A/N: This is a multi-chapter fic. I've got the whole story mapped out and have written most of the chapters. Will update frequently.

Clara Oswald made sure to check her reflection in the mirror just before stepping through the doors of her newest place of employment. The short brunette always knew she wanted to be a teacher. Maybe it was because she had a way with children, or perhaps it was because she rather enjoyed telling other people what to do. Some would say she might have been a bit of a control freak. Or better yet, a bit bossy.

Clara chuckled at the memory of her best friend giving her the nickname 'sassafrass' regarding her sassy nature. Nervous energy had woken her early that morning, giving her plenty of time to make sure she looked her best. It was her first day operating as a proper teacher with her own class and pupils.

"Ahh, Clara! Lovely to see you. How are you feeling about taking over the reins?" Said the older man. He was around 56 years of age but had the exuberance of a much younger man. One must have an adequate level of energy to be the headmaster of a primary school.

Clara gave a nervous laugh. "I think I'm ready. I mean, it will be a lot different than the age group I'm used to. Not to mention I'll be the primary teacher rather than the assistant but... I'm excited!"

"That's the spirit!" responded Headmaster McKenzie.

Clara had previously worked in the secondary school building next door. She started as a supply teacher and then transitioned into a teacher's assistant. She dreamed of becoming an English teacher for year 10 after moving on from nannying the Maitland children but ended up taking the first job that came her way as a supply teacher instead.

Clara sighed as she made her way to the 2nd year's classroom. Mrs Thompson was getting ready to go on maternity leave, and Clara would be taking over as the class. She was a bit hesitant when they offered her the position, but after sitting in the classroom a few of the afternoons, she warmed up to the idea of working with the younger children. However, Clara knew she would have to work hard to win over her pupils. Mrs Thompson had previously taught the children in year 1, so they were very familiar with her. The school required the teachers to move up with the children for stage 1. It was now nearly four weeks into the Autumn term. The nearly 28-year-old's goal was to have won over the children and their parents by half term.

When she entered the room, she saw that Mrs Thomson had left her a neat stack of notes and suggestions to make the transition as smooth as possible. The children had been aware that their beloved teacher would be leaving because she would soon be having yet another baby. They watched her belly grow during the latter part of year 1, and when they returned from summer holiday, they could not get over how large her belly had gotten as she still did the lessons the first few weeks.

Clara set her satchel down and started reading over the notes. Hoping to get a grasp of the day before her pupils began to arrive. Her Pupils. She smiled at the thought. Clara looked up when she heard some giggling coming from the doorway. She smiled at the tiny faces beginning to congregate at the entrance. Unsure if it was alright to enter.

"Come on, now. I won't bite!" She gave a warm smile. The children then began to run in and go about their business. Placing their coats and bags in the proper cubby. They already knew the routine, given it was a few weeks into the term. When it was time to begin lessons, all the children sat quietly, waiting for her to call their names.

Clara began to go through the list. She hadn't really gotten to know the children yet, and because she would only ever sit in during the latter part of the day, she wasn't there for roll call and didn't know which names belonged to which face. There was a timid knock at the now-closed door when she reached halfway through the list. Clara paused and went to open it.

"I'm sorry I'm late. My...my father. He got the time wrong," came a small voice.

She looked down at a young boy who seemed a bit out of sorts. Almost like he was still half asleep. He looked up at her with a timid smile. Clara smiled and thought he looked rather dapper for a boy of 6. Wearing braces and a bow tie under his tiny brown tweed jacket. The boy's bright blue eyes reminded Clara of a Caribbean sea. They stood out in contrast to his hair that was a wild mess of ginger curls that stopped right at his rather large ears. He looked like he wasn't old enough to even be 6, given how small he was, but his speech suggested that he was old enough to be in year 2.

Clara could see that the boy was a bit distressed. Like being late was a common occurrence to which the boy was embarrassed. He brushed past her, put his things away, and then took his seat. Clara finished going through the names to find out the boy's name was Paul. Paul Smith. She noted to talk to the boy's father if being late was a common occurrence as parent's day was right around the corner.

It was the end of the day, and Clara began to pack up her belongings as the children had gone to the pickup queue. She was grateful that she didn't have to be a part of that mess. The highly strategic manoeuvring of ensuring each child was sent off with their proper guardian. Just as she was about to leave, her door opened. It was the headmaster. Standing behind him was little Paul.

"Miss Oswald?" Spoke Headmaster McKenzie.

"Yes? Is something wrong?"

The man then nudged the boy into the room. "It appears that no one arrived to pick up Mr Paul here. Normally, we'd send him to aftercare, but he asked if he could sit in here with you instead. If it's alright with you, that is."

"Oh. Well, of course. I mean. Did someone phone his mum or dad? Are they on their way? I really don't mind waiting." She set her bag down and took her coat off to set it on the back of her chair. Paul went straight over to the construction blocks and began to play. Once again, confirming to Clara that this was a common occurrence. The headmaster then pulled her aside.

He leaned in to speak so Paul couldn't hear. "He gets bullied in aftercare. The lad is a bit small for his age, and the kids, well, his classmates, love him to death, but the older kids can be quite cruel. He usually would hang about with me, in my office, but I've got a meeting. His father should be here to get him soon."

"What about his mother? Does she work or…?"

