Author's note at the end of the chapter!
Alone.
She was alone again. Clara couldn't remember the last time John was home by the time she got there. Too long, she thought. Standing in the doorway of their two bedroom flat, she could see that all the lights were off, just as they have been every day for the past… who knows how long. She let out a resigned sigh and closed the door slowly behind her. After shrugging off her coat and hanging it, she turned on the lights and made way for the kitchen. She hadn't eaten since that morning and it was almost 9 pm. Starving as she was, Clara was too tired to fix anything more than two sandwiches and a cup of tea. Just as she was about to put the bread in the toaster and her stomach gave an unhappy rumble, she remembered John and how he was always famished when he would finally stumble through the door at stupidly late times in the night. Sometimes he didn't come home until the next day in the morning. He usually called Clara around midnight whenever he thought he'd be at the hospital until morning to tell her to go to sleep without him. The conversations always ended with 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you so much'. Whenever that happened, Clara told him that it was okay and to try and cat nap as often as he could. She could hear the smile in his voice whenever he said 'Of course, of course I'll try, Clara', but she knew he'd never done it. He was too involved and wanted to be alert in case anything happened at the hospital. She knew that he couldn't afford too much rest, but that didn't mean she also had to like it. And she made sure John knew that whenever she'd come home for lunch on the days she knew he was home and found him sprawled on the bed, shoes off but everything else on.
Sighing again – she had been doing a lot of it lately – she tossed the bread back into the bag and went for the fridge again. She was met with an almost empty fridge and frowned. No eggs, no vegetables, no almost nothing, she thought with a frown. There was some beef slices for sandwiches from Sainsbury's, some cheddar from Sainsbury's, milk, broccoli, tomatoes, canned corn and custard. Custard! Yes, I could work with that. Please please let there be fish fingers in the freezer. Frozen vegetables would be amazing too. Next time you'll want the moon, Clara. Checking the freezer she let her head drop in defeat . No fish fingers, no vegetables and definitely no moon. Thinking back, she realised that they haven't done proper groceries in ages. During the week they were too tired and busy and the weekends – when John didn't have to be at work – were spent lazily in bed and around the house, relishing in the time they had together.
Any other night she would have given up and texted John that the fridge is empty so he'll have to eat her improvisations. But that day was not a good one for Clara. Not a lot had gone well at the clinic and she just wasn't ready to have this day end with not a single thing gone right. She looked at the clock: 21:14. She grabbed her purse off the table and hurried out of the door, pulling her shoes and coat on in a hurry.
She was already feeling better by the time she got in her car. It felt good to be in control again. The last year had been a jumble of sleepless nights, stress and mayhem so even a little thing such as going grocery shopping on a Wednesday night – when the normal thing to do was to deal with the lack of food and wait for John – gave her a sense of security. She made a mental list of what she wanted to make and then put other essential things besides those. Being almost always pressured for time, she was done with her task in a little over half an hour. There hadn't been any waiting in line either, thankfully. Maybe I shouldn't have bought so much stuff, though, she thought while struggling with keeping everything in her hands on the way to her flat from the car. She wasn't a two-trip kind of person either.
Her heart caught in her throat when she noticed that there were lights on in their bedroom. A huge grin covered her face and she tried to sprint towards the door. Before she could drop the bags in front of the door so that she could open it, John had opened the door enthusiastically.
"Clara!" He exclaimed. "Hi, hello! I was wondering where you were. No bag, no shoes, no coat!" His worried tone was accompanied by a gleeful smile. She couldn't help but just stare at him. It'd been so long since she'd seen another expression on his face except for sleepy or stressed.
"Hi." She said, her heart swelling with happiness.
"Oh, dear. Let me help you with those, Clara." John said as he moved forward to grab all of the bags and carry them easily inside. She followed and closed the door after her for the second time that night, laughing to herself about the difference between them.
