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Chapter 18

Clara was utterly lost in thought as she rinsed the cups that no one else had bothered to clean on Friday evening and she didn't even realized that Amy had entered the staff kitchen. She only became aware of her presence when Amy leaned over the sink and pinned a hand made flyer on the board above it.

"Staff Christmas party?" Clara raised her eyebrows, "It's November."

Amy shrugged in reply. "Mr Armitage asked me to hang it here so everyone would know on time. You'll come, won't you? It was so much fun last year," she said cheerfully before her face turned into a frown, "At least the part I can remember. The punch was murderous."

"I'm not really a party animal," she replied and turned back towards the sink.

"Mhhhh," Amy hummed next to her, "Or are you maybe trying to avoid the Doctor? You know, after stumbling in the woods and accidentally locking lips even though you're engaged."

"That meant nothing," she said defensively, trying very hard to focus on the task at hand, but failing, while she became increasingly aware of just how intently Amy was watching her.

"Didn't look like nothing to me."

While Amy leaned casually against the kitchen counter, Clara dried her hands on the small tea towel and turned to look at her.

"Okay, yes, we kissed and yes, I am engaged. I'm not proud of it and I won't let it happen again," Clara hissed, her anger showing in her voice.

She had been over everything that had happened during the last week multiple times in her head and she had come to the conclusion that Clara would stop acting on her feelings right at this point. The Doctor had been her hopeless crush for years, of course she had jumped at the opportunity, but that was over now. It was time she focused all of her love on Danny, who had been sweet and loving all day yesterday while Clara had retreated with a guilty conscience. She was going to be a better girlfriend from now on, starting with choosing and wearing an engagement ring.

Amy, however, raised an eyebrow at her. "Why does it sound as if you'd very much like for it to happen again?" she asked. "Not that I blame you. The Doctor is quite handsome."

He was indeed. Clara took a deep breath, but Amy cut her off before she could reply.

"But so is your fiancé."

Then suddenly her colleague's gaze dropped to Clara's hands and she gasped at the sight of them "Oh my God, Clara, what happened to your hands?"

When Amy reached out to hold up her hands, Clara took her first proper look at them and realized that they were covered by the same rash that she had thought had been caused by her engagement ring. Now that it had spread over both of her hands, however, Clara wasn't so sure anymore.

"I, uhm, I don't know," she replied, still eyeing the red spots and feeling more than a little puzzled about where they had come from.

"Are you allergic to the dish soap?"

"Maybe," she breathed in reply. If that was so, she wouldn't have to worry about the next ring she chose. It was going to be fine. But then why didn't she feel relieved?

"Well, you're hereby relieved from kitchen duty for now," Amy said determinedly, "At least until we get a different soap."

Clara was still eyeing her hands as she made her way back into her office, but when she arrived there, she immediately spotted something that hadn't been on her desk ten minutes ago. A huge bouquet of beautiful flowers. And the Doctor, who also hadn't been here before, was standing next to her desk, granting her a shy smile.

Clara instantly put her arms akimbo. "Those better not be a silly attempt to change my mind," she said harshly.

"No," the Doctor replied, "Those are an apology."

She raised her eyebrows at him while she carefully stepped closer to examine the flowers. It was a bright mix that she could already smell from a few steps away and she had to admit that they did brighten up the office in a nice way.

"It was unfair of me to just spring that on you," the Doctor said, staring at his feet, "I know that you're engaged and that confessing my feelings must have put you on the spot. I'm sorry about that."

For a moment Clara felt a little lost for words, especially since she had technically done the same thing. She had confessed her feelings and blamed him for the situation they were in now because he hadn't spoken about it sooner. And yet she had had no intentions to apologize to him. Then she became aware of the fact that he wasn't looking at his feet exactly, but at something he was holding in his hands.

In a quick movement Clara stepped forward and snatched the cards away from him and her first look already confirmed what she had suspected. The Doctor had cue cards that held the exact words he had just told her.

"How long have you been preparing for this?" she asked, holding up the evidence.

Again the Doctor gave her an apologetic smile. "All day yesterday?"

"Mh," she uttered and flipped through the remaining cards until her eyes fell on the very last one. "Dinner?"

The Doctor inhaled sharply. "I was going to suggest cooking dinner as part of my apology. Missy is away for a training course until Friday. I can demolish her kitchen without her shouting at me about it."

Clara knew it was potentially a very bade idea, but while the Doctor was standing in front of her, looking cute and shy, she felt the words slip out of her mouth before her mind could stop them. "Dinner sounds good."

His head shot up and the Doctor stared at her in utter disbelief. "Really?" he asked, dumbfounded, "You still want to hang out with me?"

Clara gave a nonchalant shrug, trying to convince herself that it wasn't a big deal. "I don't see why not. We've been hanging out before, we can still do that. I enjoy your company."

A big grin spread over the Doctor's face. "Not as much as I enjoy yours."

"Ah," Clara raised her finger as a warning, "One condition."

"Which is?" he enquired carefully.

"No flirting."

"I can do that," the Doctor confirmed, "I can absolutely do that."

Finally Clara smiled back at him as she handed him the cue cards back. "Good," she concluded, "I have to go to class now, but thank you."

She watched as a frown appeared on his face. "For what?"

"Well, the flowers of course."

When Clara had left the office, the Doctor sank back against the door with a sigh. The direct approach had amounted to nothing, so now he would go back to being subtle. Clara had feelings for him. The rest would fall into place eventually. As the Doctor made his way to his own classes, he already thought of a nice recipe for when Clara would be coming over for dinner and he prayed that she wouldn't change her mind.