AN: I should have written these chapters as scripts I realised once I finished this one.

Lunch

Oftentimes, Jenny would walk the long way around the TARDIS interior to leave, to avoid people prying into her business. But in this case, she didn't think she minded anyone finding out what she was up to, so she actually went through Nerve Centre. And all the better for it, ultimately, because she walked in on a huddle of gossiping women in their late twenties and early thirties (and Donna), and she might as well not even be on a state-of-the-art alien spaceship. She might as well be in a cheap nightclub on a Saturday eavesdropping on a hen party. As soon as they saw her come into the room, just to get a drink before she left, they all fell silent.

"…What?" she looked between the faces of all four of them.

"What?" Rose asked her.

"You all stopped talking when I came in," Jenny said. The other three, Martha, Donna and Amy, were avoiding meeting her gaze. Martha was looking into her tea and Amy was staring at the lock screen on her phone as though there was something profoundly interesting on it, instead of just her wallpaper, which was a photo of she and Rory on their wedding day. "You lot always leave me out of your girly stuff!" Jenny began to whinge, feeling excluded.

"It's not that," Martha argued, "It's just… we were…"

"We're playing this game where we guess things about Clara and then ask her whenever she can be bothered getting out of bed," Rose said.

"Says you, you only got up half an hour ago, it's nearly one," Amy pointed out.

"At least I haven't been sat in here on my own for ages," Rose snapped.

"I haven't been on my own, Martha's been here, and we were watching Four in a Bed." Four in a Bed was actually still on, being projected into the centre of the room via the holobox, and Amy's eyes kept straying onto it because she really wanted to watch some posh people get ripped into for having a pube in one of their showers.

"What kind of things are you guessing about Clara?" Jenny inquired.

"Just stuff," said Donna.

"Right… stuff…"

"Well, anyway, you can't play, because she's your girlfriend so you can cheat," Rose said.

"That's not fair!" Jenny protested, "I don't want to be left out. I don't know everything about Clara. There's plenty of things I could guess at. Let me play. I promise I won't spoil it if I do know the answer." She pulled over a chair, being careful to avoid all of the roaming kittens and jump tactfully out of the way when the black one swiped for her foot. She wedged herself in between Donna and Amy, which either meant they were going to be forced to let her play or all forced to move. And they were too lazy to move.

"Fine," Rose sighed.

"We were guessing what the weirdest place she's had sex is," Amy explained, locking her phone again and picking up her coffee. Jenny shifted so that she was sitting on the stool with her legs crossed, mainly to keep out of the way of the Maine Coon, which had attacked her on sight every other time she had been in the same room as it.

"That's a good one, I don't know it," Jenny beamed. She was already having plenty of fun speculating about the personal business of the woman she loved, cashing in on her girlfriend to gain a place in the amusement of her flatmates.

"I reckon it's... in a hospital bed. While she was a patient," Martha said, "I've caught that happening before. It's more common than you think."

"Toilet of an aeroplane," Amy decided.

Donna scoffed, "That's not weird." Everyone looked at her. "…What?"

"You've…? Done it? On a plane?" Rose asked in a whisper, even though there wasn't anybody else in the room. Adam Mitchell had spent the entire morning doing the washing up with soap and sponges taken from his own room, and had since disappeared back to Oswin.

"Have you never heard of the Mile High Club? It's very common," said Donna.

"Amazing," Martha said, "You think you know someone, and then they…"

"Impress you?" Donna suggested wryly. The girls all made half-hearted noises of agreement, with Donna swelling with pride and not picking up on their underlying sarcasm. Unless she just didn't want to pick up on it, which was fair enough, given the circumstances.

"Wait a minute," Jenny started, thinking, "I might know the answer."

"Oh?" Rose asked.

"But I might not."

"Tell us," Amy urged her.

"She's always going on about this time she was backstage at a burlesque show and she got off with two of the female dancers in the dressing room during the intermission when she was twenty-one. There's that one and the ballet dancer I never hear the end of. And the underwear model. And Jane Austen," she said the last one very bitterly.

"Seriously? She's done that?" Rose asked in disbelief, "The stripper one, not the… other ones."

"Burlesque and stripping aren't the same thing," Amy said.

"You'd know."

"I do know."

"Well, exactly," Rose said, "Point proven."

"What point?"

"The point that you… know."

"…Right…"

"I don't think it's very weird, though," Jenny interjected, "The hospital bed one is weirder."

