A/N Had a bit of time to myself and decided to finally get this done. Just an epilogue left. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 8 - What Kind of Man Are You?

"My, he did grow up, didn't he? Would hardly recognize him if it weren't for that bright hair. John, wasn't it?" Came the sickly sweet voice of the old woman from the bus. "What, nothing to say? I did so enjoy our conversations."

Clara wasn't surprise to find the that woman pointing a gun at them from the other side of the car. She knew the sight would make no sense to John but she hoped he had enough sense to assume this wasn't just some middle aged woman and that the two of them were in a great deal of danger.

"I had hoped you might pick up the Doctor on route. Then I hoped you would be so kind as to lead me to him, but I just got so tired of waiting. Been waiting the past eighteen years, you'll have to forgive me for getting a little impatient. So won't you be a dear and tell me where the Doctor is?" Clara and John stared at her stone faced. "I think you are both smart enough to realize how this is going to go if I don't get my way." Clara gripped John's hand tightly, to keep him strong and hopefully keep him from talking. "Why just look at the two of you. The impossible boy and girl. The perfect gift for a smuggler who has everything. See I was on this horrid planet for something completely different. Small potatoes really. But then I meet you two. Humans completely soaked in the background radiation of time. Now how could that be? It can't, unless someone's been traveling with you primitives. That would have to be the Doctor of course, everyone knows he harbors an abhorring sort of obsession with this place and its people. And if you know where to listen in time and space you hear some interesting things. Like claims of a wounded, potentially death Doctor. I learned that in passing just as you landed in my lap. Who could resist?" The woman had begun to move around the car slowly. Clara and John followed suit until their attacker stood in front of the car and they stood behind it. "There's no where to go I'm afraid. And correct me if I'm wrong, but it looks like there's no one here to save you. This can be easy, just tell me what I wan to know."

John started to laugh, Clara and the woman stared at him in wonder, "do I amuse you, dearie?" Her tone remained sickly sweet, but was now edged with venom.

"Don't worry, I'm not laughing at you," his voice brimmed with Doctor-like confidence. "I'm laughing because I shifted the car into neutral," and before the woman could comprehend his meaning he threw all of his weight against the back of the car. Since he was still holding Clara's hand she fell against it as well and their combined mass was enough to start it rolling. John knew it wouldn't do the woman any real damage, but it caught her off guard and managed to knock her down.

John looked up at Clara, pride clearly evident on his face. Clara pulled him by their joined hands, "Run!" she shouted, leading him into the forest.

"How did I do?" he asked almost excitedly.

"This really isn't a test."

"I mean as the Doctor. That's what he would have done isn't it?"

"Pretty much, although he'd probably first try to sonic something."

They ran as fast as they could, weaving their way through trees and under branches, doing their best not to snag their feet on the undergrowth. "How far are we from Buffalo?" John asked while doing a sideways jump to avoid a rock.

"About 2 hours by car."

"And how long on foot?"

"Longer."

"Right," his legs were longer than Clara's, but after months of running with the Doctor, she had better stamina, "Do you like it?" he asked through laboured breaths.

"Like what?"

"Traveling with him?"

"That woman is after us and you want to chat?"

"Well we can't chat after we've been horribly killed, can we? Wait I've said that to you before, or he has. Only it wasn't quite you. Does all of this ever get just horribly confusing?"

"Sometimes. And yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes I like traveling with him. I love it, actually."

"Even when he gets you into situations like this?"

"John, this really isn't the time."

"Why not? I'm going to be him, don't you think it's time I got to know a little bit more about him? Learn what kind of man he is?"

"You've heard the stories, you've had the dreams, how much more do you need?"

"I need to hear it from you. He trusted your opinion, so I guess I to do. Who is he? What's he really like?"

"He's the Doctor."

"But what does that mean?"

"It means he's a good man. A savour of worlds. The best man I have ever known."

"But not an honest man."

"No," Clara said, thinking back to River and rule one, "not always."

They had scaled down a small cliff and took a moment in its shelter to catch their breaths.

"You know he promised he wouldn't do this again, become human, not after the last time."

"He didn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice."

"Well it was different this time. Your parents knew the plan. No one got hurt."

"What about me?!" Clara took her eyes off of surveillance to look at John, "I'm not just some story, some Hallowe'en costume. I'm real. I have a life, and a family, and I thought I had a future. And now I have to die so that he can live." All of his anger towards the Doctor, all of the pain, suddenly Clara saw it in a whole new light. She reach up and brushed his cheek with her hand. "I had good parents. They taught me what's right, and I know that I have to do this. But forgive me for not being thrilled with the person I have to give my life for." He took off at a run, yanking Clara along after him.

