A/N: Many thanks to everyone for their reviews and supportive words in response to my last note. It is greatly appreciated and encouraging to know that people really are enjoying this fic so much, especially as it seems like it might be a long one at this point, please continue to let me know your thoughts good and bad :)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The opportunity presented itself as they stepped onto the paradise world of Halithropia IV and he hesitantly watched as she explored further into the wild jungle landscape ahead of him. But his clever eyes tracked what she could not see, his hearts stopped as he considered the risk... the danger and he balanced it against the risk he took every time she stepped out of the TARDIS, every day that passed and her fragile human body continued to tick off days... hours, minutes. The echo of the time slipping through his fingers was like a drum beat pounding in his head in time with her heart and he began to sympathise with the Master's madness.

So he paused, his faster reflexes catching the dart that fired at him from the exquisitely beautiful and utterly deadly Rellulia flower that seemed to have infested this part of the jungle. She was ahead of him, he could reach her, stop it he realised, as he watched another flower turn it's head tracking her picking up on her scent; he watched as the stem tightened and his eyes narrowed, he let his breathing level out and pressed his lips together forcefully saying nothing. The stem pulsed and it lets loose it's toxic barb. It flew with unerring accuracy hitting her straight between her bare shoulder blades of the simple tank top she wore, embedding and digging in and he flinched, feeling his hearts falter right along with the echo of hers in his mind as its venom began pumping relentlessly into her oh so human system. So fragile.

It took a matter of seconds and it was done, it had all changed... He caught her as she fell, not willing to let even a bruise further add to the tally of the damage he had done here. Sweeping her up into his arms he masked his own scent so as not to attract more, as he flew back through the jungle, hearing her laboured breathing already as he all but became invisible to the remaining flowers. There was no risk to her, not anymore, no need to mask her scent the venom was already leaking out through her pores, its work done. The TARDIS doors flew open admitting him as the alarms blared, the Old Girl detecting the condition of its human occupant with clear panic. He paid her no heed, heading straight for the medbay which presented itself at the first turning as he laid Clara's prone form on the bed, stroking through her sweat soaked brow, as her eyes fluttered, consciousness a battle every inch as fierce as the one going on within her cells right now. His hands fumbled for the injection of adrenalin and he slammed it through her breastbone, halting the poisons progression for a moment and sending her shooting awake with a startled gasp as she instinctively reached for him.

"Doctor." She managed, the word a mere tremble from her lips as she collapsed back against the bed, clutching at his hands against the agonising pain he knows is ripping through her body now that he has forced it to wake. Even the plant hadn't been that cruel, letting her mind slip into blissful unconsciousness rather than face what he was forcing her to.

"You've been poisoned by the sting of the Rellulia flower. It is highly infectious... and deadly." He rattled out the information to her quickly, seeing her eyes widen as she began to pant, her chest heaving as her single heart struggled to cope. "Think of it as the beubonic plague of the plant world, only faster acting. Its toxin forces it's spores into your body, breaking apart your cells, until you eventually... pop." He swallowed back bile at the thought. "Releasing the spores into the atmosphere and spreading the flower."

"Fix it." She gasped, clutching onto him tightly and he was unable to suppress the sudden flash of pride he felt about the certainty she held in that sentence, her faith in him. It made what he was about to tell her all that more painful and he winced.

"There is no known cure." He grasped her face tightly in his hands, wanting to let her know that he was right here with her.

Clara's eyes widened and he saw tears leak out which pinched his hearts, he should feel guilty, a part of him he was certain did, but he had to do this. "What about unknown...?"

He smiled thinly. That was his girl... always trusting him to have a plan.

"There is something." He admits, knowing there is no going back, there hadn't been from the moment he had let that dart fly.

"A spoonful of sugar?" she rasps hopefully, clutching onto him like the lifeline he is. He turns to the medbay computer screens, opening up the panel he has concealed the container within and pulls it out with a flourish as he holds it in her eye-line, the unmistakeable swirl of regeneration energy holding her attention despite the pain she must be in.

