A/N Decided to break the last chapter up. Almost there.

Chapter 6 - Her Sweetheart the Doctor

Clara couldn't deny she felt a pang of sadness watching the Ponds walk away with John. There was happiness mixed in there too of course. Hard as it was to believe, it all seemed to be working out. The moment Amy picked John up and brought him over to Rory Clara already knew they were a family. So why was she sad? Maybe it was because for the first time in a long time the slower path had appeal. She would be back here in a day and will have missed it all; his whole life.

Her trip back to the Buffalo was long and uneventful. She spoke to nobody and spent her time staring out the window and longing to just get it over with. When she entered the TARDIS she expected to immediately flip the switch River had set up for her, but was surprised to find herself opening a small, hidden compartment, instead. They had decided to leave the fob watch on board, River wasn't sure what would happen if it was taken into New York and besides the assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get through that door, and, according to the Doctor, they've tried. Clara held the watch tightly in her hand. She was sure that the subtle vibration she felt wasn't just her imagination. It was her Doctor, never content to sit still. "We're almost there," she whispered to it, "I'm about to go back for you. You'll be happy. You're ginger now." She stared down at the watch, longing to open it for a moment. Craving just a second of him. But she didn't dare. Too much of a risk. "I wish you were coming with me." She meant the Doctor of course, but in a small way she also meant the watch. There was something comforting about having it around. It seemed to ground her, keep her brave. But she knew what she had to do. She slipped the fob watch back into its hiding place, "See you soon" and with it safely secured she flipped the switch and propelled herself 18 years into the future.

Clara never would have thought it would be nearly as hard to get a bus ticket as a single young woman as it had been as a perceived single mother, but once again she was standing in front the ticket booth across from a man (fortunately a different man) that wasn't sure if she should really be going. "I just don't know Miss. Isn't there anyone who could be your chaperon?"

Clara longed for the psychic paper, but since Amy and Rory would have to explain who John was and how they suddenly had a child, she'd thought it was best to leave the paper with them. Fortunately, Clara had the next best thing, experience. "Please sir. The only family I have in the world is in New York City and they will be so very worried if I don't make it down by tomorrow morning. Could I maybe sit up with the driver? That way he could look out for me." The man seemed to consider this option and finally relented.

Clara sat in exactly the same spot she'd been in yesterday. She stared out the window and longed for the bus to start moving; longed for an end to this day. Her silent stewing was interrupted by a shriek. She quickly turned around and came face to face with the older woman she had traveled with yesterday. The older woman who was now eighteen years older than that. "Good heavens! You look just like..." the woman didn't seem able to completely her thought, probably realizing how crazy it was. She had gone white as a sheet and had a look in her eyes akin to seeing a ghost. "I'm sorry, it's just that you look exactly like someone I rode this bus with a long time ago."

"That's possible," Clara said, her brain working fast, "My older sister used to come this way years ago, and everyone says I look just like her when she was my age." The woman was nodding, but still looked shaken. "Did she by any chance have a little boy with her with vibrantly ginger hair?"

At that the woman seemed to relax, "Yes, that's right she did," seeming a little more comfortable the woman stowed her bag and sat down next to Clara. "You really are the spitting image."

"We get that a lot."

"Is that where you're headed, love? To see her?"

"Yes."

"Whatever happened to that little boy she was caring for? James was it?"

"John," Clara corrected.

"John, of course. The mind isn't quite what it used to be. He was such a lovely baby."

"He's doing well. All grown up, just turned eighteen."

The woman looked a little surprised at that, "My how time passes."

They spoke here and there throughout the trip, but not nearly as much as they had the time before. The woman still seemed a little put out and Clara was growing impatient with the whole arrangement and just wanted to be back in the TARDIS.

"Whatever happened between your sister and that sweetheart of hers? Did they end up together?"

"Yes," Clara said, offhandedly.

"I knew they would. I'm very good at those kind of things. Well good for her. And a doctor too. What a catch!"

Clara prayed that the fear that instantly consumed her over the mention of that word was not showing on her face, "Doctor?" she asked as casually as she could.

"Her sweetheart, wasn't he a doctor?"

"No," Clara was worried it came out a bit too emphatically, "He's a teacher. The father of the boy she was looking after, he was the doctor."

"Oh," she said with easy, "must have got it mix up. Never get older, my dear. Everything goes."

They were quiet for a long while after that. Could the mention of 'doctor' have been a coincidence? Of course it could, but Clara couldn't shake the unease that went along with it. The bus was starting to make her feel claustrophobic She was relieved to see that they were pulling into a rest station. She could definitely do with some fresh air.

"Do they live in the city now? Your sister and the doctor?" Clara stared at the woman, what was she to say? "I'm sorry, teacher, not doctor."

"Just outside of it," Clara's voice sounded off, even to her. The bus came to a stop and the driver informed everyone of their ten minute break. "Excuse," she said as she slipped past her seat mate, "I just have to go to the loo."

As soon as she was inside the rest stop Clara walked straight through and out the back doors. There was almost no other development in the area, and the rest station was surrounded by a large field of tall grasses. Making sure that no one was looking, Clara ran for the field and crouched down below the top of the grass. She crawled until she could see the bus. None of the street lamps were facing the field, she couldn't even make out her hands in front of her, but the bus was illuminated and she could see into it easily. When the ten minutes were up the driver returned. The older woman appeared to be kicking up a fuss that she wasn't there. The drive looked around the rest station, but after 15 minutes or so finally gave up and continued on his way, much to the distress of the older woman. By this point Clara was freezing. Her hands and knees were muddy and all she wanted was to hail a cab or catch the next bus through, but she already knew she couldn't go back to the rest station.

She wandered down the side of the road hoping someone would stop. She had to laugh at herself, she'd faced down an Ice Warrior, the Cybermen, not to mention thousands of deaths, but the truth was, hitchhiking scared her. She needn't have worried though. She ended up getting picked up by a lovely old truck driver, who didn't care a lick whether or not she was a young woman traveling alone, and seemed perfectly content to swap sci fi novel recommendations. Clara had had to summarize some of her adventures with the Doctor in order to keep up with the conversation, but surprisingly that actually made her feel better. She was safe for the time being and had found herself a ride to the Big Apple. Now she just had to make it to John before that woman did.