It took a lot less time than Dave thought it would to return the children. The Doctor made a list of their home planets and of the dates from which they had been taken and slowly, like a school bus making the rounds of a neighborhood, he dropped them off at their doorsteps to grateful parents who – thankfully – had only been missing their children for mere moments. The Doctor was careful to leave quickly and soundlessly, because he knew he wouldn't be returning all of the children that had been taken, and Dave could read that sorrow on his face with each close of the Tardis doors beside him.

Registering each planet's loss.

Soon they were back on Earth, back at night, stepping out onto the same moist grass they'd left to find neighbors just coming out of their houses to ask one another questions of confusion and shock. Dave waved as they came out from the side of the house, to a couple that stood gripping their daughter tightly between them as they shared their story with a woman three doors down who was carrying her son against her chest.

"It's the same night, only moments later," Dave said quietly.

Clara pointed back, "He did tell you it was a time machine, didn't he?"

She walked with the Doctor to the front door and they went inside and then casually to the dining room table, both sitting comfortably when Dave entered and closed the door behind him. He looked out at them, starting to eat a meal that was, undoubtedly cold, as if nothing had happened and he moved into the living room, drawing the drapes before turning to stare again. The Doctor ate some roast and began working on his mashed potato snowman and Clara playfully slapped his hand before picking up his snowman and eating it, to the Doctor's dismay and Dave stood, eyes widening as he tried to contemplate their behavior.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" He finally shouted.

They straightened. Clara chewed slowly and the Doctor adjusted the napkin on his right knee before he shook his head and told him, "I thought you understood." Then he winced, "You aren't going to start on the punching again, are you?"

Clara turned, "He punched you?"

"In the face," he allowed before adding, "Twice."

"Dad!"

Dave pressed his fingers into his temples. "My daughter's gone insane."

"Dad."

"No," he pointed, "Insane. This man, is this what you do? This is what you do. I saw the way you worked back there, like it was the most normal thing you'd ever done – this is what you do!" Dave pressed his palms into his waist at each side and his face reddened, "You take my daughter out into space and you put her in danger. You're going to get her killed!"

The Doctor stood, slowly, and he laid the napkin down on the table, swallowing the bite still on his tongue, but before he could speak, Clara shouted, "No."

The men looked to her.

"He doesn't take me, dad, I go with him. He showed up at my doorstep and he saved my life and in turn he offered me a spot on his spaceship. I chose to go with him. I choose to go with him. I put myself in danger and if that makes me mad, then I am properly mad. But it's on me, not him."

Raising a hand slightly, the Doctor conceded, "It might be a little on me."

"You're damned right it is," she hissed at him, before looking at her father, "Do you know why I got caught up in all of this tonight? Because it wasn't him, it was you. I saw, when he was inside my head, I saw what you think of me and it's insulting."

Dave looked stung and he moved forward as Clara stepped away from the table. "Clara…"

"I'm not five anymore!" She reminded. "I'm not the best at being an adult, but I am an adult – I take care of children for a living! Kept this oaf from getting himself killed a few times," she gestured back at the Doctor, who tilted his head slightly and muttered 'Debatable' before Clara laughed, "Dad, you were out there – you saw what's out there."

"I saw a planet full of kids who'd been taken from their parents and were being sold," Dave told her plainly, "Is that what you see?"

Raising a finger, the Doctor supplied, "It's not always so glum."

"I went to Yorkshire, England! Space amusement park! A submarine during the cold war! A planet on the far reaches of space that used emotional value as currency. Dad, I…" she trailed, shaking her head, "I can take care of myself, I can be on my own, I'm not a little kid."

Dave stood quietly, lowering his head before looking up at her in defeat, "Gotcha."

"I don't want to be mean about it, but Dad, this is my life," she raised a palm at the Doctor, who jerked slightly before she corrected with an eye roll, "Travelling with the Doctor, saving the world, it's what we do."

"Until you don't," Dave supplied sadly. Then he looked to the Doctor and asked, "There are no assurances you could ever give, Doctor, to make me feel like my Clara is safe in this life."

"No," Clara told him, "He can't."

"This is why I don't do parents," the Doctor told the table, poking at his roast.

Dave went to slip his chair out and he sat silently, staring at the food on his plate until Clara finally sat. He swallowed hard and rubbed his forehead, taking a mouthful of potatoes and grimacing, "Seriously, we're gonna eat this cold?"

"We could warm it up," Clara offered.

"That little wand thing with the green light do that?" Dave asked the Doctor as he smiled.

Hugging her father, Clara walked slowly across the lawn, tired and full from dinner and the Doctor watched her with a smile and a sigh of appreciation. Dave caught him by the shoulder and he shifted away quickly, seeing the man chuckle to himself as he nodded.

"Suppose I deserve the fear."

"Must say, there isn't an alien in the universe that compares to a girl's father," he told him honestly.

"I know you can't make any promises," Dave told him quietly, "But she's my Clara, and no matter what she says, she's still my little girl – my everything – and I would do anything…" his voice dropped off and he raised his eyes to the Doctor.

With a nod, the Doctor replied, "When she's travelling with me, she's my Clara and I would do anything."

"I'm gonna want to punch you again one day, aren't I?"

Laughing, the Doctor told him, "Probably, for one reason or another."

Dave gave his shoulder a clap of his hand and a squeeze before he slipped away, closing the door behind him and the Doctor moved over the damp grass to the box that waited. He stepped inside and watched the woman who stood lazily at the console, legs and arms crossed, mouth twisted in contemplation. Hands on either side of the entrance ramp, he nodded up at her.

"Back to the Maitland's?" He asked.

"Yup," she answered, voice barely audible.

"Growing up is never easy," the Doctor told her, "Parents never really let go of that notion that their children aren't children any longer. It's instinctual, I suppose."

Clara turned away from him and he moved up to stand beside her, turning a lever and punching in a few keys on a board. She rubbed at her elbow and touched the back of her head lightly, surely smarting from the lamp – which he wouldn't mention if she didn't.

"What?" She finally asked with a smirk.

"Back on that planet, in that room, you shouldn't have known I was coming, but you did," he began before turning and asking bluntly, "How?"

"I heard your thoughts."

"But that room," he said, face scrunching in confusion.

Clara shrugged. "Stronger than he expected, maybe."

He nodded as she smiled up at him deviously and he chose to leave it. He raised an eyebrow and sighed, "You know, time machine and all, we could take a trip through Galorium – whole skies of oceans floating in a ring of gravity that maintains its suspension over a city of sand."

Clara hugged his arm tightly and then slipped away with a quick giggle and a hesitant nod. "Well, as it is a time machine and all – the Maitland's don't have to know tomorrow became today again."

The Doctor laughed, watching as she stared up at the center tubes that began to pump as the Tardis sprung to life and burst with vworps and whoomps. He met her eyes and knew one day he'd drop her off for good, but today, today she was his and they would walk a sunset under the sea.

End