Clara was shaking her head, but Ella was on the verge of tears because her father had already said yes – had already promised as a gift for her birthday – and the longer Clara watched her, trying to convey how much she disagreed with a simple look, the more she realized she couldn't say no. Not on this day; not to this girl. Clenching her jaw and turning her eyes towards the Doctor, whose smile faded slowly as he straightened away from her, Clara finally said softly, "One trip," she raised a finger, "One planet because you're thinking about a planet already…"

Ella jumped into her, arms swooping around her shoulders in a tight hug as she squealed with excitement, shouting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, mum! I promise I'll behave; I'll do whatever dad says. I won't get into trou…"

Inhaling sharply as she pulled the girl back, Clara interrupted, "Don't say you won't get into trouble because I know the two of you and you will, most definitely, get into trouble."

The Doctor was raising his right hand, forefinger and thumb held an inch apart as he mouthed with a wince, "Just a spot, really."

Tilting her head, Clara responded, "I hardly call caving in a mountain a spot."

"Technically that was your fault," the Doctor pointed out as Ella looked between them.

Clara's mouth fell open and then clamped shut and she swallowed roughly, allowing, "Be back in an hour. One hour!" She hissed.

"Where are they going?" Clara turned to look at the six year old who was suddenly clinging to her left leg, dark eyes like large saucers staring up at her with a pout. "Mummy, you said we can't go in the Tardis separate – you said we had to stick tog…"

Touching her daughter's head of thick chestnut locks, she began to smile before she stiffened, "Micah, you left Elliot in the tub," and she tugged her up into her arms to race into the hall, the smaller girl shouting, "He's almost three, I think he can bathe himself already. Honestly, mummy!"

The Doctor tapped Ella on the top of the head and when she turned, he was smirking, one hand held out and she smiled as she reached for it, grabbing hold tightly and rushing with him towards the Tardis in the yard. They rushed up the ramp towards the console space and landed with mirrored laughs and the Doctor took a moment to look his daughter over.

Her skin was pale, small nose splattered with light freckles, and her wide eyes shimmered a brighter green than his own with excitement at the notion that she'd be taking a trip to the stars with her father. Just the two of them, the way it never was. He smiled and nodded to her, seeing her automatically reach out for the controls, long slender arms she loved to wrap around them randomly because their elder daughter was a hugger. A dreamer, a dancer, and a hugger who loved to spin around the console with him and had taken to the Tardis like a fish in water.

Throwing a lever up, she giggled at him before tilting her head just as Clara would, to ask, "Do you think we should have checked to make sure everything was alright before we left?"

Smiling, the Doctor leaned against the console and dropped his head slightly to offer, "When have you ever known your mother to not have control over a situation."

Ella laughed and nodded and she guided them to her favorite place. A place in deep space with caves and glowing birds and an indigenous people who communicated through song and dance and always made Ella remember the universe was magical despite the horrors it held. But the Tardis yanked in a different direction and she glanced up to see the worry on her father's face as they settled somewhere entirely… elsewhere.

"Dad," she began, "Where are we?"

He shifted closer to her and whispered cautiously, "Not entirely sure, but I suppose it wouldn't be too dangerous to take a peek."

Her breathing quickened as she nodded, then shook her head, "We promised mum…"

The Doctor smiled and held out his hand again and told her quickly, "Ella, we're out in the universe. The vast and complicated network of galaxies that spread out through space like a never-ending catacomb, or cobweb, and we've just been caught in a moment, in a place. Wrapped in a cocoon, if you will, of a spider of a planet and it's for a purpose. Everything has a purpose and there's no discovering it if we rush back home to mummy…"

"You give mum pretty speeches," Ella groaned, "And then we end up in trouble."

Straightening, he mumbled, "Oh, you are her daughter, aren't you."

She smiled proudly and then she pointed, "Still," she said quickly, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a look."

He pointed, "Said yourself, we promised mum."

"I promised mum I would listen to you."

The Doctor released a small breath of amusement and he reached for Ella's cheeks, pulling her close to kiss her forehead before dropping his hands to her bony shoulders, knowing she'd be tall and thin – and no one in the universe would question she was his daughter in spite of the truth. He gave her shoulders a rub and then moved around her, towards the door where he nodded, "Take my hand, Ella, and whatever you do, don't let go."

Rushing forward, her purple skirt dancing around her the dark grey leggings that matched her cardigan and she giggled – the exact same giggle he'd expect from Clara – as her hand came out to hold his tightly, other hand rounding his arm as she stood beside him.

Grabbing hold of the door, the Doctor opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, turning to Ella to see the large eyes that waited with an excited smile and he released the door to gesture at her, "Ella, no speeches, no pretty words, just rules now – important rules – and first is… well… first is I lie."

"I know," she told him readily with a quick nod, watching his brow come together tightly before she shrugged and tilted her head quickly to add, "Sorry dad, love you, but I've sort of noticed it."

Smiling proudly, he nodded and then continued, "There are loads of rules, you've probably heard them all then – or noticed – but the most important, the actual most important rule of travelling with me is find a hand to hold and don't let go and the best hand to hold would be the one you've got now."

Ella grinned and gave his palm a squeeze, "Gotcha then."

"Gotcha," he repeated, lifting his hand to the door again and whispering with raised eyebrows and a devious grin, and with his daughter, he uttered a quiet, "Geronimo," before opening the door.