So most of the story is going to be written in 1st person, but every once in a while I'll go into 3rd person where Rissa is only mentioned.

...

Chapter Three

Let me clear up more about myself. My name is Clarissa Osbourne. I'm fifteen years old, and I'm an American. I live in a foster home with my brothers and sisters. We're not really related, but they're like family to me. My best friend is a year older than me, Isabelle. She's my foster sister. Our parents suck, but the six of us kids (me, Isabelle, Jamie, Jacob, Toby, and Emma) stick together.

I look a lot like Clara does on the show, except my hair is longer and curlier, and my bangs are gone. But I've got the dark brown hair, and the big wide eyes. My hair and my eyes are what I pride myself on. They're the few features of my body that I actually like. My cheekbones are so dull, they're practically non-existent. I'm short, about 5'5". I'm not skinny either. I've been working on losing my weight: dieting, exercise. They don't work very well. I love food too much. I'm still overweight. My butt's too big, my thighs too thick. My stomach doesn't jut out, but the sides of my stomach kind of poke out over my waist. I don't wear makeup, except on special occasions. Luckily, I don't have acne.

...

The Doctor and I stepped out of the TARDIS and entered Victorian London.

"What year is it?" I asked.

"1858," the Doctor replied, before changing the subject. "So, Rissa. Tell me about yourself."

"Well, I'm fifteen," I started. "I'm American, and I live in a foster home. And I love stories. Books, television, movies, whatever form it may be in. Stories provide an escape from the pressures and stresses that school puts on us."

"Alright. And now tell me about myself," he said, his voice a bit darker and rougher again.

"You call yourself the Doctor. You're a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. You say you're over 1200 years old, but in reality, you've lived so long, you've lost track." My voice started out confident at the beginning, but as I slowly reached the end of the sentence, I quieted and slowed down.

"You certainly know more than any human I've met," he grumbled. "So do you know a future me? A next generation?"

"No. I know you," I said.

His forehead crinkled with confusion. "So you know me in my future, but still during this generation?"

"No," I said quietly. "I've always known about you. This is the first time we've met."

"So someone has told you stories about me," The Doctor said, nodding in understanding.

"Yes, but it's someone more than merely a past companion. They know everything about you. Everything but your true name." How was I supposed to explain Steven Moffat to him? Maybe, when given time, I would be able to explain more.

"Here we are," the Doctor said, stopping at 13 Paternoster Row. He rapped his knuckles lightly on the door.

"Yes?" Jenny asked, answering the door. "Doctor! It's nice to see you," she said, smiling and embracing him. "Do come in. And bring, uh,…" her gaze landed on me, someone she had yet to recognize, "...bring your friend."

...

"So, the characters Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are based off you and Madame Vastra?" I asked Jenny. Jenny, Strax and I were all sitting and talking, drinking tea. The Doctor was talking with Madame Vastra in the other room.

"Yes, we met Sir Arthur while working on a case. At Scotland Yard, where we often help with their cases, they call Madame Vastra 'The Great Detective', which is where Sherlock comes in."

"So I assume that means you're John Watson?" I asked. Jenny nodded. "You first names even start with the same letter. And, does this make Strax Mrs. Hudson?"

"I guess it does," Jenny said, smiling.

"Who is this 'Mrs. Hudson'?" Strax asked. "Do we need to kill her?"

Jenny and I laughed as Strax sat there confused.

...

"Listen, I need you to keep Rissa preoccupied. I need to go check some things," the Doctor said urgently to Madam Vastra.

"Of course," Madam Vastra said, "but may I ask, what do you need to check?"

The Doctor paused at the door and glanced over at the other room, where Jenny and Rissa were laughing at Strax. "That girl," he said quietly, "Knows - what I'm believe is - my entire life story. Everything but my name. Now, she said that someone told her this."

"You don't believe her?" Madam Vastra asked.

"I can't think of one person who would know my entire life story," the Doctor said, shaking his head. "Alive, or dead."

"So what are you going to check, exactly?" Madam Vastra asked, confused.

"I'm going to go back in time and watch her, see who tells her my story," the Doctor said. "Find out how she knows so much."

...

The Doctor stepped out of his TARDIS and watched as a young girl holding a bundle in her arms filled out a form.

"Would you like to name her, before you put her up for adoption?" the nurse asked.

"Yes," the young girl said. "Clarissa."

...

The Doctor watched from a distance as Clarissa moved from foster home to foster home, playing, growing up, working hard in school.

He watched as she became the young, intelligent woman she was today. He watched as she dived head-first into her stories, getting involved with her books, her movie franchises, her television shows - not necessarily paying attention to what they were about, just hearing her talk about 'SPN' and 'DW' and SuperWhoLock, whatever that is. It didn't really matter, it was just nice to see her so excited about something.

And as she reached her fifteenth birthday, as she found his TARDIS and stepped inside, he recognized no one. He didn't see anyone explain the story to her, he didn't see anyone who knew even a small part of his identity.

He found nothing that told him how Rissa knew so much.