Chapter 8: February 7, 2033

By all accounts, turning eighteen was a milestone that was worth celebrating.

His anxiety about attending his daughter's birthday celebration was twofold. Firstly, he was worried about the gift that he had brought for May. He had been agonizing over it for weeks now and could only hope she would at least appreciate the sentimentality. She had mentioned to him that she loved to journal—something he was sure her mother had instilled in her—and so he'd gone out and bought her an antique quill pen complete with its own ink and a leather-bound journal to compliment it. Maybe it was a bit much, but he'd missed out on so many of her birthdays that he felt he had to compensate.

But that wasn't entirely where his nervous energy lay. He also was anxious about seeing Clara. After the almost kiss on New Year's Eve, she had been called away on a Torchwood mission which had kept her busy up to now. Matt was happy that this had led to May spending all those weeks with him in his flat, but it had left a tension between him and Clara. A tension he was afraid to break.

A tension that had been made worse when Clara had first told him about why she was leaving. It hadn't escaped his notice that she had before then avoided talking about what she did for work. To say that he was surprised when she confessed that she was a Torchwood agent was an understatement. And in that surprise, he supposed he hadn't reacted as well as he should have, and the argument that had ensued was the first one they'd had since she had come back into his life.

He had forgotten how heated their arguments could get.

"John, for the last time, Jack himself trained me. I know it's dangerous, but I do so much good. I was part of the mission that resulted in the all-clear for you to come home!" Her eyes had flashed with hurt and anger as she rebutted his attempts to persuade her to leave her position.

"But what if you were hurt or—or captured or killed?" he had demanded stubbornly. "What would happen to May?" What would happen to him? He didn't voice that thought, but he had to admit that it was purely fear, rather than any sort of logic, that motivated him to argue against her.

They hadn't come to any sort of conclusion on that particular Wednesday evening, and he'd left her home in a huff. But not before a wide-eyed May had run from the house to catch up with him as he made his way to his car.

Matt had felt a pang of guilt when he caught the fear written across her face. "Where are you going?" she asked, and he had seen the slight tremble in her lips as she suppressed that fear.

He had let out a weary sigh and pulled her close to him. "Don't worry, love, I'm not disappearing just getting some space. Your mum and I had a disagreement is all. It's not the first time we've argued, and we'll sort it out. We just need a little time apart, yeah? You're still welcome to come over Saturday."

His heart had squeezed as he looked down into his daughter's still worried face. "Will you be coming to dinner Sunday?"

He had given her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and tapped her nose with his pointer finger. "It's a promise."

Now, hesitating on her doorstep as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, Matt deeply regretted the way he had acted the last time he'd seen her. He had spoken to Amy in the interim, and she had knocked some sense into him. He didn't know the whole story behind Clara's decision to join Torchwood, nor did he fully know what it had been like for her while she was in hiding. And who was he to throw stones? He hadn't been the poster boy for good choices while they'd been apart.

Matt sucked in a breath all the way down to his toes before finally mustering up the courage to knock on her door.

"Matt, you made it!" It was David who answered and pulled him into a hug. "Come in."

He followed his dad into the house and was quickly met in a tackle by a streak of dark hair in a birthday hat. "You came!" May crowed as she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"Of course I came!" he shouted back as he returned her embrace. He handed her the wrapped gift. "Happy birthday, Darling."

She smiled brightly at him and jumped up on her toes to kiss his cheek. His heart instantly melted. "Thank you," she said as she spun on her heel and bounded over to a small table filled with gifts. "Everyone is out in the back garden."

Matt nodded and allowed her to take his hand and drag him outside where music was playing. The festivities were clearly in full swing. Besides his own family, he noted several youthful faces that he assumed belonged to May's classmates—among them, Melody Pond. The lot of them were sequestered away from the adults with some party game in the center of the group.

In his peripheral, he caught Clara walking over with a drink for him in hand. "Here," she said.

He nodded as he accepted the cup. "Thank you."

The tension between them was still palpable, and he quickly looked away from her into the distance.

"Matt—"

"Clara, I'm sorry," he said, and forced himself to meet her eyes. He found surprise there. "I had no right to judge you for your job. Clearly, you've managed well enough—I mean, look." He cocked his head toward where their daughter was laughing as she tugged on a young man's arm. He narrowed his eyes a little. Best keep an eye on that one.

She let out a breath that she had clearly been holding for a while. "I suppose I did." She chuckled as she followed his gaze. "Course, it wasn't easy. Thank goodness I had your parents, or I would've been lost. Especially during the teenage years."

He moved to say more, but she became distracted by the vibration of her phone.

"Oh, that's—ah. Excuse me."

He blinked and watched her disappear into the house before he walked over to settle in next to Amy.