"You have maybe ten minutes." He tells her quietly. "Time enough to try this."

"Your regeneration energy." She asks clearly recognising it, "And you just so happen to have some stored away for a rainy day?" her eyes latch onto his and he obligingly takes her hand which she squeezes tightly her whole body trembling in his grip; and he knows if she wasn't in such pain she'd have called him on this. But her brain was already starting to shut down again, compartmentalising what it needed to get her through the next ten minutes of utter torture.

"New cycle," he waved her comment away, "there was a lot of it going around, it seemed prudent to store it for such a day."

"And it's pouring now?" she manages before letting out a cry as her body bucked giving into a wave of agony as it passed over her and he can do nothing but squeeze her hand more tightly, placing the canister down hastily and letting his hand brush across her forehead, reaching out with his mind and trying to offer her a few minutes of relief from the pain as he diverts it to less overloaded and sensitised neurones, taking on some himself with a grimace.

"Like a bitch." He mutters as he successfully pulls her through the haze for the moment at least and she tries to laugh, half at his comment and half in blessed relief. But the toxin is potent, in moments it seems she is all but choking on the sound and her eyes flutter closed.

"Stay with me." He insists, brushing his hand across her forehead again and pushing the command into her subconscious her eyes open, it is cruel, possibly one of the most cruel things he has ever done, to force her to be present to feel every moment of her agonising death, but he needs to explain. "Clara my love, this cure may be worse than the disease, like chemotherapy. Destroying everything in its path, both you and the poison." He explains.

"How much of me?" she hesitates despite the dire situation and he can't give her false hope, it wasn't fair, he was certain if she got through this she would be furious, no need to add more fuel to that particular fire.

"I was taking poetic licence". He admitted debating about whether to tell her the whole truth, but there isn't time to convince her of the lie, if she wants to live, she has to choose this way, the only way. "You will cease to be human." He tells her softly, feeling her hand fall away from his. "If that is you define humanity as your cellular makeup alone."

"Oh." Is all she manages as she turns her head away from him, her chest struggling to rise and fall before his very eyes, her forehead creased with lines as tears leak out of her eyes, running in rivulets that he imagines should drown him. He knows it is the pain, the toxin, but a snide part of him reminds him it is also his words... what he is doing to her, forcing on her.

"It is that, or cease to be at all." He reminds her needlessly he can feel the turmoil in her mind, the dancing questions and the panic to stay alive whatever the cost. Survival instinct, it is what he must rely on, and if nothing else she is gloriously human enough still to have that in spades. Ironic it would be that very human stubbornness to cling to life that would be its own undoing.

"What will it do?" she grits her teeth, and clutches the side of the bed curling into herself and he reaches out to touch her back, trying to comfort and knowing it is futile.

"The energy will pervade every cell." He reached into a draw and pulled out a needle, "Nanogenes, you remember, fabulous at repairing... pretty good at rewriting too." He held it in front of her eyes, she'd seen them before but he didn't trust her memory right now and he was trying to keep her focus. Unfortunately he noticed the sheen to her eyes; she had to remain conscious so he tapped her cheek lightly, "Hey, focus." He warned her lightly and she gave a hiss of breath in response, her eyes open ahead and unblinking "I've programmed them to help your cells learn how to accept and modulate the regeneration energy," her nearly blank eyes found his and took on life again for a moment with a flash of accusation as they seemed to ask 'when?' it was he'd had the forethought to programme these; but as she didn't say it, he saw no reason to offer the information. "This isn't regeneration as you know it," he qualified, "that is a Time Lord trait and more than simple energy, but you would 'renew'." He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles "Every cell in your body would be in a constant state of pending renewal and rebirth."

Her mouth opens and she draws in several ragged breaths, her whole body shaking with the effort and it feels like his hearts are in a vice as she manages to get the words out. "I'd heal." She acknowledges closing her eyes briefly at just the effort from those two simple words; but it is a limited understanding he senses from her and he wonders if she is too addled to make this decision.