"Ah, well, I guess Mrs Thompson didn't tell you. His, um, mother isn't in the picture. From what we know, she passed when he was a baby, so we...we don't really talk about it."

Clara felt a pang in her chest. She'd lost her mum at a young age and hated that any child would have to grow up without the love of a mother. The man then squeezed her shoulder and left. Clara sat back at her desk and picked up her mobile. 3 missed calls.

'Shit.' she thought. She had completely forgotten that she was supposed to phone Danny as soon as she was done with work to let him know it went well. She quickly sent a text to his mobile apologising for missing his calls and that she didn't know when she'd be able to leave. She set down the phone down and rubbed her brow as she sighed.

"I'm sorry."

Clara jumped, not realising Paul was now standing right in front of her desk. She hadn't even noticed him walk over. Clara smiled.

"No, no. Don't apologise. It's alright." Her mobile chimed. It was Danny.

Danny: No, problem, love. I'm just glad you had a good first day. We'll catch up when you get home. :)

Clara: Thanks xx

The boy gave a sheepish smile and went back to the building blocks. He'd already constructed a very intricate looking structure. She was about to comment on how he'd make a sound engineer when there was a frantic knock at the door.

"Ahh. I bet I know who that is." Said Clara with a smile. Paul just gave a tight smile as he went to grab his belongings. Clara opened the door to see a pudgy blond man. Behind him stood another boy who looked like he was in year 3 or 4.

"Hello!" he said cheerily. He then peered into the room. "Hey, Paul. I'm here to take you home." He then turned to Clara and offered her a hand.

"My name is Craig. This is my son Alfie." The little boys were already out of the room talking about some game they would play when they got home. "Wait for me!" called Craig as the boys were already sprinting towards the exit.

"Um, Mr Smith?" Clara questioned. The man looked confused. He then made a face as if he understood what was happening. "Oh, no. I'm not his father. I'm Craig Owens. A good friend of his dad. He's... he's a bit tied up at the moment with work, so he asked me to fetch Paul. Sorry, I'm late. He only phoned me 10 minutes ago. He can be a bit...unpredictable."

"Oh. I see. Okay. No problem." Clara could see that Craig was getting nervous about the two boys' whereabouts as he kept looking down the corridor whenever he heard them let out a loud bout of laughter.

"They seem like great friends." Said Clara. She'd grabbed her coat and bag and was now walking alongside Craig.

"Yeah, they get along well. For the most part. Although, they consider themselves brothers. His father, er...Dr. Smith and Paul lived with us for a bit after, well... We're all very close. Sophie, my wife, she's like a mum to him since his mum has passed. I'm sure you know, given you're his teacher."

Clara nodded in understanding. "Well, I'm glad that they've got support. I lost my mum when I was young. Watched my dad struggle as a single parent." She said sadly.

They were now caught up with the boys as they walked to the car park.

"It was nice meeting you, Craig." She called out as he was helping wrangle the boys into the back of his car.

"Nice to finally meet you too, Mrs Thompson!" Craig got into the car before Clara could correct him. He must have never met the previous teacher and only knew her name. Clara sighed as she got into her tiny automobile and drove back to her flat.

...

Clara put the key into the lock of her flat. When she opened the door, she smiled. There was some soft music playing in the background, and she could already smell her favourite takeaway food. Clara made her way through the tiny living space and found Danny, unboxing the food.

He spun around when he heard her cough to get his attention.

"Clara!" he said affectionately. He helped her take off her coat and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. He then set their plates on the table and poured some wine.

"What's all this for?" Clara asked in an amused tone.

"You survived your first day as a primary school teacher!" He said happily as he sat down at the end of the table, so they were next to each other.

"Thought we should celebrate." He said with a smile.

Clara rolled her eyes then grabbed her wine glass. "Well, it's not what I imagined for myself, but...it is nice. Having a class of my own." She said with a smile. "Even if it is just rudimentary reading and silly songs." she chuckled. "And consoling their boo-boos," she added.

Danny chuckled. "Well, in my opinion, primary education is much harder than what I do."

"That may be true, but for whatever reason, when one comes across an old friend from uni, and I tell them I'm a primary school teacher...it just doesn't have the same effect as when I say that my boyfriend teaches maths at the university."

Danny was now the one rolling his eyes. He'd been teaching maths in secondary school for quite some time and made the switch to teaching at the university when the position opened up. He'd gotten the job 2 years prior and had settled into the new role quickly.

…

Clara rolled onto her side as Danny got out of the bed to put on his

nightclothes. She had a satisfied smile on her face as she threw on her dressing gown.

"Worked up quite the sweat there." She chuckled as she made her way to the loo. "I'm gonna have a shower before bed."

Danny mumbled something, already falling asleep due to the post-coital haze. Clara was now standing under the water, washing her hair and thinking about her mum. When Clara was a little girl, her mum would always give her a soothing scalp massage while scrubbing out the dirt that managed its way into her thick brown locks after playing for hours at the park. She smiled at the memory.

She then thought about the little boy she somewhat bonded with today. Paul Smith. At first, she felt a bit of anger towards the boy's father for not only getting him to school late but not even coming to pick him up. On the other hand, she had a bit more sympathy for the man, now knowing that his wife had died and he was raising the boy on his own. Clara turned off the shower and wrapped the fuzzy bath towel around her frame. She then put on her pyjamas and made her way into the comfort of her shared bed.