"What are you doing home, John? Don't get me wrong, I'm so happy to see you. I truly am. It's just suspicious?" Clara asked, fiddling with the ring on her hand nervously. Sometimes she forgot it even existed so she made sure to check it often.
"There hadn't been any urgent matters to take care of so I asked if I could go home. I'm still on call all night, but hopefully I won't be needed again." He replied. After setting the bags safely on the counters he went over to her and hugged her tightly. "I've missed you, Clara. It's been too long since we've spent a proper weekday night together. "
Clara threw her arms around his neck and hugged him back, hungry for the physical closeness they've been deprived of lately. They sighed in contentment and broke apart just a bit only to come close again, this time in a kiss. It wasn't passionate and it wasn't erotic by any means, but Clara felt her stomach doing summersaults at the feel of John's lips on hers. He tangled his hands in her hair and brought her even closer, deepening the kiss. They stayed like that for a while, lips clashing with each other when John broke the kiss.
She smiled up at him. "I've missed you terribly as well. Too long, indeed."
He kissed the top of her nose and went back to the counters and started taking everything out. "I would've asked why this impromptu grocery shopping trip but I was just checking the fridge when I heard the car drive up." He laughed.
Clara got closer and started unpacking another bag, putting everything in their appropriate places. "Just thought we'd have a proper meal for once."
"What did you have in mind?"
She looked at him grinning "Vegetables with fish fingers and custard".
John's head snapped in her direction and he clapped his hands in front of him. "Fish fingers and custard!" He said and placed a short kiss on Clara's lips. "Brilliant, Clara, brilliant! I've missed fish fingers and custard!"
After dinner was cooked and eaten, they sat on their couch and turned the telly on, more for background noise than anything. They were too caught up in each other, the conversation, slow kisses and gentle touches.
"I'm surprised you didn't rip all of her sprayed hair out!" John laughed.
"You know I would've. She was so infuriating. Her son was obviously in need of a trip to the hospital!" Clara said exasperated.
"It's good that you got it all sorted out in the end." He laughed, rubbing Clara's shoulders in the way he always had and which she loved.
"Yeah, thankfully." She turned to face him and put a hand on his thigh, tracing it lightly with her fingers. "Tell me about your day. Enough about my depressing one at work."
"Today's been really quiet, to be honest. Just a few emergencies." He replied, letting his head fall back on the couch.
"That's all? Nothing remotely interesting?" Clara pressed on.
John thought about it for a second before bringing his head back up and smiled deviously at Clara. Her face automatically broke into a smirk of her own. "I know that smirk! Something's happened and you're not telling me. Go on! Out with it." She playfully slapped his thigh.
"Remember when I told you the Doctor was going to Manchester?"
She scooted closer, expectantly. Every mention of the Doctor was bound to be followed by an interesting turn of events. Ever since they've moved to London and John started working as a registrar at Royal London Hospital – something both of them had been wishing for ever since it was announced to the public that the Doctor will start working there – it was inevitable that him and John crossed paths. As luck has it, the Doctor knew exactly who John was – "Ah! The young man with the bowtie!" he had exclaimed with an amused smile – and the two of them hit off right away. How could they not? The genius and the gifted, Clara thought the first time John had come home and told her all about his day with the Doctor. She had to admit she was the tiniest bit jealous.
"Yeah, I remember. World Congress of Neurosurgery, wasn't it?"
"Yes, and guess what!" He asked her excited, grabbing her hands in his.
"I don't know, John! Just tell me! Don't leave me hanging." Clara replied just as giddy, staring into his eyes.
"He asked me if I'd like to come, Clara! He said that he'd proposed it to the head of the Congress and he said yes!"
Clara threw her arms around his neck so hard he stumbled back on the couch. "That's amazing, John! I'm so happy for you! So, so happy!"
He hugged her back and rolled them off the couch, stumbling down with a loud thud. Despite their grunts of pain, they were quick to start laughing at each other.
Clara was the first to stop, only to look him in the eyes lovingly. She caressed his cheek gently. "You're going to be amazing. Just like you usually are."