Underneath it all he finds a shred of decency, all centred around his love for this impossible woman, and fear that if he doesn't at least try to explain she will abandon him if she survives this. "Clara my love, this isn't temporary, you wouldn't just heal from this, you'd heal from everything every threat to your cells survival." She nods, clearly she'd gotten that, but her eyes remain closed as her breathing grew more shallow, he leant in until his nose all but brushed hers, wanting to share his own breath, force air into her failing lungs and knowing it was a fools hope. "Clara listen to me, please just listen, the energy contained in this canister is extensive, enough to sustain you for a long time." He owed her so much more than just the truth, but right now it was all he had.

Her eyes cracked open at the plea he knew she could hear and despite her agony she couldn't leave unanswered. "T...imme Lo.o...rd?" she stammered out the words he of course recognised as his own species and he felt the flesh of fear, the resistance coming from her at the notion. He shook his head vehemently as her eyes squeezed shut again and he pressed a kiss to each furiously closed eye. He knew what she was asking and for once he didn't have to lie to reassure her.

"No my sweet Clara, you would never be that, even if it were possible I would never inflict it on you." But she was already retreating into her own mind, synapses coming to a shuddering halt as her body was ravaged by the toxin, she wasn't of sound mind right now, but there was no other choice. If he must he would make this choice for her. "But you won't be human anymore." He rasped and he quite clearly saw her entire body flinch in response, her fingers found the strength to cut into his skin, her glassy eyes opened to his.

"No. Don..'t I, wan...t." She rasped failing to finish but her meaning was clear enough as she turned her head away from him her eyes squeezing shut against the pain and her felt her heartbeat faltering catastrophically in his mind.

Anger and panic flashed through him and he gripped her shoulders tightly shaking her back into alertness. "No? NO!" he roared, "Now is not the time to be stubborn Clara!" He all but snarled, pulling her upright into his arms and cradling her head as it flopped forward, all strength finally leaving her as her body succumbed. But her eyes were open again and although glazed, her focus was on his even if words and thought had long since failed her. "You'd really leave me all alone?" he knew it was low, to play the guilt card, but he wasn't above using anything in that moment, and he desperately wanted her to agree, because even if she didn't he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Fresh tears sprung from her eyes and traced a pattern across her cheeks as he held her firmly, his intent burned clearly into his features. "Don't make me do this." He begged. "I can't lose you." He hoped she understood both meanings behind that statement, because he wasn't fool enough to think there somewhat strained relationship would survive intact if he went against her wishes. However ridiculous they were.

But she didn't seem able to speak, her throat was likely closing, breath would fail soon and he needed her breathing to do this. "Do you trust me my darling girl?" he offered, knowing that her answer wouldn't be emphatic and she hesitated, every millisecond of it cut his hearts. "Do you trust me to save you?" He tried one last time.

Her eyes fluttered shut and he laid her back on the bed, hovering over her, desperate for even a syllable of agreement from either her mouth or her mind, it didn't matter much. "Yes." She breathed finally even as her mind screamed its uncertainty and it was all he needed. He turned grasping the needle and pushed it into her skin, sending the nanogenes coursing through her system before he reached for the canister. He ripped open the seal without preamble and held it over her chest, the opening close to her mouth.

"Breath Clara, just breathe and it will all be over soon. You're going to be fine." He promised, his hand at her brow gently stroking her hair from her forehead as the golden tendrils chased towards the living receptacle she offered, stealing into her mouth and nose with her flickering breaths, pouring in and filling her. She bucked violently and he fought to keep her steady on the bed, to hold her from hurting herself as she thrashed, her voice returning only to break into a deafening scream that tore loose from her body before she fell limp; a soft golden hue lighting her skin. He ripped his hands from her body at the very last moment he can, because in this moment he can do nothing but watch as she fights it, not daring to touch her lest the energy leap to him as her body struggled to accept it.

