Just the two of us
Written by Loverly Souris
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Enemies and enigma
Enemies
"Clara! CLARA!"
It is a trap and it was undoubtedly set for him – this is why he can't fathom how in the name of sanity he could let themselves walk straight into it so carelessly. He is banging his fists against the thick glass wall that separates him from her while she watches him desperately.
"Stop that, Doctor!" Bang. "There's no use, it won't break!" Bang. "You'll only hurt yourself, stop that at once! Doctor!" Bang!
She continues pleading, but he only stops when he falls onto his knees exhaustedly and she immediately notices the blood on his hands. Clara gasps and unwittingly reaches out, her fingertips pressing onto the glass. She wishes she could shatter the wall solely with her mind, because she would do anything to be able to touch him at that moment.
Clara lowers herself onto the floor to be on the same level with him. "Doctor, it's fine," she whispers and flashes a small smile that is reassuring – hopefully. "Everything is fine. We'll get out of this."
"If anything happens to you, I swear I'll-"
"Nothing'll happen," Clara cuts in. "We'll both get out of this, unharmed and alive."
She has no idea yet how they are going to do that though. She looks around once more in the circular room, but there isn't much to see – it's empty. No furnishing, no objects. Nothing. The door where they entered has already disappeared. The glass was non-existent until she passed through it, and then it solidified so that it would lock her away from the Doctor in a mere second. However, they can still hear each other crystal clear as if there was nothing between them.
"Try the sonic," Clara suggests and the Doctor looks at her.
"Oh… right."
"And pull yourself together!"
"Okay."
He stands up, twisting and turning the metal device in his hands, pressing buttons, eliciting sounds while waving with it. The glass is impenetrable. He turns his back to her and tries the wall of the room – that's when it happens. The door appears again and two of them enter, their hideously synthetic voice filling the air.
"Doctor."
It has been a while since he met Daleks that remembered him.
The Doctor opens his mouth, but he is immediately cut off by a small, painful whimper – he can hear it even over the frantic beating of his two hearts. Still facing the Daleks but turning his head, he sees Clara pressed up against the glass staring at them in shock. She is trembling at the mere sight of his greatest enemies and he knows she is recalling what happened to Oswin.
"Let her go," the Doctor says – his voice dangerously low and it has never been more threatening, at least to Clara's ears.
"No," one of the Daleks drawls. "She will watch us exterminate you and we will convert her."
The Doctor is trying to ignore the soft thump and her cry of protest behind him. His screwdriver is still in his hand, hidden behind his back – a few more twists and he'll have the setting he needs…
"Really?" he spats at them coldly. "Then why haven't you killed me already?" Neither of the Daleks answers and the Doctor lets out a bitter laugh. "Oh! You wanted to relish the moment, am I right? After all, you are going to kill the Oncoming Storm himself! The Predator's head on a silver platter! Hah, amazing! Well, I have bad news for you – your arrogance will be the cause of your death…"
It all happens in a second.
Clara watches the Doctor through her tears as he turns around, smiles at her for a last time and lifts the screwdriver.
It barely sinks in that the light is red instead of the usual green before he presses a button.
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Enigma
A crossover with BBC Sherlock
"An enigma indeed… a riddle."
The impossible girl, his Clara, the woman twice dead, the mystery he wanted so desperately to solve. He loved riddles, he did – however, he felt like he needed some more advice besides Emma's.
And he immediately knew where to go for some helpful deduction.
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"Where are we going?" Clara asked the following Wednesday – which was actually only ten minutes later for the Doctor.
"We're staying in London. 2009."
"Are we visiting someone then?"
"Yeah."
"Will you tell me who?"
The Doctor looked at her and decided that he couldn't contain himself. "We're going to see my old friend, Sherlock Holmes!"
Clara lifted an eyebrow. "Is it a codename or something?"
"No, it's the actual Sherlock Holmes."
"Isn't he a Doyle character? In a novel? You know, like… fiction?"
The Doctor grinned. "You'd be surprised if you knew how many fictional characters are actually alive. For example, there's a town in Maine called Storybrooke where fairy tale characters live. They are trapped because of a curse though. I've yet to figure that one out, I want to help them. Anyway, don't mention the novels in front of Sherlock. It's a bit timey-wimey."
Clara just blinked, then shrugged. "Okay. Whatever. So why are we visiting him?"
"Oh, I just thought it has been a long time since I last saw him…"
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Twenty minutes later, she was sitting in an armchair with a cup of tea and under the scrutinizing gaze of none other than Sherlock Holmes himself.
She had no idea what she'd expected, but certainly not this. This bloke was handsome – Those cheekbones… – and brilliant and utterly terrifying.
"So," the Doctor said trying to break the slight tension. "Still no new flatmate then?"
"As you can see."
"Want me to find you someone? I know this great man. He used to be a doctor. An actual doctor, unlike me."
Sherlock ignored him. Five more minutes of silence – the Doctor occupied himself, Sherlock was deep in thought and Clara was too intimidated to speak, even though she wanted to ask so many things. It was a rare occurrence that she was unable to talk and she didn't like it.
Suddenly, Sherlock stood up, grabbed the Doctor's arm and pulled him towards the other bedroom. He closed the door so that Clara couldn't hear them.
"It took you quite a long time, my friend. Are you out of practice?"
"She looks as ordinary as any other girl. Extremely boring. However, there is something strange, something inexplicable…" Sherlock trailed off for a second. "Where did you pick her up?"
"Here in London. Chiswick, to be exact."
"When?"
"2013. What is so strange about her?"
Sherlock looked at him with the mixture of wonder and horror. "She is practically a puzzle. No, more like a mosaic. I don't understand why, but she gives off the feeling of thousands and thousands of separate lives."
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"Sherlock examined me, right?" Clara asked as they left 221B Baker Street. "That's why he was looking at me so funny."
"Yes."
"And did I pass his test?"
The Doctor took her hand with a soft smile. "You certainly did."
Clara smiled back. While she turned away from him, the Doctor let his curious gaze linger on her a bit longer.
I'm definitely going to find out who you are, Clara Oswald.
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