He smiled at her warmly and put his hand over hers, keeping it in place on his cheek. "That's because I have Clara Oswald supporting me."
"Soon to be Clara Smith." She countered, sticking her tongue out to him.
He dove in and bit her tongue gently. She made an unhappy sound and put her tongue back in her mouth. "Clara Oswald-Smith." He corrected.
She flopped down on his chest suddenly, earning another painful grunt from him. "Still can't figure out why you'd want to be called Oswald-Smith. It's such a mouthful." She said, looking up to him.
John's face broke into a cheeky grin and he wiggled his eyebrows – in what he thought was a seductive way. "You know what else is a mouthful?" He asked her.
Clara flirted back. "I know a couple of things that are a mouthful."
"Enough chit-chatting, more snogging, Clara!" He said loudly, sticking his index finger between them like a little child.
She laughed whole-heartedly, got up and made a run for their bedroom. He was right behind her, clothes hastily scattered on the floor, giggles erupting from the inside. There were no calls that night.
The last time Clara had visited John at the hospital was when she'd gotten a desperate call from one of her patient's mother. She didn't make house calls but the woman was in such a distressed state she couldn't help it. When she saw what state their daughter was in, she couldn't get her head around the fact that they didn't phone the ambulance first.
This time Clara had come on much relaxed terms. She had her purse on a shoulder and a bag in her other hand which contained lunch for her fiancé. She didn't tell him she was coming, of course. She'd made that mistake in the past and he was quick to tell her to not go out of her way for him. After they spend that wonderful night together a week ago, she'd been missing John even more fiercely than before and she had finally worked up the perfect excuse to see him while working.
She made her way to the front desk and smiled at the young receptionist.
"Hello." Clara said.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. How can I help you?" The receptionist smiled back.
"I came to see Dr. John Smith. He's working in the Neurology department. Do you know his exact location at this moment?" she asked.
"Let me check for you. Just a minute."
"Alright, thank you." Clara smiled at the receptionist again and then fiddled with her ring while thinking about how John will react when he sees her and how he'd like to thank her for it. She bit her lip and giggled at the thought of her and John shagging in a hospital cupboard. Now that would be unprofessional.
"He's on a break right now, ma'am. Unfortunately I don't know where he usually goes in his free time." She told Clara with a shake of her head. Clara's shoulders slumped immediately.
"That's fine, thank you for a time. Have a nice day!" She said before turning away from the desk.
"You too, ma'am."
She walked aimlessly for a couple of minutes, deciding what to do. She could leave the lunch to someone that knew him in the department. She dismissed the idea quickly – she wanted to see John. Her best chance of finding him was to go to his department and hope he's there. She took a turn and went to the lift, tapping her foot impatiently while waiting for it to come down. When it finally did, she hadn't expected so many people to come out and unfortunately, she was right in front of the doors. She lost her balance and had to lean against the wall in order to not fall. She got on after everyone had left and pressed the button. Clara was looking at the clock when she heard someone clearing their throat next to her. She looked up and was surprised to find the Doctor looking down at her.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Oswald. " He said. Clara snapped out of the momentary daze she had found herself in and replied politely back, with a smile tugging at her lips.
"Good afternoon, Doctor."
The doors closed with a ding and she looked around the lift. They were the only ones inside. She turned her head back to the man besides her. "How are you?" She asked, hoping she wasn't too stiff. At that moment she envied the easy-going way John seemed to be talking with the Doctor whenever he'd mention him.
"Oh, I'm doing quite alright. Except for a nagging pain in my right knee that's been coming and going this past week." He replied honestly, turning his head to look at the door. "Yourself?"
"Good." She said fast - maybe a tad too fast - and she repeated herself, insulting the Doctor being the last thing on her mind. "I mean – Yeah, I've been good. Just coming to see John, bring him some lunch. The usual." She laughed nervously and mentally slapped herself for acting like a sixteen year old.
