24 Hours Ago

John Smith stared at his commander icily after she briefed him of his next task. "Are you mad?" he demanded.

"Last time I checked, no," Commander Kate Lethbridge-Stewart replied as she pulled her chair forward. "Look, Clarkson's son broke his leg and has been hospitalised and his wife is unable to get time off of work to look after the child, so he needs someone to cover for him."

"Do I look like children will listen to me?" he growled. "Especially teenagers."

"That's why you'll be wearing your uniform," she quipped sarcastically. "And that's final."

John pursed his lips. "You can't force me to do this."

"As your commander, I can," Kate pointed out before sighing. She would have asked someone else to give the talk, but John is the only person who has a free schedule tomorrow morning. "Please, I'm also asking as your friend."

He exhaled through his nose. "One hour and that's it," he grumbled. "I'll do what I have to and then leave."

"Deal."

"Someone's finally back from so-called hell, yeah?" Donna Noble quipped as he strode past the bullpen and into his office.

"Yes, Donna, I am alive," John replied to the division secretary.

"How did it go?" a colleague asked, grinning as he swivelled in his chair.

He would have said quite well since a teacher had agreed to go on a date with him, but that was something they didn't need to know. "As well as you might expect," he muttered. "They're teenagers and they're not interested in listening to a police officer."

Donna squinted her eyes. "Hang on there, police boy," she said, and John paused just before he entered his office. "You're happy."

"Something interesting happened, John?"

He rolled his eyes. "None of your bloody business," he muttered before reaching for his bag and checking to see if he had the spare clothes he packed earlier in the morning.

Five months. He had been promoted to DCS and transferred to a new division just five months ago. How did they manage to figure him out? Maybe he's indeed rubbish at hiding things.

"Did you manage to impress one of the teachers with the uniform, boss-man?" Donna asked teasingly.

"I hate banter," he grumbled, earning laughter from his colleagues as he headed for the changing rooms.

Once John was out of earshot, everyone turned their attention to Donna. "So, Donna, you've known him since before he joined this division, what's he up to?"

It was quite obvious their superior was in a jovial mood when he returned to Scotland Yard. He wasn't grumpy or cranky and that was a good sign.

"Could be anything, really," the secretary replied. "The man is as unpredictable as the lottery."

"I'm willing to bet twenty quid that a teacher flirted with him," Detective Sergeant Aidan Bailey said.

"No," the woman sitting in the desk next to him joined in. "Far too cheery for it – maybe she asked him out on a date?"

The group murmured in agreement, seeing such a scenario as a possibility.

"I guess there's a silver lining for everything," Rena Patel commented. "I mean, he was practically moody all day long because he had to, and I quote, 'deal with insane teenagers who have no interest in hearing how dangerous drugs are'."

Donna shrugged. "Sometimes I think he's from outer space."

"How are you so sure that he's not?" Aidan pointed out.

"Aren't you people supposed to be working instead of gossiping like a bunch of school-girls?" John Smith growled. He was dressed in plainclothes, something that shouldn't have been an issue for the talk to begin with.

"Oi, police boy, don't forget your manners, yeah?" Donna shot back. She was the only one in the division, or rather, the entire Scotland Yard daring enough to snap back at him.

If he dared to admit it, he enjoys arguing with her. Keeps him on his toes. John said nothing as he entered his office.

For the rest of the afternoon, the team resumed their work and had expected their superior to stay in late. To their surprise, just before four, he collected his belongings.

"This is new," Donna murmured. "You have a date or something?"

He thought that it was best to just come clean with them before they discover it themselves and tease him to no end. "Yes," he admitted quietly.

Aidan and Rena were shocked by his confession but were happy for him at the same time. DCS John Smith finally has a life outside of the police force. Looks like their constant bantering finally paid off.

"They weren't dozing off, so I count that as a win," Clara said just before she took a sip of her hot chocolate.

John pursed his lips. "I wouldn't blame them if they did since the speech wasn't written by me."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what sort of words did you have in mind, Detective Chief Superintendent?"

He shrugged, a twinkle in his eyes as he hid the small smile playing on his lips with the paper cup. "Something along the lines of 'I hate speeches, so let me just get straight to the point: drugs are bad, drugs are harmful, drugs won't get you that new iPhone you've been begging your parents to get you'.'"

The schoolteacher chuckled. "That last bit was very specific."

"I was told to 'connect' with them, so there you go."

"Why not that new folding phone instead?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't sound as good."

She grinned. "So I guess that means you wouldn't connect with students who use something other than an iPhone then?"

John couldn't help but grin as well. "How long have you been teaching?" he asked, changing the subject. He remembered the self-help book he was reading mentioning that the conversation should be about his date too.

"I've been teaching since I left uni," Clara began. "Moved from one school to another before finally settling at Coal Hill three years ago."

"Oh," he answered, racking his brain over what to say next. "What made you stay?"

He really should have had cue cards ready or something, then again, she would probably find it strange if he whipped it out if he had any to begin with.

She beamed and he felt relieved that he was doing better than expected. "There are a few reasons, but the first is pretty cliché."

"The location?" he guessed, arching a brow.

"Yeah, I know, everyone says that," she laughed.