She jostled his shoulder a bit and raised a curious eyebrow. "So?" she asked. "You two kiss and make up?"

He grimaced at her phrasing. "There was no kissing, but yes. I apologized."

"Good." His Pond gave an approving nod before shooting him a wily grin. "What do you make of Tyler over there?"

"Tyler?" he asked and glanced in the direction of her gaze. "Oh, the boy next to May? I haven't met him."

Amy chuckled. "Oh, best keep an eye on that one, Raggedy Man. From what Melody tells me he's carrying quite the torch for May."

"Is he?" Matt turned his eyes back around to scrutinize the young man further. "I'll have to introduce myself."

Amy gave his arm a pat and settled deeper into her chair, clearly pleased with herself. "Do you remember ever being that young?"

He laughed. "Oh, I dunno. I seem to remember one or two things from back then. Wasn't it your eighteenth birthday when we got kicked out of the Roman Army Museum because you just had to have a picture with your arm around one of the mannequins?"

"Oi! It's not like I was actually touching the thing." Amy's lower lip jutted into a pout. "That docent was so uptight."

Matt laughed again and pulled her to his side as best he could with their chair armrests between them. "I missed having you around, Pond. Remind me never to delay coming home from being on the run again."

She rolled her eyes. "I could've told you that ages ago, yah moron."

They both looked up as Clara stepped back out of the house. "Could I have everyone's attention?" she called out loudly enough that all eyes turned to her. She bit her lip in a nervous gesture Matt was all-too familiar with. "I have a bit of a surprise." She opened the back door wider, and out stepped the last person Matt expected to see.

Jack Harkness gave his best megawatt smile. "Anyone miss me?"

"Jack!" Amy cried, and was the first to reach him as everyone else leapt to their feet.

"Uncle Jack!" he heard May squeal as she rushed past him to join Amy. For his part, Matt was slowly making his way toward the crowd that now gathered around one of his best friends.

At first sight, seeing Jack brought up all sorts of memories for Matt—most of them good. His mind did flashback to the last time he'd seen him in that little hotel before Jack had been whisked off into hiding, but he chose not to dwell on that. Jack was here, which meant his family was all together again for the first time in eighteen years. His heart began to beat out an excited rhythm and he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Smithy!"

"Jack!" He accepted the hug Jack offered, and then stepped back to look into his face again. "I didn't think anyone knew how to find you."

"Well, I gave this one instructions to be used in an emergency." He pointed toward Clara. "She sent me a message when you arrived back home, but it took me a while to get it." Matt caught a flash of something pass through Jack's eyes, but it was gone too quickly for him to read it. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you, Matthew." He turned to May then. "And you, little miss May! Happy birthday!"

The party really took off then, and it was a long while before he got to speak to Jack again, surrounded as he was by other family with a million questions. He was patient, though, and as the night wore on and the crowd began to thin, he found himself sitting on the back porch with Jack while the remaining family saw the kids off on their adventure into the city.

"I hear they're planning to go dancing somewhere," Jack said as they sipped punch out of red plastic cups. "Do you remember when Amy used to drag Rory out with us on Friday nights after classes at Uni?"

Matt chuckled. "Poor Rory, we really put him through it."

Jack let out his own laugh. "Yeah." He looked down into his cup. "You know, I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I was, Matt. For not telling you about Clara."

Matt swallowed down more of his punch and shook his head. "You kept her safe—kept both of them safe. I would have been angrier if you had told me." He glanced over at Jack and took in the weathered look of his face. "But, Jack, where have you been? We've all been worried."

His friend exhaled slowly. "I was chasing River Song. I knew that the only way that you and Clara and the lot of us would be safe was if she was captured."

"Did you find her?" Matt asked when he didn't continue.

Jack nodded. "Several times, but she kept slipping away. That is, until Clara came to find me on this last expedition."

Matt blinked. "That's where she went?" He couldn't keep the anger from creeping into his voice. The very idea made his heart stop. Capable as she clearly was, Matt didn't like the idea of Clara being anywhere near River Song.

"Don't be angry with her, Smith," Jack chastised. "Clara has had to make a lot of very difficult choices while the two of you have been apart. Did she tell you that River showed up and threatened her not long after May was born?" He raised an eyebrow in challenge and continued when Matt said nothing. "She joined Torchwood because she wanted to be able to protect herself and the people she loved. She knew the only way to do that was to hunt down members of the Silence; including River. Do you think she would take such a dangerous job otherwise?"

Matt blushed with embarrassment over his initial reaction. Jack's words cut through that stubborn reignited anger of his and got it to properly dissipate. Of course, Clara would only join Torchwood in an effort to protect the people she cared about most. It was in her nature. How many times had she made similar efforts for him before they had been separated?

