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Chapter 6

When Clara stepped inside her office the following day, hoping for a little bit of warmth, she was utterly disappointed. Temperatures had dropped over night, plunging below zero for the first time this year, and right now it felt more like the middle of January than October. It was definitely too cold for her taste.

She immediately approached the radiator, only to realize that it was cold as well, which probably explained the indoor temperature. She cursed loudly.

"That won't do any good."

Clara shot around to see that the Doctor had appeared in the door way, wrapped in a warm jumper and hoodie, both of which seemed absolutely cosy. He granted her an apologetic smile.

"Mr Armitage stopped by earlier. They're working on fixing the heating," he explained, "I guess they didn't really expect it to get so cold so soon."

"I don't think anyone did," she sighed and just the thought of taking her coat off made her shiver.

Suddenly the Doctor waved at her to follow him and vanished inside his office, Clara carefully trailing after him. She watched him bend over his couch and a few moments later the Doctor produced another jumper from behind it.

Clara raised her eyebrows. "Are you stacking your clothes here?" she asked curiously, "I'm starting to get the feeling you actually live in your office."

When the Doctor turned around he glared at her. "I don't live in my office," he replied, holding the jumper in her direction, "Here, that's my warmest one. You can't walk around in your coat all day."

"Does that have holes?" Clara attempted to ask but was silence when the Doctor simply threw the jumper at her. She caught it at the last moment. "Thanks," she muttered and started opening the buttons of her coat despite the temperature.

Even though Clara hated to admit it, the jumper was incredibly warm and comfortably oversized over her dress and above all she loved the smell that clung to it, that wonderful smell of a man's aftershave. The Doctor had great taste.

"I'm gonna grab a cup of tea. Do you want one?" she asked him, burying her hands in the long sleeves.

"Tea sounds great," the Doctor replied. And then he smiled at her, nodding in her direction. "It suits you."

"Thanks," Clara beamed at him, "In that case I guess I'll keep it."

Grinning to herself, Clara made her way into the staff kitchen and switched on the kettle before she brought her nose back to the fabric of the jumper she was wearing and sighed. She really liked that smell. Then suddenly Amy tore her out of her thoughts when she entered the kitchen, grumbling a good morning, followed by a rant about the cold that Clara couldn't help but agree to.

Then, five minutes later and armed with two steaming mugs, Clara walked back into the Doctor's office, only to find it a lot less quiet than it had been before. The Doctor was standing in front of his record player and a song from the 70s was blasting through the speakers.

"What's going on?" Clara asked, laughing, "Are we having a party?"

The Doctor twirled around, grinning broadly. "Yes," he replied and made a few moves that might have been dancing, or an attempt to pray to the old Rain God, "A warm-up party."

He danced around his desk and Clara was torn between whipping out her phone to film it and tell him to stop. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?" Clara giggled.

"Yes," the Doctor said enthusiastically, "But at least I'm not cold."

He had a point, Clara couldn't deny that, but when he held out his hand to her, Clara hesitated. If a student walked in on them dancing to New York Groove, she would have to find a new university to teach at because they would never take her seriously. But then a wall of cold air blew in her direction, making her shiver, and Clara made a decision.

Slowly she started to move to the rhythm, trying not to think about how silly they looked, dancing in his office, and the Doctor smiled broadly at her. He didn't care that he was making a fool out of himself in front of her and it did help with the cold, so Clara decided to put in a bit of an effort and just go along with it.

She reached for the Doctor's hand and he twirled her around, making her laugh in the process while he invented one silly move after the other.

"You are the worst dancer I've ever met," Clara raised her voice over the music, still laughing and tapping her feet to the rhythm.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "You're not exactly Ginger Rogers either."

Clara giggled, the situation making her insanely happy for some reason. They were in his office, at 7.40 in the morning, dancing to a silly 70s song and it made her happy. She spun around once more, smiling to herself, when suddenly Clara spotted a figure in the door way and came to an abrupt halt.

"Danny," Clara blurted out right as the song ended, "What are you doing here?"

He just stood there for a moment, his eyes wandering from Clara to the Doctor and then back to her, the confusion written all over his face and Clara couldn't exactly blame him. God knows how silly they must have looked.

"I stopped by to give you your ring back," he said after a moment, "What's going on here? What are you wearing?"

"The heating went out, so we were trying to stay warm. The Doctor lent me his jumper," Clara explained.

Danny's face turned into a deep frown. "The Doctor?"

"Yes," she put on a smile, "My former professor. The Doctor. Doctor, this is Danny Pink, my fiancé."

Once she had finished introducing them to each other Danny reluctantly stepped forward and extended his hand. The Doctor, on the other hand, seemed anything but keen to shake it for some reason, but still did after a moment of hesitation.

"The famous Doctor," Danny muttered, "Do you have a name, too?"

"No," he replied blatantly.

Clara couldn't help but notice the strange hostility between the two men and she didn't need a lot of imagination to guess what Danny was thinking. He remembered that night at the party a couple of years ago and she didn't have a single doubt that he would bring it up sooner rather than later.

"Let's go into my office," she suggested carefully and took Danny by the arm, leading him through the door and closed it behind the two of them.

"You didn't have to come all the way just to bring me the ring," Clara said once they were alone, "It's sweet, but I would have stopped by after work to pick it up."

Danny let his gaze wander around the room before he looked at her. "I wanted to see your new office," he explained, "And meet your colleagues. You haven't mentioned that the Doctor is back."

"He is," Clara admitted sheepishly, giving him a smile, "And, like I said, it's really sweet that you came."

"He's the professor you had a crush on?" Danny stared at her in disbelief.

Clara rolled her eyes at him. She had known he would bring it up. "Danny, please," she laughed, "It's been years since I said that and I was drunk when we played that stupid game and the party. And you laughed about my answer if I remember correctly."

She heard him sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, I did," he admitted and spread his arms with a smile while Clara approached him for a hug, "He's a little too old for you anyway."

"Mh-mh," she replied, closing her arms around him in a tight hug, "And now give me my ring back. And some glue."

"Glue?" Danny asked, chuckling.

"Yeah, so it doesn't come off again," she replied with a smile.

"Fine, glue it is," Danny released her from the embrace and reached into his pocket, pulling out a little box. A few moments later he placed the ring back on her finger. Clara could have sworn that there was something itchy about the piece of jewellery, like an old, knitted jumper.

"See you tonight?" he asked before he bent down and pecked her on the lips.

"Yes," Clara replied with a smile, "Tonight at your place."

Once Danny had left her office and Clara was sure that he wouldn't come back in, she pulled the ring off her finger and slipped it into her pocket. Tonight she would tell him. She would tell him that she hated it.