Thank you for the review :) Now, awkward family dinner time!

Chapter 21

"It's gonna be fine," Clara chuckled teasingly, repeating the words he had used earlier this week while the Doctor became increasingly aware that she was watching his hopeless attempts to fasten his tie through the mirror.

Another failed attempt later he ripped the long piece of fabric away from his collar and threw it on the floor, muttering curses under his breath. His hands were trembling a little and he rued the moment he had agreed to her father's suggestion to come to dinner. Why had he even done that? He wasn't the type to make a good impression on a woman's parents, he was the type to stay far, far away from any parent, especially since Clara's father already hated him.

"I like the tie better when you use it to tie me up in bed," the Doctor mumbled grumpily while Clara bent down to pick it off the floor.

"Better not mention that to my father. Your bruise has only just healed and a black eye doesn't suit you," Clara said and laid the tie around his neck, fastening it in a nice knot in a matter of seconds, "There you go. I'll use it to tie you to the bed when we get back."

"Promise?" the Doctor asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Promise," Clara confirmed with a light smile, "And now let's go. Don't wanna be late."

OOO

"Wow," the Doctor breathed once they had stepped out of the car and his eyes fell on the mansion in front of them. Although mansion didn't seem quite the right word for the palace he was looking at.

"Yeah," Clara replied reluctantly, not tearing her gaze away from the house, "Wow."

"You said your parents had money but-"

"I know. This is a surprise even to me."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Is it just my imagination or do the gargoyles look a bit. . . threatening?"

"It's not just you," she said in a low voice before the house's spell seemed to be broken and she looked away and straight at him, "Okay, let's get this over with, shall we?"

Before he could react Clara stepped up to the entrance and rang the doorbell. A maid opened the door and took their coats, leading them into a fancy looking living room where her father and a woman the Doctor assumed was Clara's stepmother were already waiting for them.

"Oh, good," her father said instantly, "Now we can eat."

"We're not late, are we?" the Doctor asked, even though he knew they weren't. Despite that her father made them feel like they were.

"No, you're not," the woman said with a smile as she rose to her feet. She took a few steps in his direction and held out her hand, "I'm Linda, Clara's stepmother."

"John Smith," he replied, "But you can call me the Doctor if you want. Everyone does."

"Why?" David Oswald asked blatantly.

"Uhm," the Doctor hesitated, exchanging a look between Clara and her father, "I don't know. It's a nickname. Not sure how it started."

Clara suddenly cleared her throat. "What's for dinner?"

"Pot roast," Linda replied in a friendly manner, "I hope you're not a vegetarian, Mr Smith."

He gave a short laugh. "No, I'm a predator," a soft punch from Clara landed in his ribs. "Carnivore," the Doctor corrected himself quickly.

Once more he asked himself why on earth he had agreed to this dinner. He couldn't make a decent impression on her father if his life depended on it.

The awkwardness subsided a little when they moved into the dining room and were served dinner by the maid a few moments later. The Doctor concluded it would be best to eat in silence while Clara tried to make polite small talk with her parents.

"Eugene sends his regards, by the way," her father said after a moment before shoving another piece of roast into his mouth in an attempt to look casual. Although Clara usually referred to him as her former fiancé the Doctor immediately knew who her father was talking about.

Clara's head shot up. "You're still in contact with him?!"

"Of course," David Oswald replied as if it should have been obvious, "He's been a part of our family for years now. He still comes over for dinner once a week."

She dropped her fork on the table and her mouth fell open but it took her moment to find the right words. "I left him," she stated plainly, "Why would you still invite him for dinner?"

"Because Eugene is a perfectly nice man and just because you decided to cut him out of your life for no apparently reason doesn't mean that we have to do the same thing."

"Dave, Clara," Linda began carefully, "Do you think this is the right time and place for this discussion?"

"No," Clara said sternly, not taking her eyes off her father, "But I'm not the one who started it."

"Dave mentioned you had your own practice," Linda suddenly spoke again, her attention now directed at the Doctor. At least she wasn't openly hostile towards him.

The Doctor swallowed. "Yes, I have. I worked at a hospital while I was still living in Glasgow, but being your own boss definitely has its benefits."

"Not the benefit of a steady income," Clara's father muttered under his breath.

