Thank you for the reviews, sweeties :)

Chapter 4

5 Years Ago

"Artie, I need a favour," Clara half whispered when she had pulled the boy into the kitchen, away from the rest of the family who were still having breakfast in the living room. After a phone call with her best friend Amy and some advice she probably shouldn't follow, Clara had come up with a plan, but she needed someone with technical skill to help her carry it out. Artie seemed like exactly the right person to turn to.

The boy raised both his eyebrows at her, looking more than a little doubtful.

"I need you to sabotage the router for me," she told him, "Make it so it can't connect to the internet but, you know, like, doesn't break permanently. And it shouldn't be an easy fix like just plugging it out and back in again."

"Right, you're crazy" Artie said and shook his head before he started to make his way back into the living room.

"Wait," Clara said and caught him by the sleeve at the last moment, "I'm serious and I need you to do this for me."

"And why should I do that?" he asked, eyeing her with his suspicion.

Clara put her arms akimbo, looking down at him. "Because otherwise your Dad might find that video game I helped you buy that isn't quite yet suitable for your age."

Artie let out a groan. "That's blackmail."

She shrugged. "I'd like to think of it as more of a I did you a favour, now you're doing me one situation. So, can you do it before school?" Clara granted him a hopeful smile.

Artie simply rolled his eyes, dropped his schoolbag on the floor and trudged off into the corridor to where the router was. Clara put on a smug smile. Part one of her plan had worked.

She waited patiently until the children had left for school and Mr Maitland had gone to work for the day before Clara reached for her phone and unfolded the little piece of paper that she had kept on her pin board all week. She had glanced at it every day, telling herself that as soon as she had finished the rough draft of her thesis, she would call John Smith again. Now the moment had finally come and Clara felt just a little bit nervous even though she couldn't quite understand why. She didn't even know what the man looked like. She knew nothing about him other than his voice and that he could quote Jane Austen. But over the course of the last few days Clara had decided that those facts were enough and he was definitely worth another call.

"Dr John Smith?" he answered the phone only a few rings later. His voice sounded tired once more and Clara happily noted that she could add one more fact to her list – he was a doctor.

"Hi," she said nervously, "This is Clara Oswald."

"Ah, router girl," he said and she could hear some amusement in his voice, "How's the thesis going?"

He remembered. He actually remembered their conversation. Something about that fact made Clara's heart skip a little beat.

"It's going well, thanks to you," Clara replied, "No thanks to the router though. I'm sorry to call you again."

John chuckled. "Have you tried to unplug it?" he asked.

"I have, and it's not working," Clara complained, hoping that it really wasn't working. She had given Artie the instruction to make it so, but she hadn't bothered to double check.

"Have you tried resetting it?" John wanted to know.

Clara sighed audibly. "I think I did? I'm not sure," she lied, trying to sound as desperate as possible, "I've tried phoning the helpline. The real one. But they just put me on hold for almost an hour and then kicked me out. I have no idea how to do this computer. . . stuff."

John paused for a moment and Clara wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Would he tell her off for pestering him? Would he tell her to never call him again? Maybe she should have just asked him out instead of starting this silly game.

"Where do you live, Clara?"

His question took her by surprise. "Uhm," she hesitated, not really sure why he was asking, "Herne Hill. That's where I'm currently staying."

"Mh, that's not far," he said, "Listen, can you send your address to my phone? Uhm, that is if you're comfortable with a random stranger coming over to have a look at your router."

"Of course," Clara blurted out instantly. This was working out a lot better than she had expected. All she had really been hoping for was that he would help her over the phone and that they would have more time to get to know reach other, but she was very much okay with his suggestion as well. "Of course I am."

"Not exactly the answer I've been hoping to hear," John said warily, "Don't invite strangers into your home."

Clara giggled. "Why? Are you an axe murderer?"

"I could be," he argued.

"Doubt it," she replied, "Do you prefer tea or coffee?"

"Triple espresso. Made with Red Bull," he replied. "I'll be there in about 20 or 30 minutes."

"Filling the Red Bull into the coffee maker as we speak," she joked.

After they had hung up Clara texted him her address and set out to prepare the coffee and biscuits. She made it strong, but she doubted that John would actually expect it to be made with Red Bull. When everything was ready and Clara had double checked that unplugging the router really wouldn't bring the internet back, she allowed herself to take a deep breath. She was nervous, properly nervous. The man with the nice voice who had quoted Jane Austen to her a few days ago was on his way to her house and Clara had no idea what to expect at all. Then the doorbell rang and she knew that the moment had come. Either he would meet her expectations or not. She opened the door.

The man on her doorstep was probably in his early 50s, lean and tall and he had a curly mess of grey hair on top of his head while his chin was framed by an equally grey beard. His eyes were blue or green or grey, Clara couldn't quite tell. They had the colour of a stormy day out on the ocean. His smile was shy and boyish. Clara immediately determined that he was good looking and she definitely liked what she saw.

Then she noticed another thing. The lines on his face, the dark circles under his eyes. He seemed exhausted and all of a sudden she understood why he had asked for a triple espresso. She also felt a little bed for making him come all the way to her house when he was obviously tired, but when he smiled at her Clara's guilty conscience went out of the window.

"John Smith?" she asked and returned his smile.

"You must be router girl," he replied.

"Shush," she whispered, "That's my secret superhero name. To the world I am Clara Oswald."

John chuckled. "Of course. Don't want to reveal your secret identity to the neighbours," he said, "Alright, where is the patient?"

Clara waved him inside the house and shortly after John went to work on the device Artie had tampered with only hours ago while she set out to make a cup of coffee and prayed that John wouldn't realize she had staged the connectivity issues.

"Do you always do this sort of thing?" Clara found herself asking as she watched him work. The way he bent over to get a proper look at the cable mess gave her a nice view on his arse. She smirked. John seemed to have a really nice body as well as a nice, classic sense of dress.

"Special service for helpless Jane Austen fans," he explained and something happened to the router because a few seconds later the lights went off only to come back on, "There, should work now."

John turned around to look at her and Clara handed him his coffee mug with a smile.

"Thank you so much. You saved my thesis – again," she giggled nervously. It was a blatant lie because she was almost done with it except for the proofreading and some minor alterations, but this little trick had definitely been worth the effort. John Smith was here and when Clara looked at him she had this funny feeling inside her stomach, that little itch that told her she liked him.

"Is there a way I can say thank you?" she asked, beaming at him.

John let out a laugh. "I believe you just did."

"No, I mean buy you a coffee or something," Clara suggested and then she watched as he raised his coffee mug. They both laughed a little more and she tried her best not to feel like a silly idiot who was crushing on a man she had only just met.

"Okay," she giggled, "How about I raise that to coffee and chips?"

The smile faded from John's lips as his face took on a more serious expression. Something about that told her she was going to be snubbed by him. "I'd love to, Clara, really, but my work schedule doesn't really leave much time for a social life. I mostly work night shifts at the hospital."

"Oh," she uttered and her disappointment must have been obvious because John continued almost immediately.

"Unless you can get an afternoon off?" he asked hopefully.

Clara beamed at him. "No problem," she said and was happy to see that the smile returned to his face. She had a date and she was determined to do everything she could so it wouldn't be a one-off. John Smith was good looking, nice, a Jane Austen fan and he didn't have a ring on his finger. Clara would be stupid to let that one go.