Their Wednesday Clara had so longed for was somewhat tainted by the questions that hung between them. When she had breezed down the stairs and demanded their leave the Doctor had taken her to some cheese place but Clara had had no appetite much to the Doctor's dismay.

"Clara" he had told her. "Clara, people travel from all around the universe to eat this, it recently won an award for best food product since the year 2010, when I obviously of course invented fish fingers and custard. Considering we're in the year 56,099 that's pretty impressive Clara! People travel their whole lives to eat this Clara and you, you think 'it needs ketchup'?!"

She had just stared and him, offering only a sad smile.

That's when he had stopped eating out down his grilled cheese and taken her hands in his and whispered to her
"What's wrong my impossible girl?"

For a second she had almost crumbed almost leaned into his arms and told him the petty truth, that she was jealous of a girl who's been dead for nearly 55,000 years. A girl who he visited, and did more than just the usual hugging and face touching with to start. She wanted nothing than to tell him the truth and be done with it but her last shred of dignity kicked in and suddenly she was angry, angry at the Doctor for making her fall for him, angry at him for having some girlfriend and not telling her. That's why it slipped out.

That's why they were here now.

She had torn her eyes from him and looked down at her plate, still full, and muttered.
"Why don't you take your girlfriend here?."

They had journeyed back to the TARDIS in silence and he had immediately busied himself tinkering with the console but as the words left Clara's lips he had snapped his head around and met her eyes once more, trying not to get lost in the deep pools of her eyes.
"My what?" He felt his face redden and silently cursed the well, awkwardness, of this regeneration. Nine would have played this cool.
He watched as the swirling chocolate pools of her eyes darkened.
"Don't mess me around Doctor, I know you have some secret girlfriend who you rush off to the second you get rid of me."
"Clara I-" He fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable with the intensity of her presence.
"You what Doctor?" She set her eyes on him, challenging him to deny it and he was suddenly reminded of Angie when she had questioned him about Clara this morning, well, a morning 54,086 years ago.

He had had to make a choice like this once before. A choice where no matter what his decision was he would cause hurt, and pain, a choice where he had really no choice at all.
That's why he chose to step away. To let Clara believe what she thought was the truth. He'd made a selfish decision once before and let people get hurt and it had haunted him for 400 years. He would not let Clara get thrown into a world he didn't even understand.
"I'm so sorry Clara"
It was all the confirmation she needed, that last slither of hope clinging on to the Doctor burned and suddenly she didn't feel angry anymore, she just felt deflated.
"Doctor I think I'd like to go home"
He did bother to try reason they'd only been out for 3 hours, it wasn't worth it, he saw the look on her face and it killed him to know it was his fault. So wrapped up in his guilt was he, he barely noticed the sound of the engines, barely registered the fact they were being thrown around the TARDIS it was only as he grabbed the rail and saw the look of confusion and terror on Clara's face he realised he hadn't flown the TARDIS but yet they had moved.

Gingerly he made his way to the doors followed by Clara, even in her remorse she still felt safer by the Doctor's side.
He slowly placed his hand on the door, a sickening feeling churning in his gut, suddenly quite unable to perform even the smallest task of opening the door.

So Clara did it for him.

They were in London, that was clear as daylight.
London has it's own atmosphere of sorts and Clara and the Doctor immediately sensed it.

That wasn't why the Doctor froze, a hand still on the door and it wasn't why Clara punctured their silence with a sharp intake of breath as terror struck her.

It wasn't just that they were in London as such.

It was just that this London was unmistakably...

Victorian.