Chapter Seven
Clara spent the next weekend alone at home. She didn't admit to the Doctor that she'd spent the majority of the weekend rushing to do all the thing she needed too so she could return to her apartment long before the dark – though she had a sneaking suspicion he probably already knew. She wouldn't lie either that a few funny phone calls she received had gotten her a little nervous too – they were just hang-up calls when she answered but when you're alone and it's dark…
When the TARDIS landed in her sitting room again Clara had been in the middle of reading 'The Fault in our Stars' again, she continued to read it as she sat in the Doctors favourite leather chair in the control room.
The Doctor had a frown on his face, hands clasped together behind his back as he paced back and forth. She knew he was about to say something – he was puzzling in his mind and he was either about to say something, probably something simple that frustrated him but made perfect sense to 'pudding brains' or he was about to pounce onto those chalk boards of his and spend the next few hours scribbling things down.
"Emotions don't make sense!" he suddenly declared.
Clara sighed, knowing she was in for a strange conversation, she held her book lower so she could see the Doctor's face and stared at him with her own frown. "I think emotions make perfect sense – for example my current emotion is confused because I don't understand why you suddenly decided emotions don't make sense."
The Doctor cast her an irritated glance. "Emotions are fickle" he said in way of explanation "and confusing."
Clara raised her eyebrow at his admission of emotions confusing him. "What got you thinking about this? What emotions are confusing you now?"
He waved a hand in her direction "That book!"
Clara looked down at the book "What about my book?"
He stopped pacing to look at her with a confused frown. "The first time you read that book you cried! You complained for an hour about how sad the book was! Now you're reading it again? Why would you put yourself through that kind of sadness again and yet look happy about it?"
"Because I enjoy the book?" Clara tried to explain.
"You enjoy that the story makes you sad?"
She thought about it. "I guess in a way yes. Don't you have a book that makes you sad but you enjoy reading it anyway?"
He hesitated, thinking. "Yes I suppose, but it still makes no sense."
Clara smiled "I don't think emotions are supposed to make sense. People are always doing things than make them sad, falling in love with the wrong things or wrong person and such."
"Don't get me started on love, that is the worst emotion of all" the Doctor scoffed.
Clara, who'd stood to stretch, used her book to hit the Doctor on the head as he search the book shelf beside her for something. "I don't believe that for a second!" she said as he turned to give her an irritated look and swiftly dodge the next tap to his head she'd been aiming for. "Love is the best emotion!"
"Hardly. It causes all rational thought to leave – it is a ridiculous emotion."
Clara smiled, staring at the book in her hands she decided to quote "You" she replaced rather than 'I' "fall in love in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow as he looked at her over his shoulder.
"I think you don't really get a choice if you fall in love with someone." Clara shrugged, not looking at him and preferring to concentrate on her pounding heart. Why was her heart even pounding? She tried to school her body, almost sure that the Doctor could hear the organ beating in her chest. "Even if it's going to hurt you or them." She continued.
The Doctor considered her, then quoted back at her "Love is an untameable force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused." He realised Clara was frowning at him, confused. "Paulo Coelho." He elaborated.
"Isn't he the one that wrote 'The Alchemist'?" Clara asked getting off topic for a second as she remembered the name.
The Doctor nodded with a slight smile. "Yes that's the one. I think his description of love is accurate – for an undefinable emotion anyway."
Clara smiled too, hers sad. "You sound like you've never been in love Doctor."
He didn't look at her, but she could see the side of his face and saw his expression as deeply sad. "Of course I've been in love Clara, it's been two thousand years. I've fallen in and out like you take breathes. But the emotions of each regeneration feel mostly just like memories to me so it's hard to really define what love feels like for even me, because it feels different in every regeneration."
Clara supposed this made sense. She sat back down in his chair, relaxed for just a moment before he continued talking. "Have you ever been in love Clara?"
