Clara's Tardis, 12PM
The Doctor and Clara sat down in Clara's console room, occupying the same seats that she and Amy had sat in the night before. It was just the two of them. Lady Me had taken everyone else out to lunch. The Doctor and Clara had been due to go with them, but the Doctor had taken Clara to one side. The morning had been spent "mingling" as it were, everyone wanting to chat to the Doctor again, to ask how she was, and to reminisce about old times. The Doctor had played along. Don't get me wrong, she was delighted to see them all again, in her own way. But small talk was never her thing (especially now), and she was quickly rather bored of it all. So, just before midday, she'd taken Clara aside.
"I don't want lunch," she said, "tell me why you've brought me here...just you and me."
Clara blinked. She had real difficulty understanding the Doctor, especially over the noise of all the past companions chatting. "Say again." She said slowly and clearly, pointing to her ear.
The Doctor sighed and repeated herself. "No lunch - just tell me why I'm here."
Clara, understanding, nodded.
So the two of them stayed back. Lady Me ushered everyone else out of the console room, promising to be back within the hour. It wasn't a glamorous lunch - they were going to the nearby Borough Market, to pick up some burgers and bacon rolls and whatnot. Not haute cuisine by a long chalk. Tasty though. Clara found herself ever so slightly crestfallen not to be going - she was hungry. But the Doctor was right. She came, when really she had no need to. She deserved an explanation.
Tricky hung back. "You want me to stay and sign?" she asked the Doctor, signing the words as she spoke.
The Doctor shook her head. "I'll manage."
Tricky raised her eyebrows. She glanced at Clara. "You can understand her, right?"
"Course I can." Clara replied defensively, though it wasn't entirely true. She wasn't too sure about Tricky. She seemed a bit...well, a bit brusque. Callous even. Clara reminded herself that some Time Lords were like that. There was a strange frostiness between her and the Doctor, which puzzled Clara. For a pair of travelling friends, they didn't seem that close at all. Not like she and the Doctor had once been. They'd been close as anything! Well...for the most part anyhow.
Clara had realised she was deaf almost at once - when she'd first spoken. The "hello again" hadn't sounded right. It was muffled, strained, and she seemed to skip the "g" in "again." At first, Clara had assumed that there was something wrong with her voice. But then Tricky began signing, and Clara realized the truth - this new Doctor, whomever she was, couldn't hear.
Tricky shrugged and slouched out after Lady Me, leaving the Doctor and Clara alone. It occurred to Clara, at that moment, that as well as being unsure about Tricky, she really wasn't all that taken with this iteration of the Doctor either. She seemed cold. Twelve had been cold too. But not to this extent. Clara had seen right through the Doctor this morning. That false smile, the pretend interest in everyone...it was all fake. Behind that painted smile, all too clearly, the Doctor was bored. Not only bored, but eager to get away, and not return. Seeing faces she hadn't seen in centuries was to her only casually interesting, for the first half-hour or so. The sheer joy that Clara and the others felt at seeing her again simply wasn't reciprocated. But why not? What was wrong with the Doctor? Was this regeneration, besides the deafness and behind the beauty, simply not particularly friendly? Or had something made her this way?
Clara was wrong, of course. No, the Thirtieth Doctor wasn't the warmest of incarnations. Yes, a certain event had made her especially distant in recent years. But actually, the Doctor was incredibly happy to see everyone again. She had come at the drop of a hat.
But whatever Clara mistakenly thought, she brushed her opinions aside. They didn't matter. Yes, she was a little upset by the Doctor's attitude, but it wasn't relevant. The Doctor was here. She was owed an explanation.
"Right," Clara began, keeping her voice slow, "so, I-"
But the Doctor held her hand up. Clara stopped abruptly. The Doctor wasn't even looking at Clara's lip movements, she was busy reaching around in the pocket of her long black coat. Clara, affronted, simply sat like a naughty schoolgirl for a moment, staring at the round pearls on the Doctor's necklace. Finally, the Doctor pulled out a pen and paper, thrusting it at Clara. Clara understood - she wanted her to write it down. Made sense.
So Clara did. She started with the death of Ellie Oswald, her mother, all those years ago. She then wrote about the transmission she'd intercepted from UNIT. She wrote about her own research, and the story she remembered the Doctor telling her once. She wrote about bringing all these people together, and she wrote about what they'd learned so far. The story of Tomasz Wrench and his jumbled encounters with the Doctor. She wrote of Thomasina. Finally, she passed it to the Doctor, who read it. She could speed read. It took her two seconds.
For a moment, the Doctor said nothing. Then, smirking, she scribbled something down at the bottom of the page, passing it back to Clara. It read - you were so hungover that day.
She frowned and looked up at the Doctor, who was smirking playfully. For a moment, Clara wondered what on Earth she was going on about. Then it hit her - that day the Twelfth Doctor had told her the story! She remembered! She remembered doing it! Wow! She was on her Thirtieth life! It happened all those years ago...but she remembered!
"I was," Clara said, nodding and laughing. The Doctor laughed as well. Even her laugh was quiet. "Oh yes, I was."
Clara scribbled something else down now - I just don't know what to do, Doctor. I've got them here. They all think I have a plan. But I don't. All I've really done is get all the information. I haven't got a clue what to do.
The Doctor took the page and nodded. She scribbled something back, and Clara took it. It said - But I do. We'll wait until everyone's back.
Clara grinned as she read that. "Thanks, Doctor," she said clearly, "thanks for coming back for us..."
The Doctor watched Clara's lips, and then nodded. "Anytime."
