"More chips, please Bill!"
"Coming right up," replied Bill, chopping the potatoes with vigour.
Clara sauntered up, close behind her. "Remember, they should be one centimetre thick." She was grinning.
"Oh, shut up," said Bill, but she smiled back. "Don't nag the girl with the knife in her hand."
Clara pretended to swat her on the backside with the dish-cloth, then went off to clear some tables.
Since the Adventure of the Dog-Devouring Alien (as Bill liked to think of it), many things had changed, but many things had not. Most days still saw her working in the diner; washing dishes, scrambling eggs, assembling milkshakes and – of course – cooking chips. Today was particularly busy. A glorious Saturday afternoon, and the diner was pumping. A new customer – a youngish looking woman with short, swept-back hair – took the last seat at the counter.
"Be with you in just a sec," Bill said, glancing at her. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her forearm, and dumped the latest basket of chips in the deep fryer. She grabbed the order pad and turned around.
"What can I get for you?"
Now that she was paying attention, Bill noticed two very weird things about this woman. The first was her outfit. Long grey coat. Black t-shirt with colourful stripes across the um… chest area. Yellow suspenders. Blue pants. Looking over the counter, Bill saw a flash of ankle, and the ensemble completed by brown boots that wouldn't have looked out of place on a tradesman. Overall, the outfit walked a fine line between audacious and ridiculous, with Bill deciding that it fell down on the side of audacious. Just.
The second weird thing was that the woman was beaming at Bill like a long-lost friend.
"Hello," she said. Her voice was soft, and somehow unfathomably ancient.
"Um, hi," replied Bill.
"Look at you!"
"Pardon?"
"Lemonade."
"Sorry?"
"May I order a lemonade? And chips. Hot chips. You make them really well."
"Oh," said Bill, scribbling down the order. "Have you been here before?" She couldn't recall seeing this woman in the diner, and she was pretty sure she would have remembered someone dressed like that.
"Once or twice. A long time ago."
Bill smiled politely and poured the lemonade.
"You used to work at the university. In the cafeteria." The woman stated this as fact.
"Yes, I did," said Bill, surprised. "Were you a student there?"
"A professor. Again, a long time ago. You don't recognize me, though."
Was that a hint of sadness in her voice? "Sorry," said Bill. "'Fraid not. So many people there, you know? Faces kind of blur into one." She pushed the glass of lemonade across the counter.
"Yes, I know." The woman's eyes were a luminous green. Bill sensed something profound and mysterious in their depths. All of a sudden she thought of the Doctor; his leathery face, grey curls, thin lipped smile. Why should she be thinking of him now?
"Chips won't be long," she said briskly. Must focus on the job. She refilled the coffee cup of the bloke two seats down, grabbed a couple of empty glasses, wiped down the counter. All the time, she was aware of the woman, watching her.
"Are you happy?" asked the woman, quietly.
Huh? "Um," said Bill. "Yeah." She smiled, as she realised she spoke the truth. She had Clara. Her job. A Tardis – even if for now, it wasn't going anywhere. "Yeah, I am actually. Really happy." She wanted to add "But why do you care?" but was saved by the beeping of the deep fryer. She retrieved the chips, shook the excess oil out, and flipped them into the bain-marie.
"Salt?"
"Why not?"
She had just set the plate of chips down in front of the woman, when Clara appeared with a stack of dirty dishes. "Mind giving these a wash for me?"
Bill blinked. Now the customer (Bill had mentally nicknamed her Suspenders Woman) was beaming at Clara like she too was also a long-lost pal.
"Do you work for her?" Suspenders Woman asked Bill, pointing at Clara.
"No," said Clara, taking Bill's hand (a little self-consciously). "She works with me. We're partners. In every sense of the word."
Bill squeezed Clara's hand. It still thrilled and warmed her, to have this reaffirmed.
"Ah," said Suspenders Woman, her eyes rather misty now. "I see. I am so happy for you. So happy, and proud of you both."
Clara tilted her head. "Okay, this is gonna sound weird, but have we met before? You seem familiar, but I don't recall…"
Suspenders Woman smiled. "Memory can be such a tenuous thing. Sometimes you forget, without meaning to. Even the important things. But sometimes, you start to remember. Bits and pieces anyway. Especially as you get older. Or if you change." She picked up a chip, and munched it. "As good as ever, Bill. For example, I can't remember what colour socks I put on this morning, but I can remember the faces of the people I knew when I was younger." She paused to eat another chip. "The people I loved when I was younger."
Bill sensed Clara's smile becoming a little forced. Suspenders Woman was being strange. Rambling on about memory and growing older, when she didn't look a day over thirty-five. "That's nice," said Clara politely. "Enjoy your food."
"Speaking of food," said Suspenders Woman, "I don't have any money to pay for it." She took a slurp of her lemonade.