His shoulders hunched as he deflated. "Of course she wouldn't." He froze then as something else Jack had said registered. "Wait, River kept getting away until this last mission you were on? You found her?"

Jack nodded; his face grim. "We did. We caught up to her in this massive library, and…well…she died, Matt."

Matt's breath caught in his throat, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at this news. Although it had been many years since he had felt anything akin to affection for River, the news of her death did sadden him—if only a little.

"I see," he said lamely, and looked up as Clara opened the back door to join them on the porch.

Her arms were crossed over her chest. "Aren't you boys cold out here?" She nodded back into the house. "Come inside. Everyone else has gone home."

Jack stretched as he stood. "Actually, Clair-bear, I best be going too. I have a few things to do before I get settled back into my flat." He shot Matt a significant look as he passed Clara into the house. "You two be on your best behavior, yeah?"

Both he and Clara blushed as they followed him inside. "Alright, goodnight."

"Night!" He shot them both a wink as he spun out of the front door.

Clara chuckled as she locked it, and turned back to Matt.

He swept a hand toward the dishes that had yet to make it into the kitchen. "Want some help?"

She waved it off with a hand. "Leave it for tomorrow." Instead, she beckoned for him to join her on the couch, grabbing two glasses as she left the dining room. "Bring that bottle of wine that's sitting over there."

He did as she asked and watched her pour each glass before speaking. "Clara, I'm so sorry. I know I said it earlier, but I am, truly. I'd never considered why you would've joined Torchwood in the first place."

She snorted. "Jack told you about the time River cornered me in a grocery store, didn't he?"

Matt froze. "She did what?"

"Ah, he must have been a tad more vague." Clara waved a hand to dismiss what she'd just said. "Don't worry, I handled it fine. May was nowhere near me at the time."

Matt reached for her hand, and she allowed him to lace their fingers together. "I haven't asked you about what it was like for you, after…well, after. I should have." He cast his eyes away from her as guilt bubbled up in his stomach. "But I'm listening now," he said, and squeezed the hand he was holding.

He looked up to find her biting down on her lower lip. "I'll tell you all of it someday, but not now." She looked down at their joined hands. "Right now, I'd rather focus on what happens next."

His heartbeat picked up as butterflies fluttered in his chest. "What happens next?"

"With us," she finished, as if it was obvious. "We keep dancing around it, but I need to know. Where do we stand, Doctor?"

Her brown eyes were so full of the same anxiety he was feeling. "Where do you want us to stand, Clara?"

She pulled her hand away, and the movement stung him. "Don't do that." Her tone was flat. "Don't put it all on me. Tell me what you want."

He raised his eyebrows. "I think I've made it pretty clear what I want—or did you miss the almost-kiss from New Year's Eve?"

Clara blinked, and then her brow crinkled. "How am I supposed to assume what that was? How am I meant to know what you want if you don't tell me?"

"Well, why don't you tell me?" he demanded. "I've yet to hear or see what you want, Clara. From where I stand, I've not seen you make a single move to indicate whether you want us to try this again or not."

"Because I was afraid you didn't want me!" she shouted. "I know we have May. I know that we'll always be connected in that way, but it's been eighteen years. I haven't made a move because I didn't want you to think I wanted us to be together just because we share a daughter."

She set her wine glass down with a thud and kept her eyes away from his own. "I…I do love you, Matt. How could I not? Everything I've done has been to make my way back to you. To bring both me and May home to you. But how am I to assume that you still feel the same, when it's been so long? When…" she trailed off, and he hated to see tears welling up in her eyes.

Matt had sat frozen during her speech, but now got himself to move—slowly, ever so slowly so as not to scare the moment away he reached out to cup her face with one hand in order to turn her eyes back to him. His heart swelled when she instinctively leaned into his touch, and he thumbed away a tear that had escaped onto her cheek.

"My impossible girl," he murmured. "You've saved me so many times, and in so many ways. How could I not love you?"

He wasn't sure exactly who leaned in first, but in a flash, they crashed together—lips moving on lips and hands clutching bodies closer together. Matt's senses were overwhelmed by the feeling of her breath on his skin in between kisses, her hands roving from his hair down over his chest, only to lock around his neck so she could press herself even closer against him. For his part, he kept one hand firmly pressed against the small of her back while the other tangled itself in her thick locks.

Her scent was everywhere around him, and he thought back to every time he'd allowed himself to fantasize this moment. Every late night where even just the ghost of her memory came forth to comfort him into sleep—every lonely moment he'd spent living in the home that they had shared. None of them compared to this, and yet again he felt another piece of him snap back into place.

For the first time in a long time, he felt complete.