Clara stared at him. "Yeah, I remember in college I met a boy I thought I was in love with… he didn't turn out to be very nice… and-" -you. Clara's mouth slammed shut before the last word could escape her mouth, amazed that she had even almost said it before she even knew it was true. But it was true wasn't it? She'd broken the first rule, probably a long time ago. Don't fall I love with the Doctor. Too late.
"And…" the Doctor waited, trying to prompt her to finish but when she didn't, he took a guess and finished for her "And Danny boy?"
Clara frowned for a second, she'd forgotten who he could be referring to in her sudden realization that she loved the Doctor. "Danny?" she remembered the sweet teacher "No not Danny!" she rushed.
The Doctor frowned.
"I mean… I loved Danny but I wasn't in love with him…" Clara mumbled.
"So who was your 'and'?" the Doctor asked having looked back over his shoulder to study her as she sat in his chair. He didn't miss the way she fidgeted with her hands or a blush crept up her neck and flushed her cheeks.
She looked at him, her smile a little shaky and she smiled "You don't want to know Doctor – you wouldn't be interested."
The Doctor cast her a rueful smile. "If I didn't want to know I wouldn't have asked – but you're probably right that I would be interested. Probably some famous celebrity I've never heard of?"
Clara made an agreeing noise, hiding her troubled and embarrassed face behind her book again to try and pin point exactly when she had fallen in love with the Doctor…
Clara had promised to spend the weekend on the TARDIS – adventuring or not, the Doctor seemed to not mind her company, and when he seemed to be getting frustrated with his equations on the blackboards Clara left for her bedroom on the ship to do some marking and try forget the earlier revelation about her feelings.
She was in the middle of some rather questionable poetry essays when the mobile she normally forgot on the TARDIS buzzed. Thinking nothing of it she didn't immediately check, when she did and found a message from a blocked number she frowned, her frown deepened in concern at the message:
'Where did you go pretty brown haired girl?'
She sat back in her chair for a second. Was it worth replying to a prank text like that? She'd normally assume it was a wrong number and tell them so – but not everyone went to the effort of blocking their number, and what was the chances that it was meant for someone else with brown hair too? She dismissed the text, set to bury it at the back of her mind as she went back to marking the essays. It wasn't ten minutes later when the same number messaged her again:
'Answer me Clara'
A tendril of panic leapt into her heart, sending ice down her spine as fear caught her. Defiantly a message for her. Just as quickly as the fear, anger rose in Clara and against a better judgment telling her not to answer Clara texted back:
'Whoever this is, leave me alone.'
Of course a few minutes later they texted back, obviously angry with her reply:
'No. You are MINE.'
Clara sat in her chair holding the phone, anger slowly giving away to fear again as she bit her lip the marking on the desk in her room forgotten. She was about to think of something to reply with when the Doctor cleared his throat at the doorway of her room. She looked at him expectantly.
"Birth of a new star about to happen outside the TARDIS doors. Thought that might be something you're interested in."
Clara gave him the biggest smile she could muster right then "Of course, I'll be right there."
He gave a slight smile, turned to leave and paused to look over his shoulder at her. "Are you sure you're okay?"
In a heartbeat Clara made the split decision to lie. There was no point worrying the Doctor over nothing. "Yeah I'm fine." She smiled and stood to follow him to the control room – leaving her phone on the desk in her room.
The Doctor sat beside his petite companion, the pair of them watching the beauty that was a newly formed star as they hung their legs out of the TARDIS doors completely protected by her shields. Well they were supposed to be watching the star – the Doctor found his eyes drawn to Clara. She was doing it again, the impossible thing where her face showed too many emotions to be possible. Her eyes where sad, frightened even, but her mouth was smiling – confusing.
He shuffled, uncomfortable with the information he was about to give her. The movement drew Clara's attention of course.
"What's wrong?" she asked softly – something about deep space said she needed to be quiet. "You only shuffle like that when there's something wrong."
"I-"he took a deep breath "I have to go do something, without you, and I don't know how long I'll be gone."