Clara dropped Bill's hand, and folded her arms. "Okay. That could be just a bit of a problem." Despite her words, Bill thought she sounded more amused than annoyed.
Suspenders Woman wiped her mouth with a napkin. "However, this might help square the deal." From her coat pocket she pulled out a long, skinny piece of metal (at least, Bill assumed it was metal), flared at the end like a trumpet. Suspenders Woman pushed it across the counter towards Clara.
Clara gasped, and picked it up, reverently. "Oh my god. Bill, this is a Borger valve!"
"Really? Let me see!"
Clara turned back to Suspenders Woman. "How did you-"
But Suspenders Woman was gone, the seat spinning slightly.
Bill and Clara stared at each other.
"She knew what a Borger valve is," said Clara slowly.
"And she seemed to know us."
"You don't think-"
"No way!"
From outside the diner came a familiar wheezing noise. The sound of a Tardis dematerializing. Without hesitation, Bill and Clara raced outside… just in time to see the blue police box disappearing. The wheezing slowly faded, but Bill found herself jumping up and down, laughing and whooping. Next to her, Clara was doing exactly the same.
"It was him! It was really him!" cried Bill.
"Her," corrected Clara.
"God, yes. So he must have Rejigged-"
"Regenerated."
"- into a woman!"
"Did you see her hair? It was great."
"He always had great hair."
"Explains the boots. Can you imagine running away from Daleks wearing high heels?"
"I wonder if those were Sonic Earrings?"
"Wouldn't surprise me."
They looked at each other and laughed, but behind the laughter, Bill almost felt a little teary; a sense of loss and renewal.
"You know what this means, now we have a Borger valve?" asked Clara.
"We can get fix the Tardis. Go anywhere we like," said Bill.
"Oh yes!"
"So after we close tonight, we'll install it, yeah?"
But Clara wasn't waiting until closing time. She sprinted back inside the diner, Bill at her heels. The place was still packed; customers lined up at the counter, jukebox blaring. Clara yanked the cord, and the music abruptly stopped. In the sudden silence, Clara climbed up onto the counter, and clapped her hands for attention.
"Everybody out!" she ordered. "This diner is closed until further notice. I'm going to have to ask you all to leave."
There were gasps of astonishment, and murmurs of annoyance.
"Sorry," added Bill, grinning sheepishly at everyone.
"Is this for health reasons?" asked a podgy looking man. He prodded anxiously at his bacon and eggs.
"Yes!" said Clara, at the exact same second that Bill said "No!" They quickly glanced at each other. "There is nothing wrong with the food," Bill informed the crowd firmly. Yes, all of time and space awaited, but she wasn't going to have her cooking or hygiene habits criticized.
"But I haven't finished my milkshake!" complained a freckly teenage boy.
"You can take it with you," Clara told him. "Come on, don't dilly dally!"
"But we need to pay," protested an elderly lady.
"Everything is on the house," said Clara. Now there were general cheers from the crowd. Slowly, the bemused customers began to file out, many still carrying their drinks, or plates of half eaten food. When the last person had gone, Clara locked the door, and flipped the sign around to 'Closed'. The two women hurried into the main console room, and closed the door.
Clara yanked up a floor panel near the console, and jumped down into the gap. "I think I can insert this. Pass me that tool kit, Bill."
Bill watched Clara work. There was one thing nagging at her. "Why did the Doctor leave without saying goodbye? Why didn't she take us with her?"
"You know the Doctor," replied Clara. "Hates goodbyes. And anyway – she gave us this valve, didn't she? She knows we have a Tardis of our own. Knows we're not going to stay here."
"But-"
"She's probably got places to be. But it's a big universe, isn't it? Maybe we'll bump into her again out there."
Bill smiled, and stuck her hands in her pockets. "Yeah. I reckon we might."
"And now," said Clara, "I've just about got it…"
There was an audible click as the valve locked into place, and a split second later, the console hummed into life, its buttons and levers illuminated.
"You've done it!" exclaimed Bill, reaching down with her hand to pull Clara up.
Clara emerged, looking triumphant. She maneuvered the panel back into place, then turned to the console, setting coordinates.
"Where are we going?" asked Bill, feeling the first heady rush of excitement. She suspected, travelling with Clara, it would not be the last.
"First stop, Kreipp," said Clara. She nodded at the car carrier, which still contained the Chirophorta. "Need to get this one back home."
"And then?"
Clara smiled. "Anywhere we like." She pulled a lever. The time rotor roared into motion; the sweet, steady rising and falling was balm to Bill's eyes.
"Anywhere we like," Bill repeated. Her smile felt like it stretched from ear to ear, as the diner-Tardis dematerialized from the Bristol street. The universe was waiting for her and Clara, full of promise and adventure.