A/N: I'm back! Thanks for the comments and whatnot! It helps me stay motivated to keep writing. I enjoy it, so I'd probably keep writing regardless (it's a matter of posting said writing or not). It's nice to know people are actually reading my stories. Thank you! :D

…

It wasn't long before Paul was back in school and Clara's father returned from holiday with Linda. Clara went back to her family home (with a wheelchair in tow) to slowly but surely pretend to get her mobility back. Thankfully Dave Oswald had no qualms when his daughter insisted she had enough strength to care for her own basic needs.

The Doctor contemplated finding another place to practice medicine, but that would only raise more questions from Clara about why he'd quit in the first place. So, instead of finding a job, the Time Lord did the only logical thing he thought to do. He pretended to be Clara's physical therapist.

Initially, Clara was hesitant about such an elaborate deception, but the Doctor said it would only help the situation. Conveniently leaving out that the situation he was actually referring to was his own dreadful boredom. And also possibly the fact he wanted to spend more time with her.

Thus, their daily routine was established. The Doctor would drop Paul off at school, spend a few hours with Clara, wander aimlessly around London, then pick Paul up from school (on time, mind you). Everything was going according to plan. Which usually meant that the Doctor would eventually do something idiotic to bumble everything.

"You know, I think this is actually working," said Clara as she set a cup of tea in front of the Doctor. Dave and Linda both worked during the day, so all the Doctor had to do was show up when they were leaving for work to establish his presence as Clara's PT. Once they were gone, Clara would immediately get out of the chair to shower while the Doctor just read a book on the sofa. At least he made it look like he was reading. He was usually lost in thought about something.

"I'd say so," responded the Doctor and taking the tea. "Your father even thanked me. Said he believes you'll be running a marathon any day now," he chuckled.

It had been two months since beginning their little rouse, and Clara was able to walk about the house without anyone batting an eye. Thankfully, Dave and Linda just accepted her rapid and miraculous recovery, chalking it up to good luck and an even better physical therapy regimen.

"So.." began Clara. "The TARDIS. We haven't really talked much about your, er, spaceship. Or the fact that you're over 1000 years old?" said Clara with a raised eyebrow.

They'd previously kept most of their conversations pretty light. Mainly talking about Paul and the funny things he said or did that week.

"Ah, right. That. The TARDIS is still safely tucked away in my attic and as far as being an over 1000-year-old alien. Well, there really isn't much else to say."

Clara bobbed her head back and forth as if debating within herself.

"You look like you want to ask me something," said the Doctor in an amused tone.

"Was wondering if maybe, oh, I don't know. Maybe we could…travel? Somewhere other than here?"

"And by here, do you mean your father's house or here as in London 2018?"

Clara gave a wicked grin indicating she was referring to the latter.

The Doctor then had an idea. An idea he knew was probably reckless and stupid. The Time Lord looked at Clara with an equally wicked grin.

"Clara? How would you like to go ghost hunting?"

…

"When you said ghost hunting, you were serious, weren't you?" asked Clara as the two walked up the steps of the creepy manor.

"Of course I was serious! This, Clara is the infamous Caliburn House. There is said to be a strange ghost that has been haunting the home for centuries. I've always wondered what it could possibly be."

"You don't think it's a real ghost?"

"Well, I didn't say that. But it wouldn't hurt to have a look."

They were now approaching the door. The Doctor wasn't lying when he said he was interested in the supposedly haunted house. But his primary reason for visiting the Caliburn house in 1974 wasn't to hunt ghosts. Instead, it was to seek out the empath, Emma Grayling. Maybe she could give him some answers to the mystery of Clara Oswald?

Before knocking on the door, the Doctor was struck with another idea. A rather juvenile idea.

…

Alec Palmer adjusted his glasses as he readied the microphone. "Caliburn House, night four, November 25th, 1974. 11.04 pm." He then nodded to Emma for her to begin.

"I'm talking to the spirit that inhabits this house. Are you there? Can you hear me?" Emma began. Nothing. "I'm speaking to the lost soul that abides in this place."

Suddenly, the paper graph began to move.

"Come to me. Speak to me. Let me show you the way home," she continued. "Let me show you the way home!"

