Chapter 5
"To the lady's place first," the Doctor said to the taxi driver and after giving him her address Clara leaned back into the seat and breathed in deeply.
It was close to midnight already and she knew she would be tired the next morning, but certainly without regrets. They had stayed at the restaurant until closing time, just talking and drinking wine and Clara had once more become aware that her feelings for her former professor had never really gone away. There was something about the Doctor that simply drew her in. He made her laugh simply by being himself and she felt comfortable around him to the point that she found it impossible to lie about anything, even Danny. She had lied to her friends and family about her excitement over the proposal, but not the Doctor. He just saw right through her.
Clara turned her head and watched the Doctor in the light of the passing street lamps for a moment, hating the space that was left between them. Even though it was wrong, even though she was engaged and loved Danny, even though the Doctor would never feel the same about her, a part of her wanted to get closer, to touch him if only for a moment. Maybe run her hands through that silver hair or feel his chest beneath her palm.
"Are you feeling better?" the Doctor suddenly asked, tearing Clara straight out of her dreams.
"Better?" she asked back, a little baffled. Clara had no idea what he was referring to.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "You seemed pretty beaten up about your students."
Yes. Yes, she had. Right before the matter had completely slipped her mind in his presence. "Oh, yeah," Clara replied and put on a smile, "Yeah. Thanks for cheering me up."
A broad grin spread over the Doctor's face when he looked at her. "We should do that again some time."
Clara giggled in reply. "Only if you learn how to properly handle chopsticks. Otherwise I'll insist on Italian," she said and nudged him softly. The Doctor flinched a little under her touch, but when he came to look at her again there was something in his gaze. . . something. . .
Then the taxi stopped and Clara realized to her own dismay that they had arrived at her apartment complex. She was tired and yet she didn't really want this evening to end. After so many years the Doctor was finally back and she had to resist the urge to ask him to come upstairs with her for another cup of tea to continue their earlier debate. Yet at the same time Clara was fully aware of just how bad that idea was. The wine was still coursing through her head a little too much and once she was alone with him she might actually do something she would regret. Clara wasn't really keen on embarrassing herself in front of the Doctor and embarrassing it would be if she suddenly decided to make a pass at him.
"Well, thanks for the lovely evening," Clara said instead.
The Doctor smiled. "Thanks for the lovely company. Even though you're wrong about Yeats."
"We'll establish that later," she determined and opened the car door to get out, "I'll see you tomorrow."
When Clara unlocked the door to her flat she suddenly felt the phone in her pocket vibrate again, reminding her of one other thing that had slipped her mind completely.
"Oh shit," she mumbled and instantly started searching for the device. She had forgotten about Danny. She had forgotten to text him. He would be furious.
"I am the worst girlfriend ever and I do not deserve a man like you," she blurted out once she had answered the call, "I am so sorry. I should have sent a text."
"Right," Danny replied after a moment, "All of that is basically right."
"Sorry," Clara apologized again, "I went out for dinner with my new colleagues. I meant to call after but I hadn't expected we'd stay at the restaurant until closing. I'm sorry."
When Danny didn't reply at first Clara sank down on her sofa, waiting for him to respond, waiting to see how mad he really was. And he took a long, long moment.
"I just wanted to ask how your first day went, that's all," he said eventually.
"It went well," Clara lied. She would tell Danny the whole story the next time she saw him, but right now she really didn't feel like going over the entire day once more. She had discussed it with the Doctor already, all of it. "Students are different. Colleagues are great. It's all fine."
She heard Danny sigh on the other end of the line. "That's good to hear. I was starting to get worried when I didn't hear from you."
"No need. And I really am sorry about not calling. I swear, next weekend, when we go out, it'll be on me and I'll tell you everything in detail."
"Fine," he uttered after a moment, "You've had a busy day. That's alright."
"You are the best and I don't deserve you," Clara said, smiling to herself. She really didn't. Danny was sweet and loving and the best boyfriend she had ever had and some days she felt really bad for treating him so poorly at times. She loved him, but Danny had never been her priority in life. Maybe she should change that.
"Are you wearing the ring?" he suddenly asked her.
Clara stared down at her empty hand and instantly felt another pang of guilt. Tomorrow she would try, really try.
"Yeah, of course," Clara lied, her voice sounding slightly higher than usual, "It's right here on my finger where it belongs."
"Curious," Danny said, sounding a little harsh, "Cause I found it in my bathroom yesterday after you've had a shower."
Clara inhaled sharply, for a moment not knowing what to say to him after she had so obviously been caught. Her first instinct was to apologize once more, but she knew just how hollow that would sound after her blatant lie.
"We'll talk about it next weekend," Danny said a short moment later, "Good night, Clara."
"Good n-" Clara tried to say but Danny had already hung up.
With a heavy heart she rose to her feet and trudged off into the bathroom. There was nothing she could do from here, so Clara would just have to make an extra effort the following weekend.
As soon as the Doctor stepped into the house his feet got caught in something on the floor. He tried his best to regain his balance, to find something to hold on to, but failed, and seconds later the Doctor tumbled towards the floor and landed with a loud thud.
"Ow," he growled and reached down to find the source of his little accident.
"Serves you right!" Missy's voice came from the living room just when his hands had found the offending item – a pair of his own underpants. Of course. Missy had left them there in an attempt at revenge after finding them on the bathroom floor.
With a sigh he grabbed the pants and scrambled back to his feet, his knee hurting as he made his way into the living room.
"Not nice," he grumbled when he fell down on the sofa next to Missy, but soon he became aware that she was watching him intently, her eyebrows raised.
"You're home late," she commented.
The Doctor couldn't help it. A smile spread over his face as soon as he thought about the evening, that wonderful evening he had spent with Clara, having dinner with her, laughing, talking about literature. The butterflies in his stomach were still going haywire.
"I love her," he said, still grinning. He was probably looking like an idiot right now, but that didn't matter. He had spent the entire evening with Clara. At first it hadn't gone so well at all, but after she had gotten over the disaster of her first day and after he had realized that she was deliberately ignoring her boyfriend, the mood had shifted. They had talked and talked, just like in the old days, and Clara had turned out to be even smarter and wittier than he had remembered her.
"Are you drunk?" Missy frowned at him.
"No, just crazy about Clara," he sighed happily and sank deeper into the cushions, "Okay, maybe a little drunk from the wine. We had dinner. It was great."
"Didn't you say she was engaged?" his friend enquired curiously.
"She is, but that won't last. He's not the one for her," the Doctor said dreamily and turned to look at Missy, "You'll see."
Still she didn't seem convinced, but whatever Missy was thinking, the Doctor interrupted her before she could speak up.
"Don't say it," he told her, slowing rising back to his feet, "Let me be happy for a moment."
And happy he was. The Doctor felt oddly light as he made his way to the guest bedroom, whistling a little melody on his way. A whole evening with Clara Oswald. The universe was on his side this time, he was sure of it.
"You forgot your pants," Missy called after him, but the Doctor didn't care. Not right now. He would throw them in the laundry basket the next morning.