John tugged the collar of his shirt for the fourth time that evening as he patiently waited for his date to arrive. It was a quarter past six and Sandra still hadn't arrived yet. If she had jilted him, he would have been fine with it.

"Right, do you have everything?" Clara asked as she strode into the room with several ties. "Wallet, phone?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, everything but the kitchen sink and what are you up to?" he asked, nodding at the ties hanging on her arm.

"What does it look like?"

The Doctor blew air between his lips and gave her a look. "Do I have to wear a tie?"

"Yes," the fairy godmother answered. "You're about to go on a date and since your date is late, you might as well make yourself look a bit more handsome," she said before realising her slip.

His eyes widened. "That's new coming from the one and only Clara Oswin Oswald."

No point denying now. "Well, you do look, you know, handsome for someone in his fifties."

"Ah, that's just a nice way of you saying I'm old then?" he commented, taking a tie and attempted to do the knot himself.

She could he was struggling a bit and decided to help. "For the last time, it's in this way, then to the left and then in again," she said, tying the tie around his collar. "There," she whispered before taking a step back to asses his appearance. The colour combination suited him. "I think it's a good match."

"This is another surprising twist," he commented, grinning. "My first attempt at picking an attire and the fairy godmother approves."

She took a step forward and smoothed the small wrinkles on his shoulders. "I can always find something wrong, but I'm cutting you a break this time."

"Sounds more like a lie to me," he muttered.

It was then at that moment the bell chimed. Both thought it would be Sandra walking through the doors, but it was none other than Bill Potts.

The eleven-year-old was surprised to see her friend all dressed up. What's more, is that were physically close to one another. "I left my pencil case," she explained, looking back and forth between Clara and the Doctor. She would have asked if they were planning to go out on a date, but John was the only one dressed up.

"John has a date," Clara explained as though she read Bill's mind.

The child still wasn't satisfied with that answer. "Ok, so why aren't you dressed up, too?"

The two remained silent for what seemed like an eternity.

"Well, it's because-"

"I have a date with Eddie's mother," the Doctor revealed.

Bill blinked once, twice and then she opened her mouth. "Clara was actually jealous when Eddie's mum came here the first time."

"Bill!"

"What?" John said confusion.

"She was jealous, and I know this because she told me."

"Bill!"

"What?" the Doctor repeated, more surprised than confused. "Is this true?"

She pursed her lips. Not now. Not when he has a date. Not when the so-called is the one who he should be focusing on. Not her. "It doesn't matter," she said quietly.

Just as he was about to argue, the bell chimed and all three looked at the source of the sound. Sandra. She stared at them. "Was I interrupting something?"

Clara forced a smile. "Nope," she said, earning a look from John. "Not at all."

Bill, on the other hand, remained quiet as she went to the back and grabbed her pencil case.

"I'm terribly sorry for my tardiness," she apologised. "I had a meeting with one of my clients that lasted a bit longer than expected – it always does when it comes to inheritance."

"Well, in that case, I don't think we should keep dinner waiting," she murmured, eyeing the Doctor up and down. The man looks good in anything, especially a suit.

He felt Clara gently push him forward and coughed. As much as he wanted to cancel the date, he knew he couldn't, to both women. "Yes, dinner," he mumbled, straightening his jacket before approaching his date.

As they walked out of the shop, John took one last glance over his shoulder, his eyes boring into Clara's.

The Impossible Girl knew of one thing. Her plan is now out of plan yet again. This time thanks to an eleven-year-old. Not that she's cross, but Bill's timing is just extraordinary.

"Oh, look at the time, mum's expecting me back any time now," the child commented as she thought she could evade the fairy godmother.

"Not so fast, Bill Potts."

She gave her a nervous look. "I think you should thank me rather than reprimand me."

Clara wasn't angry at the child per se. No. Far from it. Bill did what she was too afraid to do. "Relax, I am not cross."

"You look like it," Bill muttered under her breath and decided to change the subject. "Anyway, now that John knows how you feel, maybe he'll stop acting like a clueless penguin."

The fairy godmother pondered her options. She could ignore what happened earlier and just carry on with her work or she could talk to John about it.

"If it's of any help," the girl began. "John likes you and I know I've said this before, but I think how he acted earlier proved it."

"I… I can't do this," Clara said to herself. Or could she?