Later that afternoon, the whole team sat in Clara's console room. Clara and the Doctor had located a whole bunch of chairs, stored fifteen minutes away in a closet deep within Clara's Tardis. Clara had grimaced at the prospect of dragging them all the way back, but the Doctor had shown her a little trick - they'd all been teleported directly to the console room. They set them up in two rows, five in each, and directed the others into them as soon as they were back. Clara hopped into one of the seats in the front row, more than happy to relinquish her unofficial role as leader to the Doctor. She sat beside Lady Me, and leaned over to her, speaking quietly.
"You've got ketchup on your chin," she whispered.
Lady Me looked at her in alarm, and quickly wiped her face with a handkerchief.
The Doctor stood before them, like the teacher of a particularly small class. Tricky stood to the side, ready to translate whatever the Doctor had to say. Unlike most classes, this one's attention was focused on the teacher, and nothing but the teacher. They gazed up at the tiny little Doctor, waiting for her to speak. Finally, smiling, she began. But she didn't speak - she signed. Tricky spoke.
"All right," Tricky said, "so to start with, it's great to see you all again. If unexpected. I know we're not here under the best of circumstances, but it's been so special this morning, catching up with you all."
The Doctor paused. Everyone was smiling eagerly at her, and she had to fight the urge to laugh. Like Clara, this whole setup reminded her of a school. She felt as if she was the beautiful young teacher of a bunch of eight-year-old's, all of whom fancied her and adored her. That's what their expressions reminded her of - desperate little children, keen to be the teacher's favourite.
She took a deep breath, strangling the laugh which was itching to escape, and continued signing.
"What Clara's told me today is unbelievable," Tricky translated, "not least because I was brought up sensible - I never truly believed in the Other. But also because like you, I can't remember a thing. Clara's told me all of it. I literally can't remember a thing. Not one detail. Now...I have my suspicions about what the Other is doing in Mayfair, though I hope I'm wrong. I understand that we're missing two pieces of the puzzle still. Namely, Amy and Jamie. Brilliant coincidence right there. For now...I recommend hearing from Amy."
"Then me?" Jamie interrupted, "I've been wantin' ta do me bit for ages!"
The Doctor frowned at him and looked at Tricky. "He said he wants to do his part as well," Tricky explained, signing. "Rude little git, interrupting you."
Jamie looked at the floor sheepishly, but the Doctor just chuckled. "No problem," she told Jamie herself, and he glowed red with pride. "But," she went back to sign language, and Tricky carried on the sentence, "I think you'll have to wait a little longer, Jamie. We'll hear your part for sure...but only when the time is right. Trust me - we'll all know when the time is right to hear the end of the tale, from you. It's not yet."
"All righ'," Jamie said agreeably enough, looking slightly crestfallen nonetheless.
"But Amy - this is as good a time as any to hear your segment." Tricky continued, watching the Doctor's hand motions, "if your happy to do it?"
"I am," Amy said, getting to her feet at once. But Rory stood up next to her, equally quickly.
"No!" He said. "Let me. I was there too, right? Why can't I use the little disc thingy?"
"Why should you get all the fun?" Amy exclaimed.
"It wasn't fun though," Rory retorted, "it looked awful. It was, wasn't it guys?"
"It wasn't so nice," Jack Harkness conceded, "but look- we're all fine!"
"Indeed." Ian nodded.
"Yes, but..." Rory looked helplessly at the Doctor. She only watched impassively, with raised eyebrows. He rounded on Clara, "I'll do it instead."
Clara smiled. "That's good of you, Rory. But no. I've got every reason to want Amy to do it instead. I've got good reason to think that Amy saw and experienced a lot more that particular day. I'd like her to do it."
"Yeah, so would I!" Amy said, moving Rory aside. "Clara - disc!"
Clara pulled out the little golden disc, but the Doctor quickly snatched it from her hands. Her pretty eyes widened as the examined the specimen, turning it around to look at both sides. She and Tricky exchanged an astonished look.
"Where'd you get that?" Tricky demanded.
"I was given it." Clara said.
Tricky looked at the Doctor. "She was given it, apparently." She said, signing the words.
The Doctor looked at Clara in alarm. "By who?"
Clara shrugged. "An old man. I'll tell you later."
The Doctor stared incredulously at Clara. She was going to ask more questions, but something on Clara's face told her not to bother. It would be a waste of time. So, slowly, she passed the disc back to her. Clara took it.
"Go for it." She said, smiling at Amy.
"Right," Clara said. She flicked a switch on the little golden disc - quite a feat, considering there hadn't been any switches when the Doctor was holding it. A light buzzed on. Clara smiled and held it up to Amy's face.
Amy stooped to look into it. She felt like a giant, next to the Doctor and Clara. The Doctor was slightly taller than Clara, but she was still miles below Amy. So, stooping low, she gazed into the light.
"Ohh," she whimpered at once, stumbling. Rory raced forwards to catch her, and the Doctor grabbed one of her arms. "Sorry." Amy said. "But I remember! I remember everything. We were welcoming in the year 2000! We were so happy that night, Rory! He took us to the Ritz...well...you took us to the Ritz," Amy said, looking at the Thirtieth Doctor and laughing, "a very different you, but you nonetheless."
The Doctor nodded. "But what happened?"
Amy took a deep breath, "he used me...he used me to get to you. He wanted to kill you. He so nearly did..."
"Who stopped him?" Clara asked. The rest of the audience watched from their seats, scared but extremely interested.
"Well..." Amy said incredulously, "believe it or not, Rory...you did. This is what happened..."