Clara popped the lid off of her overly large Costa cappuccino, blowing on it in hopes that it would cool down to a temperature that was slightly cooler than molten lava. Why did all of these chains make scalding coffee? The Doctor, looking surly as ever, though slightly ridiculous in his faded band t-shirt and hoodie underneath his Crombie coat, was eyeing his steaming cup of black coffee suspiciously.
"Platform 9, just announced on the board," he said while pointing at the departure boards, grabbing his bag from the ground.
Clara fumbled with the lid, spilling a bit as she finally managed to get it back on. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and followed The Doctor, who'd decided to make his way to the train without waiting to see if she was in fact following behind him.
Could always turn back now, she thought to herself.
She managed to catch up to him whilst waiting in the queue to board their carriage. Which was fortunate as he did actually offer to hold her coffee while she lugged her bag onto the train, quickly stowing it on the luggage rack.
"Oh, I'm facing the wrong way," she said, realising her seat for the journey was backwards.
The Doctor snatched her ticket from her hand, replacing it with his own. She smiled at him and took his seat happily. His face, of course, was reactionless.
"So. Bring any games?" Clara asked.
The Doctor looked confused. "Games?"
"Yeah. To pass the time? Four hours to Glasgow. Don't tell me you were planning on doing something boring like reading."
He pulled a book from his inner coat pocket.
"Oh," was all Clara could muster. She hadn't thought to bring anything along, but there was an outlet at the seat so if she wanted she could just play games on her mobile the entire ride up to Glasgow.
He pulled out a pack of playing cards and started to shuffle them. "Gin?"
"Do you usually travel with a pack of cards in your coat pocket?" She asked, taking cards as he handed them to her.
He shook his head. "Not usually. But you seemed the sort that needed entertaining. Glad I was prepared."
She wasn't entirely sure if she should be offended by the accusation that she needed preoccupation, but considering he had in fact thought about making her trip a little more bearable, she decided to hold the offense for the moment. He'd very likely do something else to offend her soon.
Hours later (Clara had ultimately let The Doctor escape back to his book as she escaped to the bar carriage and grabbed a snack), they'd arrived at Glasgow Central. Clara followed The Doctor towards the front of the station, where an older woman with ginger hair waved happily at the two of them.
"Oi Doctor!" the woman yelled, running towards them and giving The Doctor a strong hug. "You've gotten so old!"
The Doctor turned to Clara and shrugged. "Clara, meet Donna."
"You're the special flatmate then?" Donna said, giving her a look over. Then, in a judging tone: "Doctor."
"Donna," The Doctor sighed. "Family business. Nothing untowards."
"All right, all right furball." Donna pointed over her shoulder. "Car park's just around the corner. Come on, then!"
Nearly an hour later, the car pulled up to a small cottage at the end of an unpaved road. "Home sweet home," Donna announced.
Clara had thought they'd be staying within Glasgow, so the fact that they were now far into the wilderness was a surprise to her. She supposed it would be nice to have some time away from a city, but she was slightly dismayed to find that her mobile had no service. She should've texted Danny before they'd left Glasgow to let him know she'd made it safely. Then felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that she'd lied to him and said she was heading back home to Blackpool for the long weekend.
"Shaun!" Donna yelled, opening the boot so The Doctor and Clara could grab their luggage. A man came out of the cottage and shook Clara and The Doctor's hands quickly before helping Donna out with the additional bags, which looked to be full of groceries.
As they entered the cottage, Clara noticed that it was small, but comfortably decorated. There was a pleasant feeling of warmth to it. Inviting and friendly, if a building could feel that way.
"Simple spell," Donna explained to Clara. "Makes a place feel homely when someone's nervous. Figured you might need it, love."
"Sorry, a spell?" Clara asked.
Donna put the bags down on the counter, putting the contents away in the cupboards. "Doctor, did you not tell her anything?"
The Doctor shrugged. "Not my business to tell other people those sorts of things."
Stepping back into the living room, Donna encouraged Clara to take a seat. "I don't like keeping secrets from people, unlike some I may know. So. I do spells."
Clara shook her head. "Like...a witch?"
Donna made a sharp noise of disagreement. "Witch has so many awful connotations."
"Not all of them undeserved," Shaun joked, reappearing at the bottom of the stairs.
"Oi, that's enough from the peanut gallery."
Shaun stopped to give Donna a slight squeeze on the shoulder before heading to the kitchen to finish putting away the groceries.
"So, Doctor," Clara said, looking over at him. "Am I your only human friend?"
"I'm human," Shaun said.
"Oh, Clara." The Doctor gave her a worrying look. Clara wasn't certain she liked it.
Sensing the tension, Donna stood up suddenly. "OK, you two. Let me show you your rooms and you can get settled. Figured since you were back in town I'd invite a few folks round for dinner, Doctor."
