Clara ran a hand through her hair. She immediately regretted it. The hand was now covered in dust, goo, and emitting the same revolting smells as her hair. So much for her favourite dress… she really should have known better than to wear it with him.
"I think I should have a shower," she announced, frowning down at her hand.
"You do smell," the Doctor agreed, and she shot him a look, trying to remind him of the reason why she smelled.
He didn't seem to mind, concentrating on pulling a particularly thick strand of the goo of his shoulder, and dropping it on the TARDIS floor with a soft plunk.
Clara stared at the goo, thinking about how long it would take her to wash her hair. She really should have a shower.
"I'll see you in an hour, alright?"
"That's optimistic," the Doctor called back to her, no trace of a joke in his tone, and she couldn't help but laugh a little.
As it turned out, it was optimistic. Very optimistic. It took a bath and two showers before her body was completely gunk-free, and even then her bathroom was stuck with a rather distinct smell… She hopped into bed, having given up on spending any more time with the Doctor tonight, and stared at the ceiling. It was covered with tiny stars. As much as the TARDIS seemed to enjoy messing with her, at the end of the day it always had her back – much like the Doctor did, come to think of it – and had provided her with the perfect room. But as comfortable as she was, she just couldn't get her mind to turn off. She glanced over at the clock on her bedside table. It was doing that funny thing it always did when they were in space, forward one second, back one second, then forward two. She didn't understand it. But even so, she could see it was late enough that he would either be in the library, or have disappeared entirely until morning.
A little voice in her mind spoke up; 'you could go find that photo again.'
An hour and a half later, and Clara was back in the console room, trying to persuade the TARDIS into reintroducing her to the girl with the brown eyes.
"Okay, fine. Just show me all his companions!"
With a small beep, a vast collage of tiny faces came onto the screen, moving past her eyes than she could keep up with. But she could still work with this.
"Alright," she said, voice cautious, "now just the women."
There wasn't a lot of change. "Such a bloke," she muttered.
"Slow down," she asked the TARDIS. It didn't listen.
A little tentatively, she tried pressing a button. The images sped up. She pressed another one. They sped up again. Frustrated, she tried one more time. They disappeared.
"Stop winding me up!" she said, pressing two more.
The images came back.
"Thank you!"
They disappeared again.
"Seriously?"
She pressed several more buttons with renewed frustration. There was a loud whirring noise, and a beeping sound to her left. She turned to face the source of the noise.
A holographic image flickered into existence in front of her, a man, and she knew instantly (almost instinctively) that this was the Doctor. It wasn't her Doctor… this one was younger, well, older than the last – "confusing," she muttered – but younger than the current man. He was attractive, tall, slim, and wearing glasses. His hair defied gravity, and his style was a little... odd. A pinstriped suit clad his skinny frame, while worn converses covered his feet. There was a tiny scribble on the side of one, but it was too small to read.
"Visual interface has been activated," he said in a monotone voice, and Clara realised she was really still looking at the computer. "Do you wish to begin the designated program?"
Clara frowned very slightly. Maybe she had pushed too many buttons… she wasn't sure what program it was she had selected. Best check.
"What program?" she asked the Doctor's image.
"File E.B.R.R-1. Last updated six point three seven galactic class years ago. Currently inactive. Security sequence Pheta-B-7. Programmed for indefinite storage. Do you wish to begin the designated program?"
She bit her lip. That didn't help. "Does it have any other name?" she asked, feeling silly.
"There is no other name for this program," the Doctor said. For a second she thought she saw a smirk.
Clara stared at the hologram, debating whether curiosity was a good enough reason to snoop… Well, continue snooping. In any other context she would have almost definitely said yes, but it was the Doctor's personal files she was peering in to... It suddenly dawned on her that she might have gone to far.
"Do you wish to begin the designated program?" the image repeated with a flicker.
"Alright, alright," Clara said, resisting the urge to pace. "Okay," she said, standing up a little straighter. "Open it." After all, she was living with the man.
"Password required."
The words popped into her head right away.
"Bad wolf," she said.
What was this Bad Wolf thing about anything? It sounded a little, to her, like some sort of inside joke between the TARDIS, the time lord and the Brown-Eyed Girl (which was what Clara called her in her head). Whatever it was, it worked.
The hologram flicked once more, before speaking for a final time. "Password accepted. Launching program." It then disappeared.
A few seconds passed. Nothing happened. Clara was beginning to think this was just an extension of that inside joke, when a new hologram popped into place. It was her.
"Brown Eyed Girl," Clara said, feeling slightly dumb struck, blinking a few times.
To her surprise, the girl blinked back.
"Where am I?" she said, young London accent sitting perfectly on her lips. "Who are you?"
"What kind of program is this?" Clara muttered, subconsciously stepping back.
"Program?" the girl repeated, frowning. She looked around. "Where are we? Some sort of space station?"
Clara didn't say anything. The girl looked back to her.
Clara looked her up and down. She was dressed in jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt, and her hair was shorter than in the photo.
"What is it you want then? Because I don't really wanna wait around for answers, yeah? And my friend will be really annoyed when he finds out I'm missing. Again," she added, in a much slightly softer, almost sheepish, voice.
Clara blinked again, not quite sure what to do.
Her silence seemed to throw the hologram off a little, and the girl spoke a little more gently.
"Is something wrong? Is that why you brought me here?"
Clara swallowed, and then stepped forward again. "My name's Clara," she said. "And I didn't mean to bring you here… you just sort of… activated. Well, the Doctor activated. And then you did. But that's not really important."
"You know the Doctor?" the girl said, raising her eyebrows. "Why am I not surprised." The hologram looked her up and down a bit, before saying under her breath (not that she really had any breath); "Mickey 'ill have a field day."
"I don't know whether to be offended or flattered," Clara laughed, and then stopped, remembering she was having a conversion with a computer program.
"You know," she continued, "when I found your photo I thought you were… well, real."
The girl frowned. "What do you mean? And where did you find my photo? How do you know the Doctor?"
"I'm his companion," Clara said automatically. She was used to answering that one. "We're… best friends."
"His companion," the girl repeated, before suddenly noticing the time rotor. "Wait a minute – is this the TARDIS? Is this some sort of time swap thing? Is this the past? Or the future…"
Clara took a moment. "You mean you don't know what you are?"
The girl stopped. "I'm Rose. Rose Tyler. I'm a human. And I travel with the Doctor. That's what I am. What – who – are you?"
"Rose Tyler," Clara repeated, getting the feel of the name, and trying to let it's meaning sink in. "You're a hologram," she said.
"What?" Rose laughed, looking at her like she was crazy.
The sound of footsteps approached them, and both women turned to face the newcomer. Clara felt immediately guilty, the hologram – Rose – had a sort of defiant expression, and the Doctor looked as if he'd been punched in the gut.
"What – how – how- " he spluttered, staring at the hologram. Then she flickered. Realisation dawned on his face.
"Deactivate E.B.R.R-1," he said quickly.
"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Rose said, before suddenly flickering out of existence again.