Hello dear readers!

Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. You are all fantastic and brilliant!

I had a ton of fun revisiting these crazy characters and I hope you did to ;)

On with the show!

Enjoy :D

Part 4: The Chase

The problem with plans, Clara had learned during her years working as a detective, is that they didn't always work out. Bum luck and the cruel hand of fate tended to get in the way no matter how clever you were. That's why you needed an ace up your sleeve or at least the appearance that you had one. And Clara knew how to do that.

That's why when everything went to hell she kept her cool.

Martha and David's distraction was impossible to miss. No one, however ossified, could ignore the lights inside the Dalek lounge exploding. Orange and yellow sparks flew everywhere cutting through the sudden darkness. People's confused shouting barely covered the repeated popping as yet another blub blew. When all this was over Clara had to find out how they did that.

While panic set in Clara and John were hidden in a broom closet in the back hallway. They watched the office door through the wooden slats which cast slanted light across their features. It was a tight fit in with the shelving. Clara found the intense heat and John's body pressed against hers distracting. She mentally shook herself. This was no time to be acting like a lovesick dumb Dora.

Clara's attention was grabbed when a tall, thin man in a black suit came darting out of the office. His features were pinched and he had the eyes of a grifter.

"He's here." hissed the man. Clara recognized the voice from earlier, this was Simeon. "John Smith is here."

"Then kill him." said Davros calmly. "This is all according to plan."

A man of indeterminate age followed Simeon out into the hall. Davros' face was a thing of nightmares. Skin deformed and twisted as though he had been severely burned. His flesh was nearly gray and his eyes sunken. It was a stark contrast to his crisp, blue pinstripe suit and slick-backed hair.

Clara felt John tense up beside her as if he were preparing to attack Davros right then and there. She grabbed his arm to prevent him from doing anything stupid. He may be brilliant, but he was also highly impulsive. Right now they didn't have the advantage. This was the Black King and they were on his side of the board.

Davros continued in his toneless voice, "Get rid of Smith, I'm taking the girl."

Simeon nodded with a small smile and pulled out a .38. He disappeared down the hall. Hopefully Martha and David were already out of the building. After he left Davros collected one of his goons. He directed him into the office and he came back carrying Rose.

She was bound with white rope and only semiconscious. Her blonde victory curls were loose, falling over her face. Clara could see defensive wounds on her hands and legs; clearly Rose didn't go down without a fight. She appeared otherwise unharmed.

"Put her in the car," Davros instructed, "We're moving her to the warehouse."

Clara gritted her teeth. This was the exact opposite of what they wanted to happen. She exchanged a silent glance with John. They both knew they needed to get Rose before she went into that warehouse. Otherwise they would lose any advantage they might have had.

Clara and John slipped out of the closet to follow Davros and his thug. Outside Rose began to struggle. She was regaining her senses. The drugs were wearing off. They shoved her in the backseat of a black Buick sedan. Davros pealed out.

Clara drew the bean-shooter she had strapped to her thigh and John aimed his own .38 special. Firing at the tires they tried to take out the car. Bullets ricocheted off the hubcaps but didn't hit the mark. They were too far out of range.

John hopped on an Indian motorcycle parked beside the building. Hot wiring was his idea of commandeering a vehicle. The engine roared to life as Clara jumped on behind him.

"This is a terrible plan." she yelled, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Just hold on!"

They took off weaving in and out of the late night traffic. The yellow street lamps and city lights were a blur. Clara kept her eyes on the Buick. Davros knew they were on his tail. He sped up dodging other cars. It was now a deadly game of cat and mouse.

The Buick, tires squealing, turned off the main road. Clara thought they'd overbalance as John swerved after them. The moment the other cars were clear she threw lead. The rear tire blew sending the heap spinning. The goon fired back as the car lost control. It smashed into a fence stopping for good.

White smoke filled the air. Davros was slumped over the wheel. His hired gun jumped out still waving his cannon. John shot him in the leg dropping him instantly. Clara registered all this but her mind was focused on something else. She got off the motorcycle and took two steps before falling to her knees. Her chest was burning.

John slapped bracelets on the two men and pulled Rose from the wreaked vehicle. He untied her hands. That's when he seemed to realize something was wrong. Clara wasn't with him. She watched the blood drain from his face when he saw her on the ground.

"Clara!" he shouted running to her side. "No. No. No."

That's when she finally realized what the burning was. She was shot. Chest wound, not good, Clara thought dimly. Her blood stained the Dalek uniform and John's hands. He was trying to stop the bleeding. Rose ran to find a payphone.

"Don't you dare leave me." John ordered. There were tears in his eyes. His kissed her lips and stroked her hair softly. "You can't leave me, I love you."

Clara smiled. She couldn't really feel anything anymore.

Hands shaking, John pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small diamond ring. He sipped it onto her left ring finger. "I was waiting for the right time, but… Clara Oswald will you be my wife?"

Clara nodded unable to speak. John chocked out a hysterical laugh. He kissed her again desperately. It was all Clara could focus on as she slipped into the black.

The beeping of medical equipment greeted Clara back to consciousness. She was in a drab, white hospital room. A doctor stood by her bed reading a chart. John was asleep in a chair. Clara tried to remember how she got here. It all came rushing back. The chase, getting shot, and John. John asking her to marry him.

Maybe it was the morphine but Clara couldn't help the wide smile spreading across her face. She glanced over a John. She never would have guessed her life would turn out like this. He made her so happy.

The doctor set aside his clipboard noticing her eyes were open. "Ah Ms. Oswald you're awake. You gave everyone quite a scare."

John immediately sat up then rushed to her bedside. "Clara? Oh thank god."

"How long was I out?" she asked, squeezing his hand.

"About 18 hours." said the doctor, "We had you in surgery for four."

"You're going to be fine." John assured her with a small smile. He looked tired.

The doctor nodded. "Yes you were both lucky. The bullet missed the major organs."

Clara frowned, "Both?"

The man's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

He laughed, "You're pregnant."

Clara turned to John in shock. For a moment she didn't know what to think. He blinked then a radiant smile slid across his face. Tears blurred her vision as she grinned back at him. John leaned down to kiss her joyfully. She tried to express without words she felt the same.

New York City was hot. The backstreets full of crime and lost souls. Death, and smoke, and sorrow were all part of daily life in the Big Apple. But right now Clara didn't see it, right now she was happy.