small blur of blond running into her arms for a hug.

"Mm, I missed you," Jenny said, handing Clara a small package as they parted.

Clara gave her a breathless laugh, still unused to the amount of energy Matt's sister always exuded. "Come in, Jenny. That's my father by the couch."

Jenny glanced over at Dave and held out her hand with a polite smile. "Hi, name's Jenny."

"Dave Oswald." Clara's father took Jenny's hand and glanced up at his daughter. "I don't think Clara ever mentioned that Matt had a sister."

"Well, I'm hurt." Jenny widened her eyes and melodramatically placed one hand over her heart. "Clara, did I not make a big enough impression?"

Clara laughed nervously, and felt a wave of relief as Matt came running back down the stairs.

"Jen!" he cried.

"Johnny!" Jenny ran to yank her brother into a fierce hug, squealing happily as he picked her up and spun her around.

Clara felt a ray of warmth spread across her chest as she watched the two of them. Matt's face had shifted, his features becoming boyish as he set Jenny down. Clara loved the fact that Jenny had the ability to make Matt revert back to a younger version of himself, one that was still a child at heart.

"Clara Oswald, it's good to see you again!"

Clara's face lit up as David's voice came bouncing up the stairwell. "You too, David."

Matt's dad dropped a bag full of packages by the door and pulled her into an affectionate hug, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I hope Matt's been treating you alright, sweetheart."

Clara grinned. "Of course he has."

Rose came up behind him, a tray of roasted potatoes in her hands and a soft smile on her face. "Hi, Clara."

Clara smiled back. "Hi, Rose, do you need help with that?"

Rose waved her off. "Oh no, just point me in the direction of the kitchen."

She glanced back at where her family had now gathered in the doorway of the kitchen, and bit her lip. "That way."

David and Jenny came to stand with Rose as she smiled at Clara's family. "Hi, my name's Rose Tyler. This is my husband, David, and our daughter, Jenny."

Linda raised her eyebrows. "I thought it was Smith."

"No, we're Matt's adopted parents." David explained, holding out a hand to Clara's father. "It's lovely to meet you."

Dave took his hand firmly. "You as well, I'm Dave, Clara's father."

"A fellow Dave! I suppose we'll have to start calling ourselves Dave one and two." David let out a hearty laugh.

Clara's father gave him a small, nervous smile. "I suppose so."

Clara fell back to Matt's side and the two of them watched their family's greet each other with wary interest.

Clara crossed her arms. "Well, my gran seems to like your family at least." She nodded to where her grandmother was sharing a joke with Jenny and Rose.

Matt bit his lip. "That's something, I guess…"

They glanced at each other, and Clara let out a tired breath as she leaned against him. "It's going to be a long day…"

Dinner passed with a thick cloud of tension hanging around the room. Clara could feel it closing up her throat as she tried to swallow down the last of her pudding, her eyes watching her father and Linda closely. Rose and David had tried hard to hold conversations with them, doing their very best to be as pleasant as ever, but both Dave and Linda refused to even pretend to like the couple.

Linda sat with the same cold expression she had worn all day as they finally stood to clear the table. "Let me take that, Clara."

"No, Linda, it's fine. You cooked, I can clean."

Linda huffed, and snatched the plate out of her hands. "Oh, don't be difficult."

Clara stared at her as she turned and marched over to the sink with quick steps. She saw Jenny watching her with a slightly surprised expression on her face. Clara wanted to blush under her stare, and hurried out of the room.

She sat on the couch, and didn't look up as Jenny sat beside her.

"Does she always speak to you that way?"

Clara sighed. "She didn't use to, not until…" she waved her hands around helplessly.

Jenny wrapped her arm around Clara's shoulders. "I'm sorry."

Clara shook her head. "Don't be."

Jenny bit her lip. "I don't really have any kind of experience with this. I mean, my mum was an alcoholic, but that's not quite the same, I know. I don't know what I can tell you that will make you feel better; except that you have me, and David, and Rose. They already think of you as a daughter, you know that right? As for me, anyone who Matt likes as much as he likes you is a friend to me."

Clara smiled. "Thanks, Jenny."

She gave Clara's shoulder a shake. "Now, what do you say we get these presents sorted?"

Clara allowed Jenny to pull her off of the couch, halfheartedly going through the familiar motions of sorting gifts into small piles around the room.

She smiled when she heard David and Matt laughing loudly with her dad from the study.

Clara was sometimes jealous of the relationship Matt had with his dad when compared to her own. And, although she would never say it out loud, the fact that David wasn't even Matt's real father only made it sting all the worse. Shouldn't she have that kind of a relationship with her dad? The kind where it was easy to laugh and to talk about anything with him, the kind where she didn't have to wonder if he was going to run off at any given second—the kind where she didn't wonder if he was afraid of her.

"I'll get the boys," Jenny said, rolling her eyes as she stood up.

Clara fiddled with a dark red ribbon that was wrapped around a small blue package, trying to gather herself again. She shouldn't let Linda's words bother her, she should be used to them by now, and yet she was still obsessing—still feeling the sting of the blow.