"How about," Amy began, "Under one of the tables at a wedding reception, while people were still there. Probably during the speeches."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she did that at her own wedding," Rose commented.

"I would be," Donna said, "Since we were all there at her wedding."

"We were quite drunk though," Martha said, "She could have slipped off."

"Under the top table at her own wedding? No one noticed that the bride vanished?" Jenny asked.

"Well just at a wedding, then," Amy said, "But under the table."

"I think it was while swimming with sharks," Donna said, triggering mass protests and objections from the others.

"That's ridiculous, you cannot have sex with someone while swimming with sharks," Martha said, "It would probably agitate the sharks, for one thing."

"Not if you were having sex with a shark," Jenny said knowingly.

"She's your girlfriend, do you think she's capable of doing it with a shark?"

"Do you mean physically or emotionally capable? Because physically, we're probably all capable," Jenny said, "To be honest, though, if she was in one of those cages, so she was safe from the sharks, she probably wouldn't care. Not if she was doing it. She never cares about anything going on around her when she's doing it, she once threw her phone at the wall because it rang while I was..." she cleared her throat and did not finish her sentence, much to the relief of the others, who did not want to know exactly what Jenny had been doing to Ravenwood.

Amy turned to Donna and asked, "But wouldn't you have a scuba suit on if you were swimming with sharks?"

Donna shrugged, "Depends." She seemed to know a very worrying amount about copulating with somebody while swimming with sharks.

"…So you're sticking with the sharks?" Rose asked. Donna nodded. "Right… who's gonna ask her when she comes in, then?"

"Martha should ask," Amy said.

"What? Why me?" Martha complained.

"She fancies you."

"Okay, first of all, Clara fancies everyone," Jenny said, "But I agree, Martha should ask."

"No! It's Rose's game, she should ask. What do I even care the weirdest place Clara Oswald's done it is? It seems like Donna's done it in way weirder places," Martha said. Donna pretended she hadn't heard that remark.

"Ooh, hello," Amy said quietly when the doors into Nerve Centre slid open, "Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear." Rose and Donna sniggered. Jenny couldn't tell if she was doing something immoral by joining in with all this or not. Clara herself walked in, and shocked Jenny by actually being dressed and made up, like she was going somewhere.

"Morning, Clara," Rose called brightly, smiling and waving. Clara stopped dead, and looked at the five of them very suspiciously, holding a mug in her hands.

"…What…?" she narrowed her eyes, as yet completely oblivious to the lot of them judging her for things she may or may not have done.

"What's the weirdest place you've ever had sex?" Rose asked outright without even trying to be subtle.

"Oh," said Clara, then she paused in thought. They all watched her intently. Realistically, there were a billion possibilities for the answer to this question, and the likelihood of one of them guessing it (even Jenny) was infinitesimally small. And accordingly, none of them did guess it. "Jet-ski."

"A jet-ski?" Jenny gawked at her. Clara nodded.

"But, like, it was parked?" Martha said.

"Oh, no, it was on this lake at like, fifty miles an hour," Clara said, "It was with a boy, so it was easier than if it had been a girl. There were loads of people around so we had to go quickly so that no one noticed."

"Not in the back of a burlesque club with two dancers?" Donna inquired, and Jenny went red when Clara's jaw dropped and she shot a very accusatory look in her guilty direction.

"Have you been telling them stuff about me!?"

"No!" Jenny lied, "I can't believe you had sex in the back of a burlesque club with two dancers and I absolutely never knew anything about it until this exact second when Donna gave a very lucky guess!"

"You should not violate your girlfriend's trust like that," Clara said, "You better come clean about this all and say sorry to her." Jenny looked down at the table in front of her and didn't say anything else.

"See? Now the sharks don't seem that weird," Donna said.

"The sharks are definitely still weird," Amy told her. Clara asked what was all this about sharks, so they explained Donna's unusual remarks to her and she was just as perplexed as the rest of them.

"Did you actually do that? See, I've never done that," Clara said, "I tried in the sea one time and I got an infection, and it wasn't even really in the sea, it was on a beach and the tide started to come in."

"We're sure you have plenty of infections," Martha said boredly, "What about in a hospital?"

"Uh, I was dating a porter and we did it in a cleaning cupboard," Clara said.

"Aeroplane toilet?" Amy suggested. Clara laughed.

"With three different people. Not at the same time, like. There's not enough space for that. It was different occasions. That's not even weird; haven't you ever heard of the Mile High Club?"