It takes longer than he imagined it would, her screams subsiding into whimpers and he longs to reach out and hold her, to make this right, but he can't, not yet or so the scanner tells him the energy was still working its way through her, the nanogenes playing the role of Pied Piper leading it relentlessly onwards into every fragile human cell already straining with toxin.

The TARDIS was less than pleased, he could feel her disapproval sliding over and clawing at him; her senses attuned and recording every flicker and millimeter of damage happening to Clara, every change he was inflicting on her still painfully fragile human body.

"She'll thank me." He whispered, burying his head in his hands, because there is no point lying to the telepathic machine, she knows his dark heart, knows the reason he risked this planet at all. The lights flashed and the machine hummed dangerously back at him as he felt the unmistakable push of her cold shoulder as she severed her connection to him for the time being, unable it seemed to stand being in his head any longer. He couldn't blame the Old Girl, he couldn't stand it either.

The lights were dim when she opened her eyes and there was a gentle hum coming from the bed which seemed almost deliberately soothing as Clara tried to regain her bearings. Her breathing was shallow and she felt... fine. She shouldn't feel fine, she knew that, remembered that much. No one went through agony like that and came out of it 'fine'.

Her eyes found the crumpled form of the Doctor slumped in an arm chair at the back of the room, pressed against the wall like he couldn't bear to be closer, but was still unwilling to leave. His breathing was deep and even, his eyes closed, asleep. Hesitantly Clara sat up, examining herself with a brief pat down, not sure what she was looking for but not liking the fact that everything seemed the same. Her last memories before she'd thankfully slipped into unconsciousness had been of pain, actually that was too quaint a word for the liquid agony that had seared her. Even the time she'd spent inside the Doctor's timeline falling through the vortex hadn't felt her like this had, oh it had burned and pulled and torn her apart, but somehow this had been worse.

Her legs swung over the bed and she stared at her hands, expecting to see the golden glow of regeneration energy as she had seen on him that fateful day she'd lost the man she'd truly married; only nothing happened, it was just skin and it all felt the same. Clara reached for the medical scanner, pulling it to her and not even needing to programme it, the TARDIS seemed to know exactly what she needed, clearly she'd been watching over her as the Doctor slumbered.

"You won't find anything." His voice startled her and Clara looked up, surprised to find him standing ramrod straight inches from the bed. This version of him seemed to be able to move like a cat, whereas his last self had been more of a giraffe... a clumsy one. It was unsettling as she stared at him.

She hesitated, her voice felt raw and speaking only confirmed it. "Am I...?" she trailed off not even sure what to ask.

"You're fine." He replied his expression looking drawn and the lines on his face seemed more pronounced as he ran a hand through his silver mop of hair, she wondered how long she'd been here, he looked exhausted which was saying something for a man that could get by on a few hours of sleep every few weeks.

"How long has it been?" she asked, avoiding the elephant in the room, happy in her ignorance for a little longer as her brain threatened to leap into overdrive.

He sighed, taking a cautious step towards her, his hand reached out and she almost flinched, schooling the impulse before either he or her body recognised it; his fingers brushed the skin of her face, examining her quietly before he settled for simply stroking her hair. "Too long." Before gently leaning in to drop an achingly familiar kiss to her forehead.

Clara dropped her head, forcing back tears at the melancholy that gesture was still able to bring and at the implications of everything she knew he wasn't saying; he was shaken to his core, that much was clear, enough to forget himself for a moment it seemed. Her eyes lifted when she felt confident enough to meet his again without them giving her away, "I remember... well I remember a lot of pain," she admitted and his lips were a thin grimace, but he didn't interrupt "I remember the regeneration energy," hardly an adequate word that 'remember', it had coursed into her and she'd felt like she had caught fire, like she was a rocket being propelled into the stratosphere by the unfathomable power of it. Spontaneous combustion she thought would have been kinder... she wondered what it had formed of her out of the ashes.

"It changed me." She knew the truth of it, had felt the intensity of his need for her to understand that part of it at least as she caught his suddenly retreating hands in hers, forcing him to acknowledge this moment, and her words that weren't really a question, but clearly they had compelled him to answer.