"John? Then why are you going up? John left ten minutes ago to get lunch in the coffee shop." The Doctor stated simply, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
The door opened and she followed the doctor out. Going back down after she'd come all the way up seemed pointless without knowing exactly where she was going. The Doctor waited for her to catch up to him and they walked slowly together.
"Does he usually go there? On his lunch break, I mean." She asked him.
"Not always, but once in a while. John does like spending too much time in here. More than he's needed for." The Doctor smiled but Clara knew it wasn't a condescending one. She could see that he thought John was a precious addition to their team. Clara's chest puffed with pride at that thought. She chose to not let it show.
"Do you know when he'll be back?"
He thought about it for a second. "Could be another ten minutes. I can't say for sure, I'm sorry."
"There's no need to apologise, really. Thank you for telling me." Clara told him with a small nod of her head.
"You're welcome." He replied.
They walked in an awkward silence and Clara tried to think of something to talk about. My mouth goes on and on when it doesn't need to but when I'm the one that wants it to talk, it suddenly closes shut, she thought annoyed. Before she could try and talk again, the Doctor stopped. Clara turned back to look at him.
"Would you like to come in? To wait for John." He began.
Clara looked unsure at their surroundings and asked "Come in…where?"
"In the doctors' lounge." He replied with an amused smile and opened a door on his left. "Luckily, there's no one sleeping at the moment."
Going inside and having a cup of tea with the Doctor – earl grey, she remembered – sounded a lot more appealing than going to get John only to maybe walk past each other. She clasped her hands in front of her and took a couple of steps forward. "Yeah, I'd love that. Thank you!" She told him, smiling.
The Doctor gestured her to a chair while he made for the cupboards. "What would you like, Ms. Oswald? There's Earl Grey, Lady Grey and black tea. Of course, there's also coffee if you'd rather have that."
"Lady Grey sounds great." Clara said, taking her coat and muffler off, draping both on the back of the chair. "Also, call me Clara, if you'd like."
The Doctor chuckled but didn't look at her. "Clara, then."
She nodded to herself and looked around the lounge. It wasn't anything special, no decorations around, pretty plain if you'd ask her. But the cots in the corner looked comfortable, as well as the chairs at the table and the couple of arm chairs were a pleasant spot of colour – a deep royal blue - in the otherwise white-grey room. " I've never been in here before. Haven't been in this hospital more than a couple of times, though." She found herself commenting.
"Don't worry, some doctors only come in here to nap when they've been on call for the last two days. " He replied, grabbing the electric kettle and poured water in two mugs.
"What about you, Doctor? Do you spend a lot of time here?" Clara turned her body towards him, watching as he stirred the tea bags before carefully covering them with a small plate each. Her eyes roamed over him, taking in his lean frame and curly white hair. She was curiously calm, standing in the same room with the Doctor as he made her tea. She thought back to the first time she'd met him, she was a ticking bomb, ready to burst with excitement and nerves. Now she just felt at ease. Maybe because John talked about him all the time, telling Clara about the Doctor's personal little quirks and small mistakes he mulled over as if they were the end of the world – she supposed a genius like him almost never made mistakes so they baffled him for a while – or the fact that he and John would have their tea the exact same way: three and a half teaspoons of sugar and a third of the cup whole milk. She never noticed until then, but she'd started regarding the Doctor with the same familiarity as John. Even if they had barely talked once ever since they'd moved.
"Any chance I get, I come here and make myself a nice cup of tea." He said, turning to look at her, arms crossing at his chest. "Helps me make it through the day."
Clara laughed at that. "I know what you mean. Whenever I'm at the clinic, I think I drink at least five cups a day. And that's when it's a good one."
"John did mention you're working at a clinic. Paediatric, right?" He asked, arching his bushy eyebrows just a little. Clara couldn't help but look at the movement. He had some impressive eyebrows.
"Yeah, finally managed to open it." She replied with a sense of pride. Clara was quite proud of themselves, thank you very much.
