So, my original intent was to reach a certain event in this chapter. But then I discovered other bits needed developing, and when it was all said and done it was over 9,000 words, so I had to end this one early. Sorry! The good news is that the next part is now more than half written.

Hope you enjoy, and a million thanks to my wonderful beta, YouCleverBoys!

Another grumble escaped the Doctor as he curled onto his side, thwarting the grated metal floor's latest attempt to reconfigure his vertebrae. This old layout was really rubbish, but since the young TARDIS had embraced his presence he was trying to keep his uncharitable thoughts to a minimum. Thank heavens his own Clever Girl understood he was far too old to be wedged into such tight places.

"I heard that," declared his other girl, the unsympathetic one. "Keep tellin' ya, I'm perfectly capable of doing that system's check myself. No need for you to be under there all afternoon, 'specially if all you're gonna do is moan about it."

Instead of answering, the Doctor stuck a thumb and forefinger into a crevice just above his face and twisted tight a slightly loose wire. He wasn't moaning, not really. If anything he felt guilty. Rose's patience was running short, and understandably so. Hanging around her TARDIS with only lower half for company was probably not how she'd envisioned spending the day.

The first day of their engagement.

First day having promises between them, his ring on her finger, and what was he up to? Glorified tinkering. Not exactly his sun-lit dream either, no matter what people might say. He'd far rather Rose be in his arms all day- or at the very least in his sight.

And okay, he'd far, far rather (had counted on it too much, probably) update one little word and make this a first day of a different sort- the first day of their marriage. First day of their honeymoon. And as such, a lot of other firsts would have already taken place by now, making way for fourths and fifths and hundredths, and...

...blimey. The floor clanged dully as he let his head knock back against it, trying to physically derail his train of thought. Stop it.

He couldn't stop it.

That was his problem.

Well, partially.

All his frustration, the longing and impatience, they were only symptoms of something much bigger. Case in point: Rose was going to marry him. MARRY him. An incredible, miraculous concept; bigger than even a mind like his could wrap itself around, no matter how much he mentally caps-locked it. And what he craved most was the simple assurance that this was actually real. How could it be real, when his declaration of love remained painfully lodged in his throat? When he couldn't properly touch her? When he hadn't yet spent a single one of the thousands of kisses he'd saved up for her, which were burning a hole in his pocket?

And to top it all off, the Doctor felt...unsettled, to put it mildly. More like a crawling itch in his mind, a wrench of his gut, urging him forward, to lock their relationship down before it was too late. Hurry, hurry. But what else could he do? All Rose had asked for was a few days to get her affairs in order (no way that two-weeks-notice thing she'd mentioned to Martha was literal)- surely that was plenty hurried enough? All he needed to do in the meantime was summon up some of that steely self-control so innate to all Time Lords-

The Doctor snorted. Self-control, ha. At this point, one wrong (right) look from Rose and his mouth would be on hers, so long-overdue and perfect that it would inevitably lead to other things...things like his fingers on her temples and his name in her ear.

And that- that just wouldn't do. Because when one has been madly in love with a girl for centuries, one simply does not marry her on the TARDIS jump-seat. Or in the woods, nice a day as it was. And definitely not in Mickey Smith's foyer (aka the scene of their latest close call), where, as the other couple left to run errands, the latch's click was like a dash of fuel on a fire that had burned low and quiet between them all morning. The Doctor had scurried just in time.

"Have you been listening to me at all, Doctor?" Rose called out, this time at a volume he couldn't ignore. "I said I can do-"

"Right, sorry," he replied, wincing. "I...I know you're capable. And I do want you to take a good look at all of this too, but..." He made another face she couldn't see. "I just need to be sure, okay? I need to see for myself that all systems are running perfectly before you fly this TARDIS back through the rift."

"Well, 's not like I'm going anywhere today." Rose sounded slightly placated. "You're allowed to take a break if you're so miserable under there. Or better yet, why don't we go for a walk or something before it gets dark? You've been at that since lunch. It would be nice to see your face for awhile before you have to leave again tonight."