"Present time?" Rose's voice made her look up.

Clara nodded. "I think so."

"I'll get the other two," Rose offered, and Clara felt her entire body relax as she disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Present time, present time!" Matt clapped his hands like a toddler and rushed over to his pile, Jenny and David right on his heels. The three of them all had an identical expression—eyes bright, cheeks flushed, and hair in every direction it could possibly go.

"Come on Rose, hurry up!" David whined.

"We're coming!" Rose shouted back, her tone surprisingly patient. Clara supposed—based on Matt's description of his dad and Jenny at Christmas—that she was used to this by now.

It took a good five minutes for everyone to settle down and arrange themselves around the living room, and once they did it took another few seconds of awkward stares to see who was going to go first.

"Well." David picked up a bag off the top of his pile. "Shall we get started?"

The rest of the evening seemed to go off without a hitch, and soon enough, Clara found herself relaxing her muscles and fully joining in the conversation. Dave and Linda evidently decided it would be better to make an attempt at friendliness, and spent the rest of the night chatting with Rose and David. Clara's Gran adored both Matt and Jenny, and wasn't at all shy to tell them so. She had embarrassed Matt enough by now that Jenny and Clara had a count going: it had been eleven times so far, and the night was still young.

It wasn't until later in the evening, when everyone was leaving, that things went south again.

The Tylers had left for their car not ten minutes ago, and Clara's family were in search of their coats, when Linda decided to speak up.

"So, Clara, I've been talking to your father—"

"Linda," Gran snapped abruptly. "Leave it."

Her aunt glared, and glanced at Dave. "Do you want to…?"

Dave shifted uncomfortably, and took Clara's hand. "Clara, how would you feel about moving back in with me?"

Clara heard Matt drop the book he was holding, and opened her mouth in search of words. "I…"

"I want to make it all up to you, Clara, not being there for you…I want to fix that. And besides, your aunt is right, you should be with your family." He glanced up at Matt. "You're a nice enough man, Matt, but my daughter needs something more…stable."

Clara snorted and snatched her hand away. "Matt's taken good care of me."

Dave opened his mouth, but Linda beat him to the punch. "Sure he has, Clara, but what happens when he tires of you? What happens when you don't entertain him anymore? What happens when he decides that you're too much to deal with? What's going to happen when you have an episode and you don't have anyone to help you?"

Clara felt tears well up in her eyes. "Is this the only reason you came?" She saw Matt slide away to the far end of the room. She wasn't hurt by his need to escape; she knew watching this was making him uncomfortable. Matt didn't like familial conflict, she knew that, and he had good reason not to.

Her Gran let out a loud huff. "Well now you've gone and done it." She swatted Linda and came over to give Clara a big hug. "Clara, love, you do whatever you think is best. If nothing else, you can count on me to support you. I don't think you have anything to worry about." She kissed Clara's cheek and turned to glare at her children. "Let's go."

Linda let out an irritated huff, and gave Clara a light pat on the cheek as she passed her. "Just think about it, yeah?"

Clara only stared at her as she left.

Dave shuffled passed Clara, only turning to face her once he was on the other side of the doorway. "For what it's worth…I love you, Clara; I only want what's best for you."

Clara didn't respond as he shut the door behind him.

Slowly, she spun around until her eyes settled on Matt. He was watching her closely, his whole posture advertising his discomfort to her.

Clara closed her eyes, and pulled in a deep breath through her nose.

When she opened her eyes, Matt was there, his hands on her shoulders and his face worried.

"Are you okay?" he murmured.

Clara ran her tongue along the tops of her teeth, and forced herself to meet his eyes. "I'm always okay."

Matt swallowed, and glanced at the mess of shredded paper that was still strewn all around the floor. "We should probably clean this up."

She moaned. "Can't it wait until tomorrow? I'm exhausted."

Matt's lips twitched into a slight smile, and he nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Clara kissed his cheek, and spun around to climb the stairs. "I'm going to bed, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Clara."

She stopped, and turned back to look at him. "Yeah?"

His eyes searched her face. "Do you feel safe?"

She cocked her head, and came back down the stairs to stand in front of him again. "What?"

"Do you feel safe, with me?" His face was tense, as if he dreaded her answer.

"Of course," she said simply, not understanding his question.

Matt bit his lip, and flapped his hands around. "Okay, give me a number out of ten: ten being whoo-hoo, one being… argh!"

Clara raised her eyebrows. "You do know that you're being weird, right? More than usual."

"I need to know." He pursed his lips, ignoring her statement. "I need to know you're not afraid."

"Why would I be afraid?"

"Because she's right—"

"No, she isn't," Clara said through tight lips, her hands curling into tiny fists at her sides.

"Yes, she is…" He trailed off. "Clara, you ran away to live with a strange man all alone, in this box of an apartment building. Anything could happen to you."

Clara relaxed as she began to understand the root of his anxiety. A light smile pulled at the corners of her lips, and she squeezed his hand before heading back for the stairs. "That's what I'm counting on."

She paused on the way up, and turned back one more time. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah." He waved a hand. "Merry Christmas, Clara."