The Doctor turned back to the mugs and lifted the plates, putting them in the sink. "John never mentioned it was yours. Sugar, milk?"
Clara fumbled with her ring again. "Can't blame him. You already have your heads full of other things over here. Two teaspoons and two of milk."
"You'd be surprised to find that John mostly talks about you when we're on breaks together, then." He laughed as he turned to give her the mug. She smiled appreciatively and took a small sip.
"It's perfect. " She said.
He smiled at her, his expression wrinkles gathering around his eyes. "Why, thank you, Clara." He sipped from his mug as well.
They sat in silence, both of them absorbed in their own thoughts. Clara's mind drifted over John's sudden idea of opening her own clinic. He brought up the subject a few days after Clara's official end of her schooling. "I know it's crazy, but I think it'll suit you better than the hospital." He'd said. At the time, her ego suffered a big punch because she imagined he thought she wouldn't be able to take the pressure. "I don't know if you realise, John, but opening a clinic is highly expensive and complicated." She had crossed her arms over her chest, and looked at him incredulous. "Do you think I wouldn't be able to handle it? I'm supposed to start next week, you know."
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of water starting. The Doctor was washing his mug. "If you're finished, I can rinse yours out as well." He'd offered.
Clara looked down at her mug, not surprised to find it empty. "Oh no, Doctor. I couldn't." She started towards the sink but the Doctor grabbed the mug swiftly from her hands before giving her playful smile.
"It's just a mug, Clara." He laughed and she realised with a start that the Doctor had teased her.
"Yes, but it's my mug." She replied, her own smile spreading.
"Actually…" he started, squinting one eye in a way that made him look uncomfortable. "It's the hospital's mug. And if I'm not wrong, I'm part of the staff." He finished with a laugh.
Clara leaned against the counter, admitting defeat. "Next time, I'll wash my mug." She told him, pointing in his direction with her index finger. "No room for argument!" She said as soon as he wanted to say something back.
The Doctor shook his head and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. "Letting you wash your own mug doesn't seem like quite a fair price for your company."
Clara's heart skipped a beat and she could feel her eyes widen. Did he just- No. But it sounded like – NO, Clara. You're being utterly stupid. Of course that wasn't what you thought it was. She gave a nervous chuckle, hoping it didn't sound as strained as she thought it was.
She quickly turned the conversation around. "John told me you offered him a place at the Congress in Manchester. He was elated when he finally told me!" Clara said, her excitement at the prospect growing.
The Doctor took a seat in the chair across from her. "I did. I thought it was only fair he got to come. I'm sure he doesn't tell you a lot at home, Clara, but he's the most capable neurosurgeon I've seen in the last twenty years." He leaned back in his chair and brought his hands together in his lap.
"He talks about work, but he keeps a lot for himself. I can see he doesn't want to see me worrying – Sometimes…sometimes he comes home with this dejected look on his face. That's when I know he failed to save someone." She leaned back in her chair, just like the Doctor had and she exhaled a breath she didn't know was holding and then looked back up. "John's meant to do this. I don't mean neurosurgery especially, I mean medicine. And I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who's acknowledged that." She finished with a small smile.
The Doctor shifted in his seat. "Stay assured, I'm not the only one who's noticed. If everything goes well at this Congress, he will get a lot of exposure. Not just a gifted doctor in a hospital, anymore." He laughed again and scratched the side of his head briefly. "If you ask me, I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I've never been good at it. All this…spotlight thing."
It was Clara's turn to laugh. She leaned her elbows on her legs and said "I beg to differ. Yes, you might be slightly tense, but you act as if you're up those podiums all day, every day. " She threw her hands up in front of her and said confidently. "Seems to me like you've been made for the podium."
The door burst open and John came through the door just in time to hear Clara's last comment.
"Aha! That's what I keep telling him, Clara." John said loudly, rubbing his hands together. "He never listens, never! Keeps saying he's an old man who needs to stay cooped up in the hospital."