Humming, the Doctor stared up at the metal coils above him. For the irrational, lovesick part of him (the ridiculous part of him that missed her, even though she was in the same room) Rose's offer was incredibly tempting. And how much longer could he hide under here, really?

"Just...give me a bit longer," he said vaguely, hand patting up and down his chest in search of the sonic screwdriver. "I want to check the power feeds yet...maybe you could ring Clara to meet us up at the house? She's probably bored by now."

Actually, he hadn't seen Clara since the night before, and now absently wondered if there was a reason why. She'd noticed Rose's ring even quicker than Martha had (did women have special ring radar or something?) and reacted with similar surprise, although far less joyful exuberance. But she'd seemed fine.

Also where had his sonic got off to; had the bloody thing grown legs? Trouser pocket? ...nope, and he wasn't wearing his coat. With a huff, he edged onto his left side, checking the floor for it.

"Told you to take a break," said Rose, amused, and the Doctor's head jerked up so fast it nearly collided with the column. Her face was scant inches from his.

"Rose!" he exclaimed, more sharply than intended. "What are you doing?"

"You said power feeds," she replied, unsurely. "But there's this funny energy converter we added that I thought I should point out..." Rose trailed off at his frozen stare, and hurt wilted her smile. "I know what I'm talking about," she went on, growing defensive. "So if this is some chauvinistic bloke thing you've acquired from being on your own too long you really need to get over it."

Body rigid, he rolled flat on his back, blankly staring upward and practically twitching with the urge to reach for her. "Oh, it's definitely from being on my own too long, and there's a fairly good chance it's a bloke thing," he said wryly, the fine thread of his composure pulled taut. "But it has nothing to do with me doubting your mechanical capabilities."

"Okay, then why-"

At her warm touch on his arm the thread snapped. "I'm going to kiss you," he informed her bluntly, turning smouldering eyes on her.

It didn't scare her off- Rose's eyes were as dangerously dark as his own. "So?" she said, a hint of defiance in her smirk. "Bout bloody time, yeah?"

His eyes squeezed shut, a low growl in his throat. "Rose..."

"It's not enough to...you know. So long as we're careful and stop-"

"I won't be careful and I won't stop." His voice was rough as he grappled for a glimmer of reason. "And you deserve better."

She gnawed her bottom lip. "But-"

"Rose. Please." Turning his face away, he closed his eyes again and kept them that way, until finally she slid out.

"I'm sorry," she said a few long beats later, after he'd heard her pad over to a jump-seat. "You're right, I get it. But I think subconsciously, I sort of want it to happen. It's just so hard to let you leave again, and have to go to work tomorrow and give notice and deal with all the crap that's gonna come with it." She sighed mightily. "I just want to run away and start our life."

His answering sigh rivaled hers. "Probably most engaged couples feel that way."

"Yeah," she agreed without enthusiasm. "But they at least get to kiss."

Chuckling, the Doctor began to extricate himself from the tight quarters, inching out on his back. His elbow found the sonic and sent it skittering over the floor. "I could take you back to the Victorian times, if it's empathy you're after. Unmarried couples didn't touch much then either." The ceiling came into view and he sat up, stretching his limbs in relief.

"They also didn't bathe," Rose retorted, with a sardonic laugh. "Bet that was a pretty good deterrent."

He got to his feet and looked over at her, a considering eyebrow upraised.

"Don't even think about it," she told him, nose curling. "You don't have time for that tactic anyway, unless your next trip with Clara is gonna be a few weeks long. And I doubt she'd tolerate that."

"It will be a few days long, I'm afraid," he said, propping himself against the railing. "Promised her some Anti-grav Olympics ages ago, and it's time to pay up. One last hurrah."

"Last hurrah?" Rose frowned. "Like, she's going home afterward? I thought that wasn't safe."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Head tilting, she tossed him an exasperated look. "You seriously can't remember the reason why you've kept that poor girl onboard for weeks?"