"You were dying." He replied, which was hardly an answer at all, and yet it was everything he needed to tell her.

Clara tugged at his hands again, forcing him to look at her. "Why don't I feel any different?" she asked the feeling of 'fine' from before hadn't abated and it left her unsettled. She wasn't fine.

He shrugged. "What did you expect to feel?" his answer seemed pointed, accusatory almost.

"Different." She bit back, unsurprised at how hostile he had turned almost at a glance, and whether he knew it or not, just how guilt stricken he looked. Clearly this was eating him up, probably no doubt warring with his inner nature to celebrate the ability that he once again beat back death, to make the Universe bend to his will... the Time Lord Victorious.

"Ah." He murmured. "Like perhaps we all go around aware of our differences, perhaps a Slitheen feels how un-Sontaran he is?" he was laughing at her she realised, mocking at the very least, she felt a pudding brain comment coming on. He dropped her hands and turned away from her reaching out for one of the draws and withdrawing a scalpel. It was a sign of trust she thought, particularly given the recent circumstances, that she didn't immediately flinch back away from him as he held it out to her. "May I?" he held his hand out to her.

Clara eyed the invitation warily before extending her hand to him which he immediately grasped and turned palm up keeping his eyes fixed on her as he deftly lowered the blade and sliced deeply across the skin. She hissed, trying to pull her hand back and not being able to as his grip tightened and the pain radiated out. "Watch." He intoned and she had to fight to tear her eyes from his face, to take in the sight of her blooded skin; the golden tendrils were hardly noticeable she realised in fascination, barely a glimmer, but the effect they had was clear as she watched the skin effortlessly knit back together. He smiled quietly, satisfied as he ran his thumb over the palm smearing the blood away to reveal flawless skin.

"Perfect." He murmured and she withdrew her hand quickly from him, holding it herself and rubbing her finger over the nonexistent wound, the phantom sting of the pain it had felt slower to retreat.

He was anxious, she could feel the tension radiating from him as he tried to remain still, waiting for her response. Clara honestly didn't know what to think, let alone feel. A moment ago from her perspective she had been dying... and God had it felt like it; perhaps it hadn't been all that brave but in those agonising moments she'd felt willing to do anything to make it stop; because she hadn't been willing to go, not yet, she'd wanted to live. Her head raised to his pinning him with her gaze, he didn't quite meet it and she had to ask, had to voice the question buzzing inside her brain from the snatches of memories she had outside of the pain.

"You wanted it to sting me." The accusation fell heavy between them and she watched his lip twitch, just a fraction but she knew that tick well enough. Knew the repressed snarl he gave when he was caught out. She was certain he had set this up, everything had been too ready, if not the sting then something. He'd wanted something, anything, to give him a reason to put an end to her humanity, to the threat of it stealing her away from him. She wasn't an idiot she knew how protective he'd been how fixated on every bump and injury she'd picked up recently. But the idea was much like the sting had been, spreading like poison within her and she hastily pushed it away, willing to believe the excuse she knew he was going to throw at her, desperate to believe anything but what she suspected.

"No." He admitted and she prepares herself to yell, "I just didn't stop it." His honesty in that moment utterly deflates her, all the righteous indignation and anger literally bleeding out of her with the impact of his words... the inevitability of them. She wasn't even surprised by it and there was something terribly depressing in that realisation.

"You've remade me." She added quietly, wondering if she'd known before; if she'd really experienced the truth of this version of him when she'd made her vows if she wouldn't have hesitated longer. She didn't bother to ask if it was because he thought she hadn't been good enough before, because clearly she hadn't, mortal was never going to be enough, never had been.

"I saved you." He barked back unapologetically as he reached for her and she let him grasp her arms tightly, trying to overpower her mentally and physically with his insistence that she understand that at least; she would have been more offended but he still bore the exhaustion of his time spent waiting for her to wake which took some of the bite from it. Instead Clara merely glared defiantly up at him, feeling warm tears splash down her face and suddenly she wasn't sure if she was crying for herself or for him at this point.

