Clara spots the Sonic lying on a dresser inside of her bedroom on the Tardis just as she puts Ella down into her crib for a nap and she smiles, reaching for it curiously. She's never really had the opportunity to examine it beyond the moments it flashes from his pocket to help them on an adventure. "The Sonic is important Time Lord equipment, not a toy to play with," he'd told her one day when Ella had gotten a hold of it on the console just before flipping it in the air and almost dropping it.
"Let's see how this works," Clara whispers, gripping it in her palm and turning it over slightly to look at the construction with a frown of confusion, "How do you turn it on?"
At the mere thought, she feels a hum warmly buzz her hand and she thinks maybe she understands – the Tardis has a psychic interface, the Sonic must operate on the same system. She looks to the device in her hand and she tries to think of something she could do, but when she asks it to turn on the lights, it merely sits in her hand, idle. Pursing her lips and bringing it up beside her face, she glances around the room as she crosses her left arm across her stomach and leans her other elbow into the back of her wrist.
Lights on.
Lights on.
"Ah," she considers, looking over the casing and finding a button, "Moron," she mutters to herself, pressing and thinking again Lights On, but nothing happens. Clara bites at her lip and looks into the crib at Ella and she sighs, "Daddy doesn't want us playing with his toys." She smiles at the thought, leaning against the edge of the crib and giving the button another light press as she sighs, "He is a silly man, Ella."
The Sonic clicks, extending the end – the tip lighting up a brilliant white – and Clara turns because Ella makes a noise of protest. For a moment Clara simply stares at it, wondering what she'd done – what thought in her head had triggered it – but then she frowns because she'd never seen the Sonic glow white before. Raising her eyes to look at the opposite wall, her head gives a small shake as she looks at the photo projected there of herself holding Ella on the console, the first night they'd had her. With a smile, she remembered that moment: it was when the girl had first fallen asleep in her arms.
"Finally, what did you do – we'll need to take notes."
"Doctor, she just tired herself out crying."
"Note it down: Crying eventually ends in exhaustion."
Clara smiles, looking at the way she was leaning into the extra control panel at the edge of the console, Ella laid out along her arm just at her chest. She'd watched her sleep, at the time terrified she'd wake up; terrified something was wrong with her, but the image captured only the adoration she felt towards the infant she held. A second photo replaces the first and this time she's laughing, her skirt floating up behind her and she knows she's just done a twirl with the girl in her arms. Ella's mouth is open in a squeal, her light eyes reduced to slits of glee.
A third images is her asleep in her bed, only a few weeks later, Ella on her side just in front of her, one hand on Clara's mouth, the other stretched out towards whoever held the camera, an excited look on her face. A fourth is her holding the girl carefully in a tub giving her a bath as she splashes the water at her sides. A fifth is the sour look on Ella's face the first time they tried to feed her pureed bananas.
They keep coming, rolling onto the wall like a scrapbook of the year she'd spent with her daughter so far and it suddenly dawned on her that it had been one year. She laughs lightly, letting her tears fall over her cheeks as she continues to look at the snapshots, understanding the Doctor had to have taken them and she's looking at a photo of herself snuggling Ella in her own living room at home, late at night when the girl had been having nightmares and she'd woken up to pace with her until she fell back to sleep, when she realizes the Doctor is watching from the doorway, a shy smile on his face.
"You've been taking photos, all along?" She asks quietly, smiling up at the baby girl standing just beside her on the console, tugging at her skirt as she made faces down at her.
The Doctor nods, lifting his Sonic out of his pocket and glancing at the one she held, "I made a duplicate, this one strictly an image recorder. A bit less conspicuous for capturing moments like this," he gestures up at Clara laughing up towards him off camera in a still image, Ella smirking shyly as she laid her head against Clara's collar, "Do you remember?"
Clara smiled, "She called you poopie face because you'd fallen in the mud."
With a nod, the Doctor moves to stand beside her, looking in on Ella before he turns to watch the photos still flashing up against the wall from the projector Sonic in her hand. "I was debating when to give it to you – next Mother's day, or Christmas, as it's closer – but I suppose now that you know about it…"
She nods up at the photo of the Doctor holding Ella, obviously taking a photo of themselves, the Doctor smiling awkwardly as Ella reaches up for his chin. He smiles as the photo changes to a shot of Clara lying in her bed at home, Ella raised in the space above her, hands clasped against her neck as she smiled down at the woman smiling warmly up at her.
"You keep it," Clara tells him quietly.
"Clara…" he begins on a laugh.
Turning, she stands on tip toe and kisses him lightly before settling herself into his side, momentarily confused by the lack of light on the wall before she realizes she'd hugged him with the hand holding the secondary Sonic. He takes it from her and flashes it up on the wall again, this time a photograph of Clara in her kitchen peering to the side where Ella sits in her high chair, waiting eagerly for food.
"Clara, I took these photos for you; they're yours."
She tightens her grip and lays her head into his chest, telling him quietly, "You keep it, Doctor; when we're not around, we'll still be with you."
He smirks, teasing, "And what about me, eh? I'm not around, you can just forget me?"
Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she plucks her phone out and swipes it on and the Doctor smiles at the photo of him at the console, Ella held against his chest, both of their eyes closed. He'd been rocking her back to sleep to try and let Clara sleep when the infant woke in the middle of the night and Clara had come out and caught him. She went into her images and began slowly scrolling through them.
The Doctor swinging Ella through the air.
Looking upset at Ella's spit up on his waistcoat.
Holding the girl a safe distance from a flower he was explaining.
Settled on her couch; Ella cradled in his arms.
Asleep in Ella's crib, the girl grinning up at Clara.
Pointing at the stars beyond the Tardis doors, Ella grasped tightly against him.
"You're not the only one stealing little bits of frozen time, Doctor," Clara tells him, looking up to see the way his eyes were suddenly wet with tears. Grinning, Clara inches up as he leans down to kiss her gently and when he hears the click of her phone he smiles into her lips before they dissolve into quiet laughter.