Clara laughed and then faked an offended look toward the Doctor. "Rubbish!"
"I know!" He whined – adorably, according to Clara – and walked towards them. "That's two against one, Doctor." He told the Doctor, straightening his bowtie with a smug grin on his face.
The Doctor raised his hands above his head in surrender. "Alright, alright. You got me, John. I'm a superstar."
John grinned at him and then bent down to give Clara a kiss on her forehead. "You were the last person I expected to see inside having a comfortable chat with the Doctor."
It was the Doctor's turn to feign indignation now. "Are you insinuating my company is anything less than absolutely brilliant?"
"Of course not! We all know you're amazing company…when you're not doing the whole 'brooding genius' thing!" John told him.
"And you do that mad scientist, hands rubbing thing!" The Doctor teased back.
"You actually do that!" laughed Clara brightly.
"Yes. Well." John started, scratching his chin. "I suppose I do – but not just like a mad scientist."
"And you're also walking as if you're in continuous amazement of your own limbs." Clara went on, a childish glint in her eyes.
The Doctor's laugh was hearty and entertained. "Oh, she got you there, John."
"Can we stop talking about the way I decide to control my limbs for a moment?"
"Oh, for sure. I believe that would be a very inappropriate topic to talk about right now." Replied the Doctor.
John flushed red and resorted to straightening his bowtie again. Clara and the Doctor exchanged glances and chuckled and John's embarrassment was growing. The moment ended when the Doctor got up from his chair.
"Well, my break's over. I'll be going to see if there was a disaster while I've been here, drinking tea and teasing my most reliable colleague. Together with his fiancé, no less." He addressed them.
Clara got up and took one of his hands in both of her. "It was a pleasure talking to you, Doctor. And contrary to popular belief – " She threw John an amused smile "- I think you're amazing company. Hopefully we'll get more occasions like this." She told him sincerely.
The Doctor put his other hand on top of her and shook them gently. "It was my pleasure, Clara." He said and let her hands drop and then turned to John to pat his shoulder in a friendly manner. " I'll see you when you're done here, John. Enjoy your lunch. Finally." The Doctor whispered the last word with a smirk and left the room.
"Thanks, Doctor!" He told him as he left the room. He turned to Clara and his expression was one of mild confusion. "How did he know I didn't – " But he stopped when he looked at Clara. His confusion was quickly replaced by embarrassment.
Clara had an idea about what happened. Resting her hand on her hip she looked at John disapprovingly, piercing him with a stare. She didn't even need to say anything because John's stomach started rumbling right then. He gave her a sheepish look.
"I kind of… didn't have lunch in my… lunch… break?" He squeaked laughing nervously.
Shaking her head and clacking her tongue, Clara retrieved the bag in which she brought John's lunch. "Luckily for you, I'm here to save the day."
John's face broke into a huge grin and he grabbed her by the waist with both hands. "You're always there to save the day, Clara Oswald!"
"Save you, more like it." She laughed and raised her head to kiss him.
John lowered his lips on her, happily accepting the attention. "I'm happy being saved by you, any day."
Hey everyone! This time I'm back with the fastest update I've ever had until now. *laughs* This chapter's 5k words instead of 7k, but I think I'd rather update more frequently than have more words. If you want it the other way around, let me know and I'll see what I can do!
Also, I have research for this chapter, regarding how medicine works in the UK (slightly different than in my home country), but if you notice I've done any mistakes, please let me know. I haven't been able to find anything regarding where doctors actually spend their time in the hospital, but I suspect they have their own lounge, where they can eat their meals and sleep when needed, right? If you know these things better, again, please let me know so I can fix this issue.
As a side note, in this chapter both John and Clara are 29. John's two years into specialist training as a Registrar and has a couple more to go. As for Clara, she's been a full fledge paediatrician for a year now, having completed her internship a year ago. Both of them started Undergraduate study at 19. I hope that makes sense!
Until next time, lovelies!