"You didn't give me a choice." She tries one more time, wanting even a flicker of a conscience to present itself across his features, some measure of regret for the way he had done it.

"You had a choice, you chose." He snapped his grip tightening as if he wants so shake his truth into her; she shakes her head sadly, as if in her pain filled state she had been of sound mind to chose anything other than relief?

The words flew from her, "I chose to live. Not whatever the hell this is!" she shoved his hands free of her, not wanting to feel his touch in that moment as fury swiped at her in response to his steadily tripping heartbeats, "And the only reason I had to make a choice at all was because you put me in that position!" She stabbed at his chest with her finger, her anger rebuilding with his utter lack of empathy; she wanted to throttle him she realised feeling her fingers itching to wipe the indignant look off his face.

"You're alive enough to hate me, be grateful." He hissed, his nose almost hitting hers with his current intensity, in that moment she wondered if she did hate him, just a little, it would be so easy too. But even this was a lie, he was pushing, he wanted her to hate him right now, wanted her to vent and get it out of her system; because he clearly wasn't going to feel guilty about this, not yet.

"You manipulative bastard." She hissed growing wise to him and he opened his mouth to respond; fortunately the TARDIS chose that moment to shake violently, throwing them both off their feet. She slammed hard into a wall, wincing and instantly feeling relief from the receding pain of it with a groan of unease. But the TARDIS didn't stop. "What the hell is it?" she yelled, seeing him struggling to his feet and lurching at a panel in the wall.

"Oh." He muttered quietly at the display and shot her a nervous look.

"Don't 'oh' me!" she snapped. "Out with it?"

"We might have drifted..." he shot her a dark look and without pausing darted past her out into the TARDIS, probably heading for the console room.

Clara stumbled to her feet finding them remarkably stable as she chased after him, "Drifted where... when?" she called after him almost in afterthought as she processed just how bad this could be and pushing aside their current issues and her spiralling unease with what he'd most likely let happen to her... or planned. 'God please don't let him have planned this, let me be wrong'. A violent pitch almost propelled her into a wall and she well and truly focussed on surviving the next few minutes as the entire TARDIS seemed to be shaking and groaning, her lights whirring as Clara fought to keep her balance. By the time she'd reached the console room he was tearing around the centre like a man possessed, slamming switches and battling the small fire that seemed to have broken out.

"Fire!" he bellowed at her, as if she was supposed to do something about that with her bear hands. As if on cue the fire dampners exploded from the walls, filling the entire console with a white cloud of vapour which she struggled through to the console, gripping it tightly for dear life.

"How bad?" she barked above the din, grasping a couple of controls and trying to assist in stabilising whatever the hell this was.

He gave her a sharp somewhat worried but mostly excited look which only irritated her. "We might have drifted through the time vortex whilst I was asleep, the Old Girl and I might have had a disagreement and disconnected our telepathic interface." Her raised and expectant eyebrow said it all about that little insight and he opened his mouth to speak when what was unmistakabely a roar rattled the TARDIS and her bones; they both gripped onto the console for dear life as they seemed to be shaken soundly. It stopped and she stared wide eyed at the door listening to the unmistakeable sounds of something large and pounding with a growing sense of horror. So of course he stood casually, flaring out his jacket as if he had this all under control. "Also we might have been in Earth's Jurassic period."

Clara balked. "Fix it." She hissed, "Before something eats us." She managed with only a small quiver in her voice. She'd very recently almost died, she wasn't keen to repeat the experience.

He frowned. "I think it might be a bit late for that... besides I said been, past tense, I managed to hop us forward a few millennia." He murmured a little smugly now which hardly suited the situation as the console let out a bang and something else exploded into flames, making them both recoil and almost bump into each other in their haste to back away from the fire control sprays. Her lungs were starting to burn she realised as he gripped her around the waist... which would have been fine, if those same lungs didn't feel absolutely fine seconds later, only to start to burn again... then fine again. It was a stark reminder of the situation she was still experiencing and the argument they'd been forced to abandon.