"Always saw it as a dump," he commented without thinking and realised his mistake shortly after.

Clara looked at him.

"I mean, it's not quite literally a dump," John stammered, cursing his mouth for having a mind of its own. "But…"

"But it still has its charms?" she added with a hint of amusement.

He dropped his shoulders. "Sometimes," he admitted, a twinkle in his eyes.

The schoolteacher glanced down at the cup warming her hands. Since their meeting at school, she kept wondering what made her say yes. He's attractive, no doubt, but it would usually take a lot more than good looks to please her. Maybe it was his awkwardness. "Enough about me," she said. "What made you come all the way here from Scotland?"

"Work."

To his surprise, she chuckled.

"I think we've established that."

John knitted his eyebrows before it struck him what she meant. "Oh, um… I was transferred to Scotland Yard a few months ago."

"You make the achievement sound like a nuisance."

He shrugged. "It's hard not to when your boss is your childhood friend who thinks she gets a pass at torturing me."

"And look where it led you," she said pointedly.

John couldn't help but smile. He supposed he should thank Kate for this opportunity. "I guess you do have a point."

Once they finished their drinks, he offered to walk Clara to the tube station and she happily agreed. It seemed that the date was a success and he hoped she would say yes to another.

The closer they got to the tube, the more nervous he felt. What should he say now? Maybe he should have sought advice from Donna and brave through the eternal teasing rather than letting ego get the best of him.

"This is actually my stop," Clara said as she tore him out of his thoughts.

John hadn't realised that he had nearly walked past the tube station until she reminded him. "Oh, right, sorry," he apologised.

"Thank you for the hot chocolate."

He nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. "Glad you liked it."

"I loved it."

"Is that a good indication about the date then?" John thought out loud.

The detective had expected her to turn around and walk away, never to speak to him again, but to his surprise, she granted him a smile. "Do you always think this loud?"

"Usually, no."

She giggled. "To answer your question, yes, it is."

His eyebrows went up.

"Ever heard of Mick's Fish and Chips?"

Of course, he had. He and his colleagues would dine there after cracking a difficult case. "Yes."

"Friday at 7?"

John Smith could only grin in response. This was going a lot better than the scenario in his mind.

Clara Oswald was all smiles when she got on the tube, got off the tube after several stops and it seemed that nothing could spoil her mood that evening. They had even exchanged numbers before she left!

As she entered the compound of her flat, she spotted a familiar figure observing her from the balcony that was just a floor above hers.

When he was caught, he immediately returned inside.

Looks like she would need to have a quick chat with him.

By the time she had reached the second floor, Danny was waiting by the staircase, standing tall and avoiding her gaze. She really didn't understand why all this was necessary.

"You do realise it's just us and you can relax, right?"

The former soldier met her gaze and slumped his shoulders slightly.

She might as well get straight to the point. "I know that my father will be phoning you in a few days to ask about me," she began. "Do not mention this to him," she instructed. "I'll do it on my own."

He wanted to argue that Dave is not the type of her man who appreciated details being spared. He wanted to know everything. However, he knew he couldn't say no to Clara. Not to those eyes. Danny could only nod in agreement.

"Thank you, Danny," Clara said sincerely.

"Clara," he replied, nodding his head before walking up the flight of stairs.

As soon as he was out of her sight, she turned around and approached the door to her flat. Her father would surely be unhappy when he learns that his daughter has a date with a detective, which brings her to Dylan Clarkson.

Her smartphone rang and the man's name flashed on the screen. Speak of the devil. "Dylan."

"Clara, you're not busy right, now are you?" he inquired.

"No, just got home," she answered, tossing the keys into the bowl next to her. "Is Charlie ok?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Nearly had a heart attack when the school phoned me."

"Dad, you're over-reacting!" a voice was heard in the background.

The schoolteacher chuckled. "Let me talk to him."

She heard the phone being passed over. "Hi, Aunty Clara."

For the next ten minutes, the two chatted everything from video games to when she would visit him at the hospital.

"So how did the talk go?" Dylan questioned. "It can't be as boring as when I was there."

She merely smiled but decided to leave out certain details. "It was fine."

There was a pause. "That's it?"

"Were you expecting the superintendent to bring actual drugs?"

"What?" he said. "They sent my boss?"

She wondered how he would react if he ever found out that she went on a date with John. Hell, there was one coming up this weekend. "John Smith."

"Didn't think he'd bond well with teenagers."

"There's a reason why teenagers are teenagers," Clara replied, pouring herself a cup of tea. "A lot of them were half-asleep and besides, he wasn't that bad."

"Ok, then," Dylan said. "I won't take much of your time now since Charlie wants to play FIFA."

"Wait, before you go," she added. "When was the last time dad contacted you?"

The detective was silent for a second. "A week ago," he answered. "He's in Spain right now… why do you ask?"

"Just curious since I haven't heard from him for almost a week now."

"Knowing what your father is like, I'd say he'll contact you soon."

Once she hung up after saying goodbye to Dylan and Charlie, she tossed her phone aside and leaned against the cushions.

For the first time in a while, she's genuinely excited about going on a date, despite the situation and their backgrounds.