A/N Sorry I've been a bit behind. Crazy week. Thanks for the reviews! Hope you like this.
Chapter Four - Time
Without a word the Doctor took Clara's hand and-for the second time that day-raced out of the room. When they were safely in the TARDIS he ran straight to the console and busied himself with the controls, not ready to make eye contact just yet. Clara had only made it a few steps into the TARDIS before stopping, still visibly shaken. Her arms were crossed defensively across her chest and she stared off into the distance, not really taking anything in. "That was... that was... What was that?"
The Doctor looked back at her, both relieved by and hating the physical distance between them, "Us?" his nervousness turned it into more of a question than the statement he had intended.
"Us? Really, actually us?"
"Yes?"
"But how can it be us? I mean, we're here. Can't it be a trick or something?"
"Nope. It's... it's the future."
"When?"
"Dunno. Distant future. Probably... or maybe not. But it's definitely a Wednesday. So at least I got that right."
"And you... hold on. You knew. You tried to warn me. I heard you calling just as I entered the room. How did you know?"
"I..." the Doctor fidgeted with his hands and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, "I landed there this morning by mistake."
It took Clara a moment to comprehend his meaning, but as soon as she did a small teasing grin spread over her face, "You saw them and then came to fetch me in your snog box?"
"I... no... I mean... shut up," she loved it when he was so embarrassed he involuntarily fixed his bow tie.
"Well at least now I know why you've been so strange all day. So that's really our future then?"
"Yes. Well probably. Most likely. Time's a funny thing."
"But we saw it. Doesn't that mean it's fixed?"
He looked away from her, "Time can be rewritten".
"Do you want it to?!" she said it before she could stop herself, and prayed the disappointment she felt wasn't evident in her voice.
For once in his life the Doctor's mind was blank. What did he want? He had spent so long burying such questions away that the answers seemed impossible to unearth in a single moment. He suddenly realized he'd been silent for too long, and her expectant look was hardening into one of distance. "I don't know," he stammered out at last, although he knew it wasn't what he was suppose to say, and it certainly wasn't what Clara wanted to hear. "Do you want it to?"
There was no way Clara was opening up when he hadn't. Besides, in that moment she didn't know either. There was nothing more lonely than being the only one invested in something and she wasn't ready to put herself through that. "Doctor, I think we just need some time to think about this."
"Yes, quite right. Time. I love time. Time's the best."
"A week at home will help us sort it all out."
"Home?" the word had caught him completely off-guard. "As in the Maitland's?" He didn't understand it. This was the TARDIS after all. There wasn't anywhere with more time.
"Yeah. You could take me home and by the time you arrive back next Wednesday we'll both have a better sense of what we want and what we should... er... do."
"Right. Okay... right." he wanted to object, but on what grounds? If she needed time who was he to argue? He turned back to the console and plotted a course home. He would land them at the Maitland's five minutes after they had left. This time he quadruple checked the destination before heading off.
Both Clara and the Doctor stared out of the TARDIS door and glanced around the Maitland's front yard suspiciously. The day was still overcast and dry. A quick reading from the sonic screwdriver confirmed he had landed them exactly where he intended to at 8:42 in the morning. Clara looked back at him, a weak, but encouraging smile on her face, "See you next Wednesday, Doctor," and with that she walked up to the front door and into the Maitland's house.
A small part of Clara regretted leaving the Doctor and wanted to run back into the ship and throw her arms around him. Not in the hopes of it becoming something more, but because they always did that. Physical contact was so much a part of their lives that she could almost feel the absence of it today. She could have also used the comfort. Now that she was on her own she fell back into the shock and worry she had felt the moment she discovered... them. It seemed impossible really, her and the Doctor. It wasn't as though she'd never thought about it, never noticed his strange good looks or delighted in the feel of his body against hers during an impromptu hug, but he was the Doctor, and that sort of thing wasn't an option. What was her rule? Don't fall in love. Not always the easiest rule to follow, but she'd done alright. She'd buried these thoughts and desires well enough that now that she stood on the precipice of them actually coming to fruition, she didn't know what she wanted, much less what to do.
Clara had been so lost to her own thoughts it took her a while to noticed that she'd walked into the living room and for the last few minutes had been standing in front of the couch, her arms crossed protectively against her chest. She sat down and yelped out in pain, shifting slightly she retrieved the stereo remote from under her. She must have sat on the power button, for very soft music had started, barely audible, and yet somehow familiar. Clara dropped the remote when she realized where she had heard it before.
The Doctor's first instinct-as always-was to skip ahead to next Wednesday, but he stopped before he'd so much as punched in the start of the coordinates. A week was a long time. By the time he landed she would have processed what happened and would have come to a decision. It would be no good for him to arrive still embarrassed and excitable. If she wanted time, he would have to take it too. And with a time machine at his disposal there was no need to limit himself to a week. Months, years, centuries even. He'd done it before. Really what he needed was time away to get his head on straight and sort it all out. The Doctor didn't feel like himself today. He felt raw, emotions, and passions too close to the surface for his own comfort. A break was just what he needed. He was already thinking up places to go, things he'd been putting off because they weren't exactly human friendly, when he stopped. "I missed something," he could feel it in the back of his mind, connections forming, conclusions beginning to be reached, "I missed it. I saw it and I missed it. What did I see?" his mind scanned through everything that had just happened: watching Clara walk up to the house, the two of them glancing nervously around the yard, the monochromatic sky, the empty driveway, the bush capable of optimum photosynthesis, the small front lawn, recently cut, and a moose. A moose?! Not a real one, of course, a picture. There was a moose on the front page of the paper. The local boy must have tossed it on the lawn in the five minutes the Doctor and Clara had been gone, for he hadn't noticed it there before. It was a funny thing, a moose on the front page. An unusual thing, and yet one that the Doctor had seen before. It had been hard to make out the first time, for the paper had been soaked, the rain making the ink run, but it had been the same picture, which meant...
The Doctor flew out of the TARDIS. Ignoring the bell he reached for the doorknob, but found it retreating from his grasp. He stared up from it, locking eyes with Clara. "It's..." he began.
"It's the same day."