For a long while the only sound they heard was their footsteps and the breaking branches below their feet. Finally John said, "The Doctor, do you like him?"

"Of course I like him," she said, pausing for a moment to get her bearings.

"No, I mean like really like him."

"John, this is still really not the time," she could see a cave in the distance that might provide some protection.

"Because he liked you. More than liked. Was it mutual?"

Clara was already running for the cave, John following blindly, having not let go of her hand since they first heard the shots. "Does that really matter now?"

"If I'm going to die, I'd like to know. I know I'm not really him, but... I'd just like to know."

"Yes. I liked him. I..." she couldn't say it. Not here. Not now that he was gone. She turned down a small hill and came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

"Well isn't that sweet. Looks like we have ourselves a little love triangle," the woman stood a couple of metres away, just down the slope. "I guess it will all work out then. All you need to give me is the Doctor, and this pretty lady is all yours." John rose to his full height, defiantly. "Or I could just shoot her. Your choice really. The Doctor or you sweetheart. Dearie, is it really a choice?"

Clara surveyed their surroundings. There had to be a way out, there always was. She looked over at John. He was staring just above the woman's head, lost in thought, seeming to consider the offer. As mad as he was at the Doctor, Clara couldn't believe he would really give him up. Her eyes followed his gaze and realized he was looking at a 'y' shaped fallen branch that had caught on another limb and now hung precariously over their attackers head. A widow maker, that's what those branches are called.

"Last chance, boy. Where is the Doctor?"

"Here," he said with a cheeky grin, "I'm the Doctor." Clara tried to stop him, but he had released her hand and was moving forward. He wasn't walking so much as leaping. He jumped just down the slope on a smaller tree that was already bent from the wind. His mass was enough to break the sapling and propel it into the branch about the woman's head, dislodging the widow maker and sending it hurling down. Clara and John approached the woman cautiously. She wasn't dead, but appeared to be immobilized and disoriented. Her gun lay a metre from her. John picked it up and casually aimed it at her head, "I don't take to kindly to anyone who threatens the people I care about." He cocked the gun, his finger on the trigger.

"No!" Clara's words gave him pause. Without lowering the gun, he stared at her incredulously, "You can't do this," she said to him in an even voice. "You wanted to know who the Doctor is. Well he's not this."

"What? A killer? Tell that to the Daleks, and the Cybermen, heck, well you're at it, tell that to the other Time Lords. The Doctor's hands are stained in blood."

"He does what he has to, but only as a last resort. Only when there's no other way. He is compassionate and merciful, and gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. If he can save a life, even an unworthy one, he will. He love everything and everyone. That's the kind of man he is. What kind of man are you?"

John looked back down at their would be assailant. His gun still pointed directly at her. "I'm not too fond of the Doctor today. Don't particularly care about his worldview. But lucky for you," he said, sneering at the woman, "I do care about Clara. And what she thinks. But if you come after us again, not even she will be able to stop me. No second chances. That's the kind of man I am." He lowered the gun, grabbed Clara's hand, and began walking back towards the road.

They were able to hitch hike the rest of the way. Clara had to laugh to herself, because in the end, she didn't really need the money, John got them there with charm and a wink, and occasionally the psychic paper. She couldn't help, but laugh at the way his eyes bulged out of his head when he first walked into the TARDIS. "It really is bigger on the inside," she heard him mutter under his breath, although he denied it completely. He ran his hands over the controls, almost reverently, and for the first time since Clara had met him, he looked genuinely happy. He reached under the console and retrieved the fob watch.

"How'd you do that?" Clara asked in amazement.

"You think I don't know my own ship?" and then added more sheepishly, "or well, his ship." John stared at the watch, feeling it almost calling to him, begging for release. "Were you telling the truth before? About the Doctor, and how you felt?"

"Yes," Clara said, with a grin, "Were you?"

"Definitely," he was smiling back at her affectionately. "After this, when he... comes back. Don't let him deny it. He's good at that."

"Maybe he won't have to. He'll be a new Doctor after all. Maybe his feelings will change. It's like he said, 'everything changes'"

"No it doesn't." John ran his hands over the surface, feeling the familiar Gallifreyan script beneath his fingers. "I feel like I should say something. He always says something, doesn't he? Allons-y? Geronimo?"

"Well you're American. What about 'Yee-haw'?"

He gave her an incredulous look, "You don't know anything about Americans do you?"

She was smiling now, "'Giddy up'?"

He smiled back, "It was very nice to finally meet you, Clara Oswald."

"It has been my pleasure," Clara cupped his face in her hands.

"Giddy up!" he said as he opened the watch.