DAY 2,236

Studies in Romantic Fiction

Ravenwood

The curtains hadn't been shut properly. A shaft of sunlight streaming through them and illuminating Jenny woke her up, clawed at her eyes, but she didn't look away because she liked how Jenny seemed to glow beneath the sun. Clara felt bad for keeping their living conditions so squalid ordinarily, anyway, and supposed the sun would be keeping Jenny warm. Warmer than she was, at any rate. Jenny ought to be warm that morning. Minimal discomfort. It would ruin all of Clara's plans if she woke up in a bad mood, so Clara braved the sunlight for once and forced herself closer around her girlfriend, letting the softness and the familiar smell of Jenny's hair bring pleasantness back into her day.

It was too early for her to be awake, but she was antsy. She could smell food cooking, three floors down, and wondered if that food was meant for her. She needed to check the time, that was for definite. Absently, trying to distract herself, she observed the dust in the air hanging in the sunbeam. Vashta Nerada, allegedly. Clara just thought it meant the room really had to be cleaned, but it was so packed full of stuff gathering dust it was hard to clean. There they were on a double bed which took up most of that little attic room, stacks upon stacks of books towering around them. It wasn't even a double bed, even, a proper double bed would mean there wasn't quite space for the wardrobe shoved into one corner amid the masses of paperbacks.

Jenny's ringtone was a piercing sound. Her ears were too sensitive at the best of times, so to a woman who was more or less half-bat that twinkling, horrible noise might as well make her eardrums burst. It woke Jenny up, too. Clara didn't know where the phone was and was too disorientated by its shrillness to find it and switch it off so that they wouldn't be disturbed. Why wasn't her phone on silent? Her phone was always on silent. Except this weekend. This Saturday which was supposed to be their Saturday, and their Sunday, too, and then their Monday morning.

"No, no, no, no…." Jenny mumbled, groaning, twisting around in discomfort. It was very loud, and quite possibly in their bed. She didn't know Clara was awake, she was too tired to notice that; as she began her search for the phone, Clara sighed and moved her arms so that she no longer had one of her hands tightly over Jenny's waist, or tangled in Jenny's hair. Clara freed her up to search and then lay there, only now closing her eyes against the sunlight, listening to Jenny's phone call. She hoped that it was just the Doctor, that perhaps he wanted to arrange some sort of father/daughter thing, as he so often did, and that Jenny could just blow him off and say she had her Clara's company pencilled in for her entire weekend. It wasn't, though, it was one of her other commitments.

"Can you be at Ballard Street in twenty minutes?" the voice of Joshua McHale asked as soon as Jenny retrieved her phone and answered it, without so much as a 'hello.' Head of Forensics Josh McHale, that should be, Clara corrected herself internally as she listened. Jenny groaned exasperatedly and collapsed back down onto her pillows.

"