The Doctor felt a bit lost. "Right...I suppose that little gang could have members we don't know about, but ever since Clara stopped in at Tower of London and ID'd her abductors -including the ringleader- she insists she's perfectly safe."

Now it was Rose's turn to look confused. "Wait- they've been caught? When did that happen?"

"Ehm, day before yesterday. Could've sworn I told you...I did mention Clara was going back to school, yes?"

"Yes, but that's all you mentioned," she replied, a bit snappishly. Then, pressing a finger between her brows, she took a breath. "Sorry. It's not like you were trying to hide it, don't know why I'm acting so annoyed. It's great news." Rose gave him a crooked smile. "Sort of weird, though, how that would happen right when we- anyway. Um, is that part of why you proposed again so soon?"

It absolutely was why. Not that the idea hadn't been on his mind constantly, but that welcome call from Kate Stewart was what had cinched the timing. Near unbelievable, how perfectly the stars had aligned...oh. Rose was not a fan of fate. That would explain the stiffness in her smile.

"I won't mind us having the TARDIS to ourselves," he answered carefully, "if that's what you mean. And I asked you again last night because I'm a very impatient man. I just can't wait to marry you."

Rose beamed, hand over her mouth, and he knew it was the right thing to say. "Me too," she said shyly. "Um, and Mar's really excited for us."

"Oh, so is that why she was screeching when she noticed your ring last night?" commented the Doctor, striding back to the console. Might as well inspect the information systems panel while they chatted, it was simple enough.

"Funny. Yeah, she had a bunch of wedding dress pictures pulled up on her laptop this morning. I didn't have the heart to tell her I probably won't need one."

Did he hear disappointment in her voice? He looked up, sonic in hand. "Do...do you want that? The whole earth wedding thing?"

Rose laughed softly. "Doctor. Aside from Mickey and Martha, who would I even invite? Cause I'm not gonna pretend to marry John Smith. I didn't even call him that at my other wedding, and it was his legal name. I'll explain to Martha. She'll understand." Rose paused, nibbling her thumbnail with sudden uncertainty. "Or...well, what about you? You've got Clara, plus you know lots more people than I do. Anyone you want to be there?"

Rolling the sonic screwdriver between his palms, he pretended to think. "For the first day of our life together, if it were up to me, I'd like to 'begin as I mean to go on, and go on as I began'."

Rose's dark eyes were soft, intent on his face. Like she meant to decipher him, to zero in on his meaning before he finished dancing around it, yet with no hint of impatience. His girl, the one person who embraced his eccentricities instead of just tolerating them, and all at once his love for her overwhelmed him. "Just you and me, Rose," he said fervently, leaning forward on the console. "You're the only person I want, need, on my side on that day. Because you're the only one I'll truly need, ever again."

"Forever," concluded Rose, her eyes bright with hope.

"Hey, Prentice!" came a voice from behind. "Is it true?"

Hackles rising, Rose slowly turned, resting her weight against one of the glass cafeteria doors to hold it open. "Not sure what you mean, Kyle," she said, her expression neutral as the burly little man came up to her.

"Well, the word around today is that you're moving back to London," he said, eyes boring into hers with their usual over-bearing intensity. "To marry that scrawny geek I met out at Smith's."

"Yep," she said succinctly, deeming anything more a waste of breath. Hiking the strap of her pack over her shoulder, Rose straightened and released the door, hiding a grin when it nearly hit him in the face. How some people had such strong opinions on other's personal choices was beyond her. Although, rude was Kyle's default setting.

Matt's comments, however...those had been far harder to swallow. With a little lift of her chin, Rose headed into the bustling lunchroom, forcing thoughts of the prior encounter from her mind. For the most part, she was glad she'd followed Martha's advice and simply told her colleagues the truth (mostly) about why she was leaving. The attention was a bit overwhelming, but so far most had been nothing but happy for her.

"Prentice!" she heard again, Kyle appearing at her elbow. Rose counted five, and then paused, turning to him.

"Yes?" She made no effort to hide her impatience.

