A/N: This is set under the premise that Missy did go back to the Vault after the Doctor finds her inside his TARDIS.

"And in the end, I will seek you out amongst the stars." – David Jones.

"What's up with the space suit?"

The Doctor looked down at himself as he made his way inside, "I had to make a quick stop in Mars – there isn't oxygen in mars. I forgot to change."

She offered him a nod, watching him wasting his time by overthinking which seat he should take, "At least it's better than those hideous plaid trousers of yours."

He frowned, unsurprisingly choosing the seat right in front of her, from the opposite side of the counter, "How did you know about those?"

Her jaw dropped and for a brief moment, she seemed out of words. "You must have worn them one of the previous time you've stopped by."

He hummed in acknowledge, deciding it was best just to drop the matter. He hadn't worn those trousers ever since he lost everything. "I'm sorry for storming out the last time I was here," he stated, guiltily, "I was hit with a bunch of… emotions I couldn't quite control."

"Understandable," she cleared her throat. She hadn't expected any other reaction from him. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah," he grunted, taking slow breaths, "I was acquainted with someone called Clara once. She was really special to be, so I was just taken aback."

"I'm sorry," she uttered, but he couldn't read the expression on her face, neither comprehend what she was sorry about.

He carried on, nonetheless. "She was special and yet I have no idea what she's like," he sighed, "I forgot everything about her. I used to think I'd absolutely know her if I saw her again, but I'm pretty sure now that I am wrong."

She leaned on her elbows, "And why is that?"

"Because I'm missing what's staring at me right in the face," he declared, unable to end the eye contact, "I'm missing the obvious. I'm missing the barista who has been somehow following me across the stars, making sure I stay alive just to carry on telling my stories. Like a guarding angel."

She blushed, her eyes becoming twice wider. She remained silent.

"It took me a while, but I'm finally putting the dots together," he leaned closer to her, taking her cold hand onto his, "And it's all coming back to you. So I think it's time we all drop our façades and come true with one another," he was quiet for a few seconds, "Are you my Clara?"

"I…" her words were stuck in her vocal cord, and he felt almost bad for the way he had aborted her. He just had to know, he was tired of remaining in oblivion. "I don't think I'm entitled to answer that?"

"Why not?!" he angrily spat, completely ending all the links they had formed between them, "You're the one who can answer me that."

Her eyes traveled through all of the décor of her diner before finally landing back on him, "I can't answer you until you learn the answer yourself."

He shook his head. "I can't answer myself, not without my memories."

She granted him a closed smile, "Then it's time you go looking for them."

"How?" he sounded despaired, lost even. "Please, Clara, tell me how."

She looked just as guilty for not knowing a proper answer. "I… I don't know how. I've never lost my memories."

He buried his head on his hands, rubbing his eyes against them. "Help me find my memories. I'm begging you, Clara."

His request was so sincere she couldn't just deny it. "I'll help you, Doctor, of course I will."

His face brightened up at her saying, resembling a child when offered candy. "Really? You promise?"

Clara could only chuckle at him, "Yes. I promise."

The Doctor was so ecstatic at her consent he jumped onto the table to land a peck on her forehead. He thought she would mind his gesture, instead she just seemed delighted. "Thank you. It's not every day I find people willing to help me like this."

"Lies," she was quick to interfere, "Your friends are always there willing to help you. You're just too stubborn to ask them for help."

He made a face, desire to go against her words, but knowing they were completely true. "You're my friend. I'm asking you for help. What does that say about me?"

She gave him a daring look, "Character development, I'd say."

He was sure she was being sarcastic, but decided just to let her tone pass. "I have one question, and I'd like you to be honest with me. At least this time."

Clara seemed a little hesitant at first, but eventually, she agreed, "Okay, what is it?"

The Doctor simply stared at her for a long time, just trying to find the right words. "Was it you? All those other girls that I ran into, across all time, all dimensions. Were they you?"

She studied each and every one of his traits before finally saying something, "What do you think?"

He bit his lower lip, thinking. "I… I don't think it could have been anyone rather than you."

She shrugged her shoulders up and down, "Then you have your answer."

He nodded, still unable to let go of the matter. "Why, though? Why did you follow me around? How did you follow me around?"

She seemed so pleased at the idea that, for once, he didn't have the answers. She did. "I still have a couple of secrets hidden underneath my sleeve, you know."

His face remained blank. "That doesn't really answer my questions."

Clara let out a deep breath she didn't know she was holding, "I followed you around because someone had to keep you save, unharmed. Yes, I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, but that doesn't mean you don't need friends. Yes, I also know you've got your friends, but having someone to whom you're completely oblivious, just to do a simple thing as talk, isn't a bad thing. I was just there for you. That's already good reason enough."

He listened carefully to her words. "Why me? Out of all the lost and wandering souls in the universe, why me?"

"Oh, you know why," she simply let out, teasing him with her silly smile, "You're just not ready to come to terms with it yet."

Once again, he grabbed her by the wrists, but with the only intention of pulling her closer. For a moment, he just held it inside his fingers. "Why are your hands always so cold?"

Clara looked down at their jointed limbs. She was uncertain whether just to carry on with her lies or admit him the truth. "I… Fate?"

He frowned, unsure of what she meant. He tightened his grip around her pulse, not meaning to cause her harm, just intending to feel her. What he didn't feel, however, only made him even more lost. "Why… Why don't you have a heartbeat?"

She tried to pull away, but he didn't let him. Her voice was more distant than ever, "You tell me."

The Doctor traded looks between her face and her arms several times, before finally admitting, "I think you are my Clara."