"Please don't tell me you're throwing a party. You know I'm on the record against parties," The Doctor groaned, following Donna up the staircase.
"Not a party, Doctor. Just a few friends."
Clara's room ("First door on the right") was small but functional. A single bed. A few framed pictures on the wall. A small set of drawers. Not a room someone would want to spend an entire day in, but nice enough for sleeping.
"Make yourself at home, feel free to come downstairs whenever you're ready," Donna said from the threshold. "Anything you need, give us a shout."
Clara heard The Doctor settle into the room next to hers, along with Donna's footsteps heading down the stairs. She decided she'd had enough of him withholding information from her and needed to confront him about it. She went into the hallway and sharply knocked on his door before entering, not waiting for him to invite her in.
"Clara-"
"All right, Doctor. I think I've been a very good sport about all of this but enough is enough. We're going to sit here and you're going to tell me absolutely everything."
He opened his mouth to argue, then thinking better of it, patted the bed for her to sit down next to him. "What do you want to know?"
"First of all: what are you?" she asked, looking at him earnestly.
He sighed. "I thought you'd be able to figure it out without me having to give it a name. To simplify an incredibly complex concept: I'm a shapeshifter."
A few weeks ago, before the night in the flat where he'd showed her the arrow and the lounge chair stain, before she'd seen his layers, this would've upset her. But considering she was now in a cottage in the middle of Scottish wilderness with her strange old friend, along with a witch and her partner, she was unsure whether there was anything that could surprise her anymore.
"And I suppose your next question is: 'what am I'?" The Doctor asked.
"But you just told me." Then it dawned on her that he had meant her. "What do you mean, 'what am I'? I'm just a regular person."
"Clara Oswald, have you never considered why you found a record shop you'd never heard of in the heart of Shoreditch? Have you never wondered why you've always found things other people had sworn they'd hidden away? You have a gift for finding things that are hidden because you're not the same as everyone else."
Clara shivered. "All right. What am I?"
"Humans, overly simplistic as they are, have historically called you Fae," he said.
"But, why do I look human?" she asked. "Shouldn't I be very tiny and have wings?"
He laughed. "You are quite small."
Clara made a noise of disagreement.
"What humans think of us and how we actually appear are two very different things. Humans don't have the ability to comprehend our true forms. It's why Danny doesn't remember the night of the arrow even though he was there." The Doctor rubbed his side absentmindedly. Clara wondered if the wound still bothered him.
"So you didn't do anything to him?"
The Doctor shook his head slightly. "Didn't have to. And I don't like tampering with the pudding brains. It's not a good power to have over another creature."
"Powers. Could I change? Like you?" She asked, thrilled by the sudden idea of having some sort of magical abilities, as ridiculous as her logical brain warned her that it was.
He considered for a moment. "I don't know much about what you can and can't do. Because you seem to have been raised by humans, you don't have the knowledge you need to be able to utilize your power properly. It's part of why I brought you up here with me. Thought being around others like us could coax some of your abilities out of you."
Something about that admission didn't sit quite right with her. "Are you using me for something, Doctor?"
"Don't be daft," he scoffed. "You wanted to know more. I can never say no to someone who wants to travel beyond the world they know."
She considered his answer for a second. "What were all the faces I saw?" she asked finally. "Do you change your face?"
"Yes. But it's more complicated. Once I've chosen a new face, I can't go back to an old one," he said. "And before you ask-I don't get to choose the exact face. It just...happens."
She gestured towards him. "So how long have you had this face?"
"Not very long, in a relative sense. Time moves very differently for my people."
"So there are others like you?"
He looked away, picking his book from the train up. Then, very quietly: "I'd like to finish up this chapter. See you downstairs for dinner?"
Standing up, she left The Doctor, who had swung his legs onto the bed and leaned back against the wall. She felt a bit guilty for asking him what she now realised were very personal questions. But there was an entire world she was on the cusp of discovering and she had so many more questions now.
From downstairs, Clara heard knocking at the door. A man's voice as the door creaked open.
"Hey there, Red," said the man's voice, distinctly American. "Looking gorgeous as ever."
"So says you. Must be nice to never age," came Donna's voice.
"Nice to see you too. You gonna invite me in or do I have to hit on your husband instead?"
"Yeah, yeah. Come on in, then."
Clara, curious, went downstairs to see who this new guest was. The man, dressed in a long military-style overcoat, turned around to face her. He smiled broadly. Clara figured there was something more to him, but it was hard to ignore the charm oozing from him. His Disney prince features definitely added to the appeal.
"Now who is this lovely young woman," he asked.
"Clara," she replied. "Clara Oswald."
"Clara. A pleasure." The man leaned in to give her a kiss on each cheek as a hello, though Clara noted how cold his lips were against her skin. "Captain Jack Harkness."