"So you're really quitting?"

"Already said I was."

"Well," he replied, crossing his arms. "Congratulations."

It took her a few blinking seconds to process this. Had he just said something...nice? Rose smiled with effort. "Um, thanks." She gestured with her thumb. "Anyway, I, ah, I was just gonna grab a sandwich. Got a mission this afternoon."

"I just wasn't sure if it was true," he went on, as if she hadn't spoken. His small, sharp eyes fell to her left hand. "You aren't wearing a ring or anything."

"We haven't had a chance to get one yet, is all." True enough. Her sweet band of woven grass had been left reluctantly behind on her dresser this morning, its fragile threads already beginning to fray a tiny bit from being worn all day yesterday. At some point she'd definitely need something sturdier. "But..." She pointed to the food counter again.

Kyle looked over there and made a face. "Ugh, no. You actually eat here? I can't even stand the smell of this place. C'mon," he said, grabbing her wrist. "Let me at least buy you a decent lunch."

"What?" Rose pulled away. "Why?"

"To celebrate," he replied, as if it were obvious and not completely, utterly, Twilight-zone weird.

"I...can't today. Our team just got a mission, Ligot infestation in an old warehouse in Brooklyn. All I have is ten minutes." His shoulders slumped in sincere disappointment, which only threw her more, but somehow Rose pasted on a bright smile. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, though."

Something flashed in his eyes and then all disappointment vanished. "I'm free tonight too. Meet me by the main doors at quarter to six. You should be back by then."

He was gone before she could even begin to respond to that.

Weird as the Kyle-encounter was, it couldn't distract her from the Matt-problem. En route to Brooklyn, with him driving and her in the back, Rose ate her lunch and ignored him, and then the warehouse was so large that all five of them needed to split up. This suited Rose just fine. Quietly she wandered the grotty old corridors, setting out dishes of tranquilizer-laden minced fish and stewing over things, while waiting for the small, cat-like but reptilian Ligots to consume the bait. On the way back, Jeep loaded with a cage-full of the sleeping creatures, Rose chatted brightly with Monica, who was dying for more details on "John" and how he'd proposed. Only once did she catch Matt's eyes on her in the rearview mirror. She steadfastly refused to look up again after that.

When she finally exited the glassy building into the breezy, darkening October evening, Rose breathed a sigh of relief, buttoning her coat to her chin. Only a few more days to get through, she thought, heading for the train station, and was sad to find herself so eager to escape a job she'd loved.

It couldn't be helped. She didn't belong here, not anymore, if she ever did. Her place was amongst the stars with the man she loved, and no use feeling guilty about it.

Except...Rose had had plenty of time to think today, time to calm down, and now her empathy came back online. Of course Matt was upset. They were not only teammates, but close friends. Over the many hours they'd spent working together, they had grown to trust each other. Rose had even confided in him about her grief. Matt had been there for her, nearly every day, and what was she doing? Running off to marry some shadowy ex-boyfriend, one who'd turned up only weeks ago after years of absence from her life. With very little explanation.

Rose paused briefly at the side of the pavement, near a building in the shadows of its overhead scaffolding. Matt deserved the truth. Yes. And as soon as she got home, she was going to ring up the Doctor to discuss it. All at once she felt much better, and her gaze scanned quickly right and left before she made to re-join the flow of pedestrians heading into the station. And there, amongst them, a short, hunched figure paced on by, weaving through like he was on a mission. Kyle.

Kyle. Who'd insisted on them having dinner tonight, she remembered with a grimace. As if she'd even agreed. What, was he following her, trying to track her down because she hadn't been waiting for him at the place he'd decreed?

It was too much weirdness and it spooked her a bit, silly as it was. And Rose turned on her heel, heading for the Starbucks back around the corner. Wouldn't hurt to hang out for awhile and take a later train. A coffee sounded heavenly, anyway.

Ten minutes later she was beaming in delight at her cup (which bore an impressive floral representation of her name in magic marker) and at the artistic young bloke behind the counter, when a tall, thin figure came up beside her.

