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Chapter 10

"So, your dad's in town?" Danny asked as they walked along the school corridor.

Clara looked at him, frowning. "What makes you say that?"

"Timmy says he saw you on Sunday in Madame Tussauds, posing for a selfie with the Queen and someone who looked like your dad."

"Ah," Clara said and gave a nervous laugh before she cleared her throat.

"Ah?" Danny asked, raising an eyebrow.

Clara forced a smile. "Not my dad," she replied simply.

"Okay? Who was it then?"

She stopped and frowned at Danny. "Are you sure you really want to know?"

Suddenly the realisation seemed to strike him.

"Oh," he muttered, looking down at his feet, "It's that man from the painting class, am I right?"

Clara nodded. "Yeah. Sorry, I wouldn't have told you."

Danny took a deep breath and continued walking, Clara trailing after him to the staff room for their break.

"He's a decent guy though, isn't it?" Danny asked after a moment, "I'm not jealous. Well, I am, but I want to make sure you don't end up with a jerk."

"Don't worry," she reassured him with a smile, "He's a bit eccentric but not a jerk. Besides, we're not even really dating. I hope we'll get there though."

"Why did Timmy think that he's your dad?"

"Because his hair is grey," Clara laughed as she pictured what Timmy might have seen, the Doctor and her fooling around with the wax figures, making faces for the camera in her phone, him flipping off the likeness of several politicians. Not exactly behaving like a teacher should on front of students. But it had been a fun day.

"How old is he?" Danny wanted to know.

Clara shrugged. "I don't know, I never asked."

"And his name?"

"The Do-, John. His name is John."

Danny fell silent, obviously because the mention of a name had made it too real for him to ignore it further and Clara was glad when another teacher, Lisa, joined them in the staff room. Immediately Clara approached her, a fake smile on her face, and asked her about the latest rumours she had heard about her and Frank. Anything so she wouldn't have to talk to Danny any longer.

OOO

Clara was brushing her teeth for the night when she heard her phone ring. With a frown she spit out the rest of the toothpaste and went into her bedroom to see who was calling her so late. Then she saw his name in bright letters on her screen.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" she asked immediately. They had exchanged their phone numbers during the first weekend they had spent together and he hadn't called her once.

"I, erm," he paused, "Yeah."

Clara sank down on her bed.

"And you're calling me because?"

There was no answer at first, like it was so often the case with him. Despite only knowing him for a little over a week she had learned that whenever he refused to say what was the matter it was usually something personal or something that he hated to admit. When it wasn't about him he could be quite talkative.

"Having trouble sleeping?" Clara guessed.

He sighed on the other end of the line. "Yeah," the Doctor admitted finally.

"Well, just imagine the place I described to you," she told him, "It helped last time, right?"

He paused again. "It's not that. It's. . ."

Clara waited but he didn't continue on his own.

"What is it? Tell me."

"Your voice," he replied hesitantly, "I'd like to hear your voice."

What he said made something inside her stomach tingle and the things Amy had told her crossed her mind again. He just falls in love with someone at first sight. Except that it wasn't in a way that normal people seemed to fall in love. The Doctor went crazy over someone, like he was going crazy over her right now. It flattered and unsettled her at the same time. If only Clara had something she could compare this situation with.

"Would you like me to describe that place again? Or something else?" she asked while she settled under her duvet.

"Can't you. . .," he exhaled sharply, "No, forget about it."

"About what?"

Long pause.

"I was about to ask you to come over but I realized it was a stupid thing to ask. Just forget about it."

"Do you have a camera on your phone?" Clara asked suddenly.

"Why?"

"Hang on," she said and held the phone away from her ear, tapping on the video call button. A moment later she saw her face appear in a tiny square on the lower side of the screen. "There, you should see me now."

It took the Doctor a few moment but finally the screen lit up and she could see his tired, confused face. Clara started to giggle.

"Technology, huh?" she laughed.

"I didn't know you could do that," he admitted, still somewhat baffled.

Clara granted him a smile. "See, it's almost like I'm there with you."

"Is that your bedroom?" the Doctor asked, not looking at her but past her head, "Why do you need three mirrors? Your face isn't that wide."