A harsh high pitched noise range through Alec's headphones.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed his camera to start taking photographs of whatever was approaching them.

Emma couldn't help her fear as she staggered for the nearest chair.

"Emma?" questioned Alec, concerned for his assistant.

"She's so…."

"So what?" he questioned.

"Dead."

Alec didn't know what to think about Emma's statement as he stared into her frightened eyes. A knock at the door broke him out of his trance. He slowly approached the large ornate doors and opened the right side carefully. There was no one there. He relaxed slightly only to then be startled by a strange man.

"Boo!" the Doctor yelled with a laugh before getting serious. "Hello, I'm looking for a ghost."

"And you are?" questioned Alec warily. Then, a short woman appeared out of nowhere, holding a bright red umbrella.

"Ghostbusters," answered Clara with a dimpled smile.

…

The Doctor now stood next to Clara outside the "not so scary anymore" Caliburn House. It was then that something occurred to him.

"It all makes sense now!" he exclaimed.

"What does?" asked Clara with a curious glance.

"It's the oldest story in the universe, this one or any other. Boy and girl fall in love, get separated by events. War, politics, accidents in time. She's thrown out of the hex, or he's thrown into it. Since then, they've been yearning for each other across time and space, across dimensions. This isn't a ghost story. It's a love story!"

The Doctor hadn't realised he'd draped his arm around Clara. He immediately removed the offending limb and straightened his posture.

"Sorry," he spoke softly before running back to the others.

Apparently, the strange creature in the pocket universe was simply trying to get back to the strange creature skulking about the house. Emma managed to open the portal again, allowing the Doctor to grab "Romeo" and return him to his "Juliet." With the help of the TARDIS and Clara, of course.

After everything was settled, the Doctor triple checked the coordinates to make sure they would arrive back in London only moments after leaving. That would give Clara enough time to get home and the Doctor enough time to pick Paul up from school.

…

"Daddy!" cried Paul as he ran into his father's arms.

"Hello, Paul! How was school today?" They began walking hand in hand.

The weather was amicable, allowing them to walk home.

"I dunno," said Paul.

"You don't know? Well, what did you do?"

"I don't remember."

Right, back to this. Paul seemed to not enjoy school as much now that Clara wasn't his teacher. He still did well and got along with his classmates, but he didn't care enough to share his thoughts about the day anymore.

The Doctor felt a little guilty for taking Clara somewhere in the TARDIS without Paul. Maybe he could take his son somewhere fun? He was supposed to be spending more time with him anyway.

"Paul, would you like to go somewhere in the TARDIS with me? This weekend, of course. Don't want to tire you out for school."

Paul's little face lit up. "Can Clara come too!" he exclaimed with a big smile.

"Well, I mean, I'd have to ask…."

"Yes! Ask! I want to see her! I miss her!" he giggled as he ran to their front door.

"So, you wouldn't want to go, just me and you?" asked the Doctor as they entered the house.

Paul turned and shrugged. "I mean, we could but, I want our whole family to be together."

The Doctor's hearts pricked. Of course, he'd want Clara to come. Paul still held onto the belief that Clara was his mum. The Doctor, on the other hand, wasn't so sure anymore. After Emma told him Clara was just an ordinary girl, he began to have his doubts again. But, Paul seemed to be doing well with it all. The Doctor sighed then smiled.

"Well then, Paul, where would you like to go?"

"Ice cream! I want to go get ice cream."

The Doctor was chuckling at how simple his son's request was. But, of course, regardless of having all of time and space, Paul would want to go get ice cream.

"Paul, that is a brilliant idea."

Paul leapt into his father's arms. "I love you, daddy."

The Doctor nearly wept at how pure and innocent his son was. Here he was, his father with the blood of so many people on his hands. Yet, somehow the universe allowed him to parent such a pure and wholesome little boy. What had he done to deserve such an honour?

...

Over the next few months, it became routine for the Doctor to take Clara and Paul on simple Earthbound adventures every Saturday. And on every Wednesday, the Doctor would take Clara somewhere "awesome" in the TARDIS. Things usually went according to plan. Keyword: usually.

"That was a bit frightening," said Clara as she wrung out her wet hair.