"I told you lot," Donna said triumphantly, then went on to ask, "What about at a wedding?"

"At one wedding when I was a bridesmaid I slept with the best man."

"Oh, we've all done that," Martha said offhandedly, and everyone looked at her.

"No, we haven't," Rose said firmly. Unlike Clara, who would tell anyone more or less anything they wanted to know about her, Martha actually did get ashamed of them all judging her. Clara was far beyond caring what anybody thought of her sex life anymore. Anybody on the TARDIS, at least.

"Then at another wedding when I was a guest I slept with the maid of honour and the best man. At the same wedding, I mean. The bride and groom don't talk to me anymore…" she spoke as though she couldn't think of a single good reason why the bride and groom might not want her over-sexed person hanging around in a room full of their nearest and dearest friends and relatives and a great deal of alcohol.

"You're a monster," Rose said.

"We should have an intervention," Amy said.

"Thanks," Clara said.

"Well, then," Jenny finally talked again, beginning to get off her stool, "I was just leaving when you lot roped me into your game-"

"You begged us to join," Amy pointed out.

"There are two sides to every story," Jenny countered knowingly, "And I was just going because I wanted to catch something to cook for dinner, and I have to go get my rifle from Hollowmire without Ravenwood catching me first." She slipped out of the room very quickly, the black cat hissing from the sofa as she passed by.

"Did she say catch something to cook?" Rose whispered, and went ignored by everyone except Martha, though Martha just shrugged.

"So. What's up with you?" Amy asked Clara.

"Pardon?"

"Well, you're dressed, you only get dressed when you're going somewhere. Are you going to watch the football?"

"God, no. I have way better things to do. Like… I don't know. Wank, or something."

"You got dressed just to wank?" Rose frowned.

"Well, no, obviously not, that would be weird," said Clara, coming and leaning on the back of the sofa in front of their table, still holding her tea, "The wanking was hypothetical. I'm just going out."

"Out where?"

"Shopping."

"For what?"

"Why am I getting the third degree over here? Isn't a girl allowed to go out if she wants?" Clara said defensively. "I was just… going to look at wedding dresses."

"Without Oswin?" Martha joined the interrogation, "I thought she's your chief bridesmaid?"

"She is, but she's busy, and I have this… friend. I don't want to bother her with having to meet Oswin."

"Ooh, here we go, a friend," Donna said wryly, "Who is this friend?"

"Just a girl."

"Just a girl," Donna repeated, "It's never 'just a girl' with you."

"Well in this case it most certainly is just a girl, a friend I have from uni, her family on her mother's side run a bridal boutique, okay? I haven't seen her for years and she'll get me a discount," Clara said, "She's straight."

"Discount?" Rose was intrigued, "How much of a discount?"

"It doesn't matter, Adam Mitchell can pay for it," Clara said indifferently.

"Can't the TARDIS just make you a wedding dress?" Martha questioned.

"First of all, the TARDIS still hates me; second of all, probably, but I always daydreamed about going out and one day getting to pick my wedding dress, you know? And I don't care how upset Oswin is, the thought of taking her dress shopping is too much for me to stomach." In private and to herself alone, Clara wished that she had Thirteen there to take wedding dress shopping. Though, it was bad luck for the future-spouse to see the dress, so it was probably a thousand times worse for them to help choose it.

"So you're not gonna take anyone with you?"

"Who do you suggest I take?" Clara said, "I can't take the Doctor and I already said I'm not taking Oswin."

"I'll go," Rose volunteered, and they all looked at her. "What?"

"You'll… go? With… Clara? Shopping?" Martha asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Rose said, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because… you hate her?" Amy suggested.

"And you tried to kill her that time," Martha added.

"When I was on drugs," Rose said, "We all know we can't blame ourselves for things that happen involving Clara when we're on drugs. Isn't that right, Martha?" Martha said nothing.

"No, it's weird. Are you gonna murder her?" Amy persisted.

"Yes. I'm going to murder her."

"It's about time somebody murdered me," Clara said dryly, putting her dirty mug down on the table and fishing something out of her pocket. It looked, for the briefest second, like a new sonic screwdriver, and all of them were considering protesting about why they hadn't been given shiny new tools. But it wasn't a sonic.

"Is that an e-cigarette?" Martha asked, "Are you trying to quit?"