Clara frowned beside him – though even her most angry frown couldn't rival his miniature one. "I understand there are some thing you need to do without me you know? Though I'm glad you decided to warn me there might be quite a time gap this time."
The Doctor glanced down at her, surprised. "Are you sure? With everything that's happened lately… and I know your still not feeling too safe…"
Clara's thoughts went back to the brief text conversation. "I'll be fine." She said with uncertainty in her voice – despite trying to keep it out. She decided to change conversation topic when the Doctor's full attention bared down on her at the tone of her voice, concern evident in his scowl. "What's so top secret that you can't bring me with you?"
"More like dangerous" the Doctor replied, his full attention was still on her. "I noticed a slight tear in the time vortex a few days ago – I thought it would repair itself like they usually do however it's just gotten bigger. I need to go repair it before time starts to rearrange itself – sometimes the odd beastie can come through the rip and it's not something a human time traveller can deal with. In fact it would just make you a tasty snack with all that time energy on you."
"Oh and what about you?" Clara nudged him playfully. "Are you about to bring up the 'my-species-is-better-than-your-species' argument again?"
The Doctor snorted, nudged her back and gave a slight smile. "Alright, not all humans are so bad." He said.
"Oh?"
"J.K Rowling was pretty great. Shakespeare too – and Charles Dickens." He teased.
Clara gave him a rueful smile and shoved him playfully. "Shows what it takes to impress you!" she laughed and continued sarcastically "Do I need to publish some fantastic novels before you'll admit I'm not a pudding brain because saving your life thousands of times apparently didn't work!"
The Doctor caught her arm when she shoved him playfully, holding her quite close he stared down at her. "Oh no" he said quietly "You defiantly caught my attention, impossible girl."
The Doctor dropped Clara off outside her building, in the middle of the day. Their goodbye was somewhat stretched – both knowing they would see each other again probably soon, yet neither wanted to actually leave the other in the first place knowing they didn't exactly know when they'd see each other. Eventually the TARDIS doors clicked shut and Clara watched the time machine fade away, the familiar sound of the engines wheezing and sending a light breeze over her still making her heart pound with hope.
Her elderly neighbour, Mrs Brown, didn't even notice the fading space ship and waved a greeting at Clara as she walked into the building – Mrs Browns little white terrier yapped at her heel until she bent down to pet him on the head twice.
"Morning Clara" Mrs Brown smiled.
"Morning Mrs Brown" Clara replied.
"You been out with that young man of yours all night?" Mrs Brown gave her a knowing smile.
Clara laughed a little "No, I don't have a young man at the moment Mrs Brown."
The older lady gave her a funny look. "What about that young one that comes knocking on your door?"
Clara hesitated at the buildings entrance. "What young man?"
"The big one, brown hair?" Mrs Brown was looking a little spooked now as Clara's expression remained confused. "He must come by every night love are your sure you don't know him?"
"I don't know any big blokes with brown hair…" Clara mumbled, said goodbye to her elderly neighbour and practically ran up the stairs to her floor. Before she came out of the stair well she looked up and down her corridor before she approached her won front door, key already in hand.
Nothing in her apartment looked out of place – maybe a bit more dusty than usual since the Doctor hadn't given her time to clean up before whisking her away on Monday morning. It took her a little while of cleaning before she noticed her answering machine was blinking full.
Clara hesitated before playing the messages, listening to them while she did the dishes. The first three where from her dad asking what she was going to be doing for Christmas that year – would it be at her apartment or his house? Eventually without her input the family decided it would be at Clara's again, despite last years naked Doctor incident. The fourth was odd and made Clara pause.
It was a computer input voice that much she knew. 'How-are-you-Clara?'
The second voicemail was from the same techno voice. 'Christmas-at-your-place-Clara. Will-you-invite-me?'
The third. 'Answer-me-Clara. NOW.'
Clara stopped the answering machine there getting soapy water all over the machine as she neglected to dry her hands first. She had that icy chill of fear going down her spine again, hair raised on the back of her neck as she stared at the answering machine with a growing nervous fear.