They were meant to be in Vegas, but the TARDIS had other plans. Plans involving Russians and Martians and lots of water.

"I'm sorry, Clara. You shouldn't have had to see those men. Their bodies."

They were both sitting on the cramped (but dry) bed in the Captain's quarters. He'd given up his own lodging to Clara, seeing as the other bunks housed all the trigger-happy men. Not to mention the bunks were in a foot of water. The Doctor didn't need to sleep much, so he planned to keep guard outside Clara's room.

"Doctor, it's alright. You couldn't have known this was going to happen. I'm just glad it all worked out, and everyone is okay. Well, for the most part," she said sadly. Knowing that not everyone survived the Ice Warrior's anger made Clara sad. Some of the men who died were so young and had their whole lives ahead of them.

The Doctor gave Clara a small smile. "Well, I'll just be right outside the door if you need anything."

"Are you guarding me?" she questioned with a teasing smile.

"Well, yes. Yes, I am," said the Doctor. No reason to lie to her at this point.

"You're seriously going to sit out there all night?"

The Doctor gave a nervous laugh. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I am." He smiled. "I promise I won't budge from this spot," he said, pointing to the space just outside the metal door.

Clara raised an eyebrow.

"Clara, I've told you, I'm a Time Lord. I don't sleep near as much as humans do. And besides, there might be another scary monster lurking about the sub somewhere."

He hadn't been serious about another monster. He just didn't want to say what he was really afraid of. Afraid some men might not have the purest intentions with the only female aboard the sub. And a rather young and beautiful one at that. Clara seemed to understand what he was implying and nodded in agreement.

"Well, thank you. Good night, Doctor."

"Good night, Clara."

Clara shut the door and made herself comfortable in the not so comfortable bed. Meanwhile, the Doctor sat down with his back against the door. He leant his head back as he wiped his wet fringe out of his face. It wasn't the most comfortable position. Not to mention being soaked to the bone. He just hoped they'd reach the TARDIS sooner rather than later.

The Doctor was worried that he wouldn't return at the proper time. Paul would be devastated to find out his father was "missing." And he didn't even want to think how the little Time Lord would react if he found out his beloved Miss Clara was missing as well.

It was a few days later when Clara suggested to the Doctor that he at least try to get some sleep.

"I know you said you don't need much sleep but, you look horrible, Doctor. You've got dark circles under your eyes!"

He sighed, knowing she was right. He was reaching his limit on waking hours. If he didn't sleep tonight, he wouldn't be able to think straight.

"You're probably right. I can sleep on the floor," he began awkwardly. "It's just, the bunks are still in a foot of water, and I'd rather not experience a literal water bed," he chuckled nervously.

"I wouldn't expect you to want to sleep underwater," she laughed.

The Doctor made his way into the room, took off his jacket and set it down. His clothes were finally dry, which significantly improved his mood.

Clara sat on the bed.

"I'd offer to share the bed, but in all honestly, I doubt it's much more comfortable than the floor," she laughed. "And I think your legs are too long. They'd hang right off!"

The Doctor chuckled. He was relieved Clara wasn't offering her bed. Not that he would've minded snuggling up to her, but he was pretty sure she would mind how his body would inevitably react being so close to her.

Clara nestled in under the blankets while the Doctor made a small palette with extra blankets. It took a bit to get comfortable. Once he found a favourable position, his eyes closed as he instantly fell asleep.

"I was beginning to think you forgot all about me," came the familiar voice.

The Doctor opened his eyes. He was still in the cramped room on the sub, but Clara was now leaning against the wall. Not Clara, who was still sound asleep in bed. But HIS, Clara. She was wearing her Victorian governess dress.

"Clara?" questioned the Doctor as he sat up.

"So, he remembers my name, does he?" She had a smile on her face indicating she was teasing and not spiteful.

"Of course I remember you. How could I ever forget you?" The Doctor rose to his feet and made his way over to his lover. He knew it was just a dream, but damn, he missed her so much he didn't care. He was now standing right in front of her with a small smile. Clara looked into his eyes with the familiar sparkle and love behind them.

"I've missed you so much," he said with a sob. He went to hug her, but she backed up. "What's wrong?"