"Dad, please!"

"What?" David Oswald looked up, "I'm only stating the obvious."

"I make enough money, if you must know. Do you need the exact figures?" the Doctor spat in reply.

He heard Clara take a deep breath. "You don't need to answer, Doctor. My dad is just being rude."

"Yes, the exact figures would be nice, if you don't mind. I just want to make sure you're not after my daughter's money."

"Enough!" Clara yelled and surprised everyone by jumping up from her seat, "Shut up! All of you! Dad, I don't know why you invited us here except to insult us but I'm certainly not gonna sit here and watch. And I want you to apologize!"

"Clara, that's not necessary. Let's just leave," the Doctor suggested.

"No, it's absolutely necessary!"

Now Linda rose from her seat as well, looking more than just a little uncomfortable.

"Clara," she said calmly, "Why don't I show you the rest of the house while your father apologizes in private, mh?"

The Doctor watched Linda throw her husband a dirty glance. He didn't want an apology. He understood all too well why Clara's father hated him and all he really wanted to do was leave.

"Alright," Clara finally agreed to Linda's suggestion and the two women left the room.

OOO

"I hate him sometimes," Clara yelled angrily as soon as they were out of earshot.

Linda sighed as she walked up the stairs and Clara trailed after her, not really knowing where they were headed. "He loves you," she said after a moment, "And he wants you to be happy."

"I am happy," Clara insisted, "What he wants is for me to be happy with the things he approves of. I bet he's still waiting for me to move back in and give Eugene another chance."

Linda suddenly stopped in front of a room and from the look on her face Clara could tell that that was exactly what her father was hoping for.

"Never!" she spat, "Not in a million years!"

"You're his only daughter. He misses you," Linda explained calmly and opened the door to her left, "When we rented this house he made sure to include a room just for you in case you wanted to come home."

Clara shook her head but nevertheless looked inside. There was no doubt this room was meant for her. It looked a lot like the room she had had at their old house in England, bright and romantic with a large wardrobe and an even larger bookshelf. There was even a lovely dress in just exactly her size hanging on the closet door.

"It's his way of saying that you'll always be welcome to come back. Or if you just want to visit and stay over night. We're going to be here for a few more months."

She sighed. "I know that I'll always be welcome but he has to accept that I make my own decisions. And above all he has to accept that I broke up with Eugene and that I'm with someone else."

"Clara, you can't be serious about this man-"

"No," Clara interrupted her angrily, "Not you, too."

"He is old enough to be your father."

"I'm leaving," she announced and turned around on her heels, "I'm not going to spend another minute in this house if all you can do is judge and insult us!"

OOO

"What was the meaning of this invitation?" the Doctor asked brusquely, now standing up and crossing his arms in front of his chest, "At first I thought you were trying to be nice but that's obviously not the case. I don't care what you think about me. I don't care if you don't like me. But imagine what this evening must have been like for Clara. You could have at least pretended to be nice for an hour to make her happy."

Her father raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you care about Clara?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he spat.

"Then send her home. Clara is a good girl, she was about to get married and have a family with a nice, young man. If six months ago you had told me that I would have to pick her up from prison I'd have called you insane. You can care about her all you like but that won't change the fact that you're a bad influence and that she'd be better off back home."

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak but couldn't deny that her father was at least a little bit right. Maybe he was indeed a bad influence.

"That's Clara's decision to make," the Doctor swallowed hard, "Not mine. Not yours."

Suddenly the door burst open and Clara stormed inside. The Doctor was bracing himself for another fight but instead she walked up to him, reached for the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down to crush their lips together in front of her father and Linda. He tried to fight it but for a small woman Clara was pretty strong.

"We're leaving now," she announced a little breathlessly after she had broken the kiss, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the room and eventually the house, too. The Doctor didn't even have the slightest chance to resist.

"That went anything but well," he said quietly as they made their way to the car.

Clara shot around to look at him. "I don't care," she said angrily, "And it's not your fault. If my father can't act like a decent human being then I want nothing to do with him."

"Clara-"

"No," she half yelled and placed her index finger over his lips, "Shut up. Just shut up, okay? And now take me home and let me tie you up in bed."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows but he didn't dare to say a single word.

"Do as you're told."