"Why can't you sleep, Doctor?" Clara wanted to know, her voice suddenly a lot graver, "How long have you been having these nightmares? What are they about?"

"Water," he replied after a while, "I've had them for years."

Water. That would explain why he didn't want her to put a river or a lake into her paradise scenario. And why he never used the bathtub. Something about it terrified him to the point that reached deep into his sleep.

"Missy called me today, apologized," the Doctor said suddenly, "She organized something. Her way of saying sorry, I guess."

"That's good, isn't it?" she smiled at him.

"She called a friend in Paris and they want to display some of my paintings. It's next month. Missy says I should go."

Her smiled widened. "That sounds great. You should definitely go. I've heard Paris is wonderful."

There was another long pause and Clara could see on his face that this was far from the end of this conversation. Rather it was what the conversation had been building up to.

"Would you like to come with me? It's only for a weekend and I have a small apartment in Paris. Haven't used it in a while."

A weekend in Paris with an artist she was definitely attracted to. Clara wanted to agree on the spot. But this was what Amy had been warning her about, wasn't it? The Doctor was sweeping her off her feet and she saw no way she could control the turn their relationship took. It was the Doctor running ahead and Clara following him on his heels, plunging deeper into his world and she didn't really want it to stop. It was almost like an addiction.

"If you need to think about it, that's fine," he said after a moment.

"Thank you," Clara uttered, "You'll have my answer next weekend, if that's okay?"

The Doctor nodded but Clara could tell that he wasn't happy with her answer. He wanted her there and even though the yes was on the tip of her tongue she refused to say it without thinking about it for at least a couple of day. It would be the reasonable thing to do.

OOO

"Thank you for agreeing to this," Clara said, relief in her voice as Amy slipped into the seat across the table.

She laughed. "Invitation for coffee. Who could refuse?" she asked jokingly, "But I'm a bit surprised you want to talk already."

Clara inhaled sharply while the waiter took Amy's order and when the woman turned back to Clara she looked slightly worried.

"You seem a bit lost. Is everything alright?"

Clara told her everything, simply everything. How she had met the Doctor, how she was attracted to him in a way that was more than admiration and friendship. About how she worried because he neglected food and sleep and about his nightmares and refusal to talk about anything personal.

"Is that what it's like with him all the time?" Clara wanted to know, "I don't understand myself. He is obviously troubled and my common sense tells me it would probably be better if I stayed away and yet I can't because. . . Because. . ."

Because it was an addiction. Something about the Doctor just drew Clara to him. Was it because she was attracted to him? Because he told her she was beautiful? Because she had become the centre of his attention and the egomaniac in her was loving it?

"It's not always like that," Amy reassured her with a kind smile, "He has these phases and then they die down a bit. I won't deny that he has problems because I know he has. But if you're hoping I can tell you any more then I'm sorry to disappoint you. He never told me anything about his past but after a while I stopped caring because we had fun, because he was lovely and adventurous. Because he cared for me and I for him. It didn't really matter. And I don't think he ever really lets anyone close. I'm surprised you got so far as to notice he has nightmares. I didn't even know that."

Clara sighed. Amy had been her last hope of finding out a bit more about the Doctor. Well, she could always ask Missy but something told her that whatever Missy knew she would keep that to herself.

"Go to Paris with him," Amy suddenly said, "He obviously had a difficult time when you met him. But with me he has always loosened up outside of his studio. Give him a chance."

"You were the one who warned me about not getting in too deep."

Amy shrugged. "You seem to be thinking about this more already than I ever did. And you don't even really know him yet. You don't know how wonderful it can be. And he's crazy for you, give him a chance to show it. I think he deserves that."

Clara took a deep breath. "Okay, if you say so."

"Now, tell me, does he still own that ridiculous pair of question mark underpants?"

She laughed and Amy laughed and they spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the Doctor, light subjects like his choice of clothing, and then moved on to what Clara did for a living and how Amy was working as a journalist and about how she and her husband Rory were close to wrapping up the adoption of a girl named Melody. They both got along surprisingly well and Clara felt certain it wouldn't be the last time they met over a cup of coffee.