"Do what?"

"Nothing," she immediately dismissed it as the gears in her head began moving. What would happen if she were to bring this up to her superiors? Would they assign her to a different case? That would mean John would lose his memory of her. He would forget her completely and see her as just another stranger.

Bill arched an eyebrow. "You know what my mum likes to say."

"Honesty is the best policy," both said in unison.

She has a point. There's no harm in finally addressing the elephant in the room. Worst case scenario is him forgetting her and her dealing with the heartbreak.

"I'm willing to bet twenty quid the Doctor isn't enjoying his date," Bill chimed.

No doubt that the eleven-year-old would win the bet.


"This looks nice," John commented as he surveyed the restaurant, unsure of what to say. He had been quiet throughout the journey and thought he might as well give a bit of effort. "I like the candles," he commented, eyeing the lit candles on the tables.

Sandra chuckled as she glanced around, wondering why no one had come up to their table as it had been quite a while since they were seated and handed out the menu. "Dined here before with my friends and it's never disappointed."

The Doctor nodded in acknowledgement before glancing at the menu again. He had already decided what he would be having, but what else was he supposed to do? Clara wasn't here to give him any sort of advice. As much as he wanted to spend more time with his fairy godmother, he had to allow her to retire.

"You seem awfully quiet tonight," Sandra commented. He also kept spacing out, but she decided to leave that out. It then dawned to her that perhaps she had been too pushy when she asked him out. That and there is a slight chance he fancied that girl at his shop. "If you-"

"No, no," he insisted, forcing a smile. "Sorry, just got distracted by work."

The lawyer had trouble believing him. She had been in relationships before. There was this look she recognised whenever they regretted something.

She was about to speak when a waitress approached them. "Good evening," she greeted. "Are you ready to order?"

They each ordered their meals and once the waitress was out of earshot, Sandra put her theory to test. "Have you been operating that shop in the same street for long?"

He shook his head. "No, I first opened the shop in King Street, but didn't last very long there due to the rent," he explained. "Moved to Ealing and then finally settled in Kensal Garden."

"So I take it you've just hired a new employee then?"

He paused and then squinted his eyes. "Yes, she just came in told me I needed to straighten the place out if I wanted the business to survive," he said, chuckling.

This is was the first time she had seen him laughing since leaving the shop. "So why are we here then?" she questioned in an amused tone. There was no hint of malice or spite.

John's face immediately fell. "Well, because you asked me if I wanted to have dinner?" he replied, smoothing his silver curls.

Sandra raised an eyebrow, sceptical of his answer. As much as their date is a disaster, she didn't mind it. It was a breath of fresh air compared to her previous ones. This is different. Fun yet friendly. She could be a couple's counsellor at this point. "Please, you were still eyeing her when he left."

The Doctor wanted to do nothing more than to bang his head on the table. The night had turned out worse than he had anticipated. Clara is going to kill him. "I was asking her to give me some last-minute advice."

Sandra leaned against the cushioned chair. "How long are you going to be in denial, John?"

He found it strange that the attention was mostly shifted to him throughout the conversation as his mind began connecting the dots. "Did you do this on purpose?"

"Do what?" she asked casually.

The lawyer was clearly playing a game and enjoying it greatly. "Why?" he asked. "Why go through all the trouble just to try and get me to confess?"

She shrugged in response. "She was jealous, wasn't she?"

His silent gave her the answer she was looking for.

"Who are you?"

"Doesn't matter," she murmured. "My name is too long and complicated for you to have the patience to pronounce it."

"Make it shorter."

"Let's not change the subject and focus on Clara for now."

He frowned. She couldn't be a fairy, too, could she? How would that explain her child? As he was about to question her, their meals arrived.

"What's stopping you from being honest with her?" Sandra asked calmly, cutting her steak. "And please, save your breath from giving me the obvious answer."

"Well, she stated clearly that I wasn't her type."

"She was lying."

"Her retirement-"

"Not really that relevant."

"She's looking forward to-"

Sandra raised both eyebrows. "If she's really looking forward to that retirement, she would have been completely fine with this."

John looked down at his plate. He wasn't even that hungry. "Who are you?" he repeated, looking up.

She thought it was better to get formalities out of the way before drilling some sense into the man's head. "Romanadvoratrelundar."