"Ok we need to get out of here. Or vent the smoke." Clara grasped his hand, dragging him towards the doors as the console was currently engulfed in a war between flames and smoke. The Doctor didn't protest as he followed close behind her. "Tell me it's not prehistoric out there?" she caught his chin focusing it on her, as his eyes darted about his beloved TARDIS which seemed to be in a hell of a state, distracted.

"No no, like I said, I hopped us out of there. Made the timorous beastie expel us."

"Expel?" she managed breathless, remembering he'd responded somewhat darkly to her comment about something 'eating' them.

"Technically vomited. Undignified but effective." He grumbled, ducking on instinct as a part of the upper galley seemed to fall away in a creak of metal that made her shriek and had her turning to the door in a hurry. Which was right about when it knocked. Several times.

"Hello?" A confident male voice barked through the wood, "Exit the box, and surrender to the glory of the Sontaran empire."

Clara blinked, "Strax?" she managed weakly recognising the dulcet tones, as if the words hadn't been clue enough as she stared up at the Doctor who grimaced slightly.

"Ok, so I might have hopped us a little further forward than I'd intended, in my defence I'm sleep deprived and there was... is a fire." He glanced once back at the blaze and with a grimace pulled open the door and stuck his head out, "Hello Grumpy!" he declared striding out, his hand trailing until it caught around hers and dragged her with him. The smoke was still cloying at her throat so she shut the door in a hurry, sealing it in and trying not to touch it too much noting in disgust that it was coated in what had to be saliva... or something else equally revolting. She also tried to ignore the Doctor as he deliberately moved to greet, or possibly antagonise the two women dressed in Victorian garb who were standing staring at him open mouthed as he got right up into their faces and declared them 'the green-one' and 'not the green-one.'

"Clara." Vastra's eyes alighted on her and then back onto what she correctly seemed to assume was the Doctor despite what to her was the new face, "Doctor? You've regenerated." she asked lightly just as a dinosaurs roar bellowed out, all but shaking the ground they were standing on as Clara glanced up at the gigantic creature that it would seem they had inadvertently dumped in Victorian London with a sinking sense of horror. Her mouth opened but she honestly had no words.

The Doctor didn't seem to have the same problem. "Oh, you've got a dinosaur too!" he declared in delight at their bemused faces, "Oi big man shut it!" he shouted back at the creature. The dinosaur bellowed again and the Doctor broke out into a grin. "Big woman, right, sorry!" Clara blinked trying to digest the fact that he spoke dinosaur with her usual air of 'slip that into the not important right now' category.

"Doctor, the dinosaur, did you...?" Vastra mostly got his attention back from the massive creature stalking the Thames as she indicated his somewhat battered looking TARDIS.

"Slight miscalculation." He muttered, "Turn them down would you." Vastra blinked clearly thrown by the sudden change in topic. "Reduce the frequency of those sonic lanterns, you're giving her... and me a headache." He grumbled, massaging his temples.

"How do you know?" Strax asked what Clara considered would have been the sensible question in anyone else but the Doctor's presence.

The Doctor merely glared at him. Vastra cut the glare short. "Jenny, be a dear go and inform the Inspector that we need to drop the frequency back somewhat, you'll probably have to show him, poor man thinks their magic boxes. We'll meet you back at the house." Jenny nodded once, looking thoroughly bemused between the Doctor, the dinosaur and Clara, which given the alternatives made Clara touch her hair in mild alarm realising she must have looked a state to compete for attention given the crowd.

But Vastra's attention was fixed on the Doctor, which at least was par for the course, "So then... a new face Doctor. Shall we get to know one another a little better?" Vastra smiled thinly at him, but her expression quite clearly said 'here we go again' as she indicated they should follow her. Clara suppressed the desire to warn her for that moment, she needed them to have faith that this new man was the Doctor if they were going to treat him like it, they didn't need her throwing a bucket of cold hard realisation over it; but it made her stomach roil with unease because they really had no idea.