"Doctor, I'm afraid you can't touch me. Not now," she said sadly.

"Why? This is just a dream. I don't understand."

She made a face he couldn't quite discern. "I just want you to know I love you. And to answer your question. No." She once again had a smile on her face.

The Doctor wasn't sure what question she was referring to. But before he could speak, he heard her voice again. Only it came from the other side of the room. He turned his head.

"Doctor? Are you alright?" asked Clara, sleep still clinging to her voice.

The Doctor blinked a few times and realised he was standing exactly where he had been in the dream. He looked to the spot where his Clara had been, but no one was there.

"Who were you talking to?" Clara got out of the bed and came over to him. She placed a hand on his back, causing him to flinch. "I'm sorry."

"No. I'm sorry…I." He looked again to where Clara stood in his supposed dream. "I must have been dreaming," he said sadly.

Clara rubbed her thumb across his cheek. "You're crying," she said softly. She then brought him in for an unexpected hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

The Doctor nearly laughed. "Sorry? For what. You've done nothing wrong. I'm the one sleepwalking. And sleep crying," he chuckled.

Clara took a slow step back. "I'm sorry I'm not her."

The comment caught him off guard. "Clara, what do you mean?"

She made her way back to the bed and sat down.

"You look at me sometimes as if you expect me to do or say something that I can only assume your wife would do or say. I know you said I look a bit like her but, Doctor. I'm sorry I'm not her. I can see how much you loved her. Still love her."

He made his way and sat next to her. "I… I'm sorry you've felt that way. I don't want you to think that I expect you to be any different than who you are. I…I really enjoy travelling with you. Not because you remind me of her. You are uniquely you, and I lo…like you. I genuinely like your company."

Clara leaned her head on his shoulder. "Good. Because I genuinely like your company too," she giggled.

…

"You know, crimson wasmy favourite colour, Doctor. Now, I'm not so sure." Clara was rounding the console, still dressed in her uncomfortable Victorian-era gown the TARDIS gave her.

After the mishap with the soviet sub, the Doctor nearly gave up on taking Clara anywhere in the TARDIS again. But, once they finally made the trek back to the Old Girl and arrived back home at the exact time he'd hoped, he figured seeing the awe and wonder in her face was worth a few "misshaps."

Their latest adventure was supposed to be London in 1893. The Doctor was curious whether taking Clara to that particular time would bring up any memories of her other life that he hoped was somewhere in her subconscious. The strange dream he had on the sub still plagued his mind. He initially thought it was a dream, but now he could have sworn Victorian Clara was actually there. And what was the question she was referring to? The Doctor was growing tired of all the mysteries.

Once again, the TARDIS took them on a detour. They ended up in Yorkshire 1893 instead. And of course, there was something nefarious afoot that the Doctor could not help get involved with. He was just glad that Vastra and Jenny didn't bring up the ice woman incident in front of Clara. The lovely couple thought Clara was the same Clara they'd met before, but since it had been a year since they'd last seen her, they simply exchanged pleasantries. When not running or fighting the supermodels or Mrs Gillyflower.

"Well, blue is my favourite colour," said the Doctor absentmindedly.

"And would your favourite shade of blue happen to match a police box that is bigger on the inside?" she questioned playfully.

The Doctor just smiled as he readied the coordinates to take them home.

"You know, Doctor. Now that Paul is going to be on summer holiday, do you think we'll be able to still go on our Wednesday adventures?"

The Doctor hadn't thought about it.

"Well, I mean," he began. "I could always see if he could visit with Alfie for an hour or two."

"I think he should come with us," blurted Clara. She then straightened as if she hadn't meant to say it. "Sorry, I dunno why I said that. I know you're his father. I didn't mean to overstep my bounds."

The Doctor pondered the thought. "No need to apologise. I mean, I'm sure there's somewhere we could all go in the TARDIS. It would only be fair."

…

Paul was now running around the console, causing Clara to laugh.

"I'm going to go on so many rides and eat so many sweets!" squealed the soon-to-be seven-year-old.

"Of course you are!" yelled the Doctor as he readied the controls. "Wouldn't expect anything less during a visit to Hedgewick's World!"