"No, it's just, he said I'm not allowed to smoke on the TARDIS because of something to do with ventilation," Clara said, plainly talking about the Doctor.

"At least e-cigs don't stink as much," Donna commented.

"Well, she's not the only one who needs a wedding dress," Rose said, "I mean, I haven't got one yet, and there's – what? A week and a half before the wedding?" Amy spat coffee all over the table; Clara dropped her e-cigarette and the cartridge fell out; Martha choked on a biscuit; Donna practically screamed.

"You only got engaged two weeks ago!"

"Hold on, hold on," Clara said like she couldn't understand what was happening, and they all stopped staring at Rose to stare at her instead while she searched her pockets for something else. They all watched Clara take out a packet of Marlboros and a flip lighter and light an actual cigarette. After she took quite a long drag on it, she looked at Rose and said, "Carry on."

"We just thought we'll do it as soon as possible," Rose said.

"Yeah but, there's 'as soon as possible' and then there's… less than a month," Martha said.

"They manage it on Don't Tell the Bride. The Doctor doesn't like the suspense. At least we haven't eloped while drunk."

"Hey!" Clara protested, "I didn't even say anything about you getting married quickly! It doesn't affect me and you're welcome to come and look at dresses if you want."

"Oh. Right. Well. I will. Anyone else want to come? We could do like that episode of Friends where they all buy wedding dresses and eat cake."

"I won't say no to a wedding cake," Amy said, "But I can't be bothered leaving."

"You can't be bothered doing anything these days," Martha muttered.

"I can! I go to the spa sometimes. And you can't blame me for being tired all the time, not when I get woken up by Rory when he hears people shagging. Which is all the time, Clara," she said very pointedly.

"We try to be quiet…" Clara mumbled.

"It's mainly been Jack he complains about recently, in fairness. Are you getting a cake, then?"

"Maybe you should get a cake if you want a cake so much," Rose snapped.

"Yeah, whatever. Are you leaving soon? Her fag stinks."

"Yes, alright," Rose got out of her chair, "We'll go. And we'll have loads of fun, too, just like the other night."

"Whoa, what were you doing with Clara 'the other night'?" Donna questioned.

"She was upset so we gate-crashed this party at Dean Martin's house in the 1950s," Clara explained, "It was great. We got kicked out. Then we went to this cabaret and one of the girls totally tried to finger me."

"She tripped over and knocked into you," Rose said, pulling on her jacket. While Rose wasn't paying attention, Clara did a rather grotesque mime where she nodded and then held up her own two fingers to indicate she was under the impression the girl definitely had tried to finger her. Not that any of them actually cared. "Where is this shop?"

"Leeds," said Clara.

"Leeds? You didn't say it was in Leeds."

"It's not that bad," Clara defended it somewhat.

"It is quite bad," Donna said knowingly.

"What do you lot know? You're all from London."

"Hey," Amy interjected.

"Except you."

"Thank you."

"She's bound to think Leeds is alright when she's from Blackpool," Martha jibed, and Rose and Donna sniggered.

"Very funny, you're all hilarious," Clara grumbled, "I'm leaving now."

"Wait for me," Rose said as Clara went to leave, and she just had to be extra about it and phase through the table, passing right through Jenny's empty chair between Donna and Amy. None of them had been expecting it, though Rose ignored her completely and eventually trailed after her and they both left the room. Only Donna, Martha and Amy were left behind, and Martha had only come there very briefly to find something to have for lunch.

"…I might leave, then," Martha got up gingerly from her chair, "If Rose has gone. And I have stuff to… talk to Mickey about."

"Oh yeah?" Amy asked, though she had her eyes on her phone.

"Yeah, why? Just stuff. Normal married stuff. No need to ask so many questions, god, I'm not hiding anything," Martha said very quickly. Amy and Donna glanced up at her. "…What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Bloody hell, this is like Guantanamo Bay. First Clara, now me."

"I don't think it's really the same – we're not grilling you about your sex life."

"No? Well, good. You'd better not be. Not that there's anything interesting about it, obviously, I barely even have a… sex life. Not for, bloody, years."

"Okay…" Amy watched her go, out of the opposite door to Rose and Clara, back into the Bedroom Circle. "That was weird, then."

"A week and a half until they get married…" Donna was still in shock.

"Do you think there'll be a free bar? I hope there's a free bar…" Donna said nothing, and then Amy looked at her, "Do you want to watch Take Me Out?"

"…Yeah, go on then. I'll make more tea."