"Hi." Matt offered her a small, sheepish smile.

"Oh," said Rose, on an inhale of utter surprise. "I mean, hi." Blushing, she held up her cup to show him the rose drawn on it without thinking it through. "Isn't this nice?"

And instantly winced. So smooth, Tyler.

Matt admired it, laughing a little. "Wow."

Clutching the coffee to her chest, Rose cleared her throat. "So...are you also in need of a caffeine fix?"

"Nah," he said, shifting on his feet. "I collect paper cups with small rugs drawn on them."

She snorted out a laugh, shaking her head.

"Actually...I saw you come in here," he explained, sheepishness returning. "Sorry."

"Everybody's followin' me tonight," she mumbled. But she was pleased. Matt must want to smooth things over as badly as she did.

"What?"

"Never mind. You want to sit?"

At his nod, they went and found a small table in the back. Once opposite each other, Rose took great interest in her cup of coffee, sips slow and careful. She hadn't expected they might talk so soon. What should she do? Did she dare out the Doctor's identity without asking him first?

Matt too seemed uneasy, picking bits from a napkin he'd yanked from the dispenser.

At last Rose broke the silence, determined to start somewhere, "What happened earlier, your saying I'm crazy...it really hurt me. But, I've been thinking about it a lot, and I get it. Why wouldn't you think this is a total rebound? But thing is, it's not. You just don't understand the situation, and that's my fault. I owe you an explanation."

"Rose." Matt met her eyes frankly. "You don't owe me anything. I've acted like a jerk ever since you started dating the guy, and I have no right. You're smart, which is one of the things that...well, it's one of many, many things that attracted me to you. I'm jealous," he admitted, boldly. "I've been lying to myself, saying that I'm not, but I am, I can't help it. I'm in l-"

"Please," she cut him off, eyes widening. "Matt, please don't say it."

He stared at her, looking nearly as shocked as she was. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I don't know what my problem is, it's like I have no filter at all anymore."

Swallowing, she pried at the coffee lid with her thumbnail. "It's all right."

There was a long silence, and then Matt emptied his lungs. "Okay. What I meant to say, before I went into idiot-mode, is that you're my friend. And while I won't apologize for wanting to protect you, I was wrong to say those things." He gripped the corners of the small, square table. "And so, I was wondering if you'd allow me a do-over."

"A do-over?"

Matt popped to his feet. "Wait a minute," he said, eyes beginning to twinkle as he backed up. "Gotta do this right." He turned and Rose watched him loop the room, and then, as he approached her again, his expression was that of his usual cheerful confidence. "Prentice!" he greeted her, dropping back into his chair. "How was your weekend?"

Rose caught on. "It was good," she replied, careful to repeat her words from this morning. "Really good. Eventful. I, um. Actually I got engaged."

His eyes got big, jaw dropping in comic shock and awe, and Rose couldn't help but laugh. "No way...congratulations!" he exclaimed, drawing glances from all around, and sprang up again, arms opening wide. Rose willingly stood to hug him. "I'm happy for you," he said in her ear, quiet and very sincere. "Though I hate to see you go."

"I'll miss you too," she said, stepping back.

"So," he went on, "can I ask for one small thing? Please let me give you a going-away party or something. Just an evening at a restaurant, or maybe a nice pub, for those of us you're closest to."

"That's sweet, Matt, but you really don't need to do that."

He pulled a face. "Um, I kind of already did. I asked Monica and Jim and Anita and a few others, and we've tentatively planned it for this Friday after work. What do you think?"

Rose smiled at him, denting her chin with a fingertip. "Mickey and Martha too?"

"Of course. So that's a yes?"

Pretending to waver, she sucked in a long breath. "Yes...but can I make another request?"

"Sure."

"Please don't invite Kyle."

Another motorbike screamed past just overhead, upside down on the track and yes, definitely too close for comfort, and an embarrassing little shriek fell out before Clara could stop it. Heart pounding, she watched the bike race off, a wild, rushing breeze whipping up her hopelessly snarled hair.

"Blimey, Clara. Are you really going to scream every time?"

Clara turned a glare on the amused alien prat in the seat beside her. Of course he only grinned back, but the warm fondness in his eyes quickly dissipated her irritation.

"Might do," she replied with resignation, settling back in the reclining seat. "Unless we, I don't know, went to sit further down there?" Clara motioned toward to the many tiered rows of seats below them, all at a lovely, much safer distance from the upside-down racetrack.

Looking down, the Doctor made a displeased sound. "Take a girl to the Anti-grav Olympics, best seats in the house, and what does she do? Complains. Clara Oswald, do you have any idea how much money people pay to sit here?"

Teeth clenched, Clara braced herself as the next bike approached from behind them, and was proud when she stayed quiet as it passed. "You didn't pay anything," she stated, once the wind died down again. "But hey, I never said I didn't like this. It's amazing, really. Just..." Another competitor zoomed by and Clara squeaked. "Just a bit startling, is all."

"Oh yes." The Doctor rubbed his palms together, like this was the best compliment he could've hoped for. "And if you like startling, just wait until tomorrow. Anti-grav diving competition. Pool's overhead, see, and the trick is that the athletes have to..."

"We'll still be here tomorrow?" she cut in. "Really?"

A little crease appeared between the Doctor's brows, as if the question offended him. "There are weeks worth of games, you know. I thought we'd do a few days, even at that you're hardly getting a sample of it all. That a problem or something?"

"No," she replied slowly, "I'm just surprised, is all. So Rose is still holding you to the whole 'no visits during the week' thing?"

The Doctor sat back, fingering his bow-tie. "Actually no, she isn't. But you and I, we've been talking about going on this trip for ages, haven't we?" He snuck a peek at her from the corner of his eye.

Clara gave him a small smile. "Yeah, but that was before, Doctor, so I wasn't planning to hold you to it. That's life. Doesn't always go how you expect it might."

After studying her he grew thoughtful, rubbing at his chin. "Right," he said, nodding. Then he shook his head. "Clara, I'm so sorry-"

"Nope," she said immediately. "Don't. Don't do that. What could you possibly apologise for, Doctor? You're so sorry that the love of your life came back and it disrupted all our plans?"

"No, but I am sorry it's been hard on you. I...I could've handled it better, probably."

As Clara slowly bobbed her head, the announcer's voice reverberated through the stadium, proclaiming the winner, and vid snippets along with flattering close-ups of the woman's face began to flash across the enormous screens. The Doctor and Clara joined in with the crowd's roaring as long as it lasted, and then as it all died down they got to their feet.

Neither spoke as they exited the row, taking the escalator down to the moving sidewalk. It was jam-packed, Clara pressed tight to the Doctor's side, his coat rough against her arm as they rode through endless stadium corridors. Finally, she laid her hand over his on the handrail. "It wouldn't have helped," she said, and gave his fingers a quick, hard squeeze. "If you'd handled it better. You could have handled this whole situation perfectly and...I think I'd still feel exactly as I do right now."

"Which is?"

"You're my best friend. As well as the best thing that's ever happened to me. But now someone else, some other girl, has come into your life and she's far more important to you than I could ever be." Her gaze fell to their joined hands. "So how do you think I feel?"

"Ah-"

"Rhetorical question," she said quietly, with another press to his hand. "Not finished. So I'm sad, of course I am, because I loved how things were between us when it was just you and I, and that's over for good. And I'm sad because when I look at you, I see..." Clara felt him watching her, waiting. Her gaze panned upward, over his waistcoat and bow-tie, and then she dared to peer deeply into his eyes. Yes, in their greenish, ageless depths, even amidst some confusion and worry, it was still there. That...softness. It was the only word Clara could find to name it, the new but profound change in him which was more abstract than tangible.

"I see you," she concluded, with a little nose wrinkle. "And no, that's not the part I'm sad about. But it's like..." She fiddled with her rings. "There was this look you'd get on your face at times, usually during the bit of an adventure when everything's hopeless; it was this light, like you'd finally come alive. Like you'd shed all of your burdens, and your past, and everything else that makes you sad and...and I'd think to myself, 'oh, there he is. That's him, that's the Doctor, the real Doctor'. And then I'd hope that maybe, given enough time..."

Clara swallowed, lacking both words and courage to continue. The Doctor swung toward her, eyebrows raised, so focused on her that if the moving sidewalk came to an abrupt, untimely end he'd never see it coming. Proof that he still needed her to look out for him, and it was comforting. "I feel so stupid."

"I would never think that."

Her lids dropped. "I hoped maybe, once you trusted me, that I...I could help you be like that all the time. I wanted to help make you better. And..." Clara shrugged. "Well, now you are. You're happy, and...and please don't misunderstand, it's not that I don't love seeing you like this, because I do." Smoothing her hair nervously, Clara pony-tailed it with her hand, then let it drop. "But at the same time, it's hard. Because in the end, it's nothing to do with me. It's all because of her."

At that very moment the hot, late afternoon sunshine hit them as the ride slowed and ended, depositing them just outside the main stadium doors. The fresh air was welcome, and Clara took in lungfuls as the Doctor grasped her hand, guiding her to a bench in the shadow of the building.

"Clara," he said gently, taking her hand in both of his as she sat alongside him. "I know I'm not good at this, but surely you must realise that you're very important to me? Rose being back doesn't change that at all. It doesn't mean you aren't special."

"I know," she said, her voice small, eyes on the laughing, carefree myriads, as they traipsed over concrete and lush grass.

"I'm not sure you do. Listen. Once, I quit helping people because it was too painful. I was...alone, and meant to stay that way forever, but then something happened." His hands slid up her forearms, clutching hard to get her full attention. "I met you. You, so clever and adventurous and full of life, that you made me feel that way again too." Smiling at her, he bopped her nose with his fingertip. "Yes, things in my life have changed, but that doesn't mean I can give you up."

Sincerity gleamed bright in his eyes and Clara sniffed, a lump in her throat. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

The Doctor chuckled a little as he hugged back warmly, and then he held her out with his hands on her shoulders. "So what do you say, tour of the city? Take my anti-grav scooter for a little spin?"

"Sure. But Doctor...I only want to stay another day or two. I haven't seen my dad in ages, plus I have my job to get back to, and a new one to pursue. It's time."

His smile fell slightly, though the relief in his eyes told her he agreed. After all, even if he hadn't said it, this was a goodbye trip. Not forever of course, but it wouldn't be the same. It would never be just the two of them again.

"Well," he said, bounding up with sudden energy, "it's not time yet! Today, we have places to go!"

Clara grinned, accepting his outstretched hand.

"Oh, by the way," he said as they walked, "of course you can always call, anytime you get tired of the tedium of grading maths papers."

"Gonna teach English."

A grin lit his face, far too pleased for Clara's liking. "Ooh, classic literature, brilliant! Whenever you're ready to start the class on a new novel, we can all pop back in time and meet the author! Firsthand experience is the way to go, no need for stuffy old textbooks- stuffy, and I might add, often inaccurate textbooks. Why, when I met Agatha Christie-"

"Nope, not teaching classic lit," she declared, just to wind him up. "It's hard enough getting kids to read, so why not pick books that are fun and current?" Clara nudged him with her elbow. "But," she added generously, "you can still take me to meet those authors. One of them, at least."

"Like who?" His question was dark and highly suspicious, and Clara barely bit back a laugh. He knew all about her guilty pleasure.

Her lips barely formed the first consonant when he cut her off. "No, no no no. If you say the name of that, that woman, I will personally travel back in time and make sure she never writes a single word about sparkly vampires." The Doctor spit out the last two words, disgusted. "Clara Oswald. You can't just go around corrupting innocent young minds."

Clara batted her lashes. "Guess I learned from the best," she said with a shrug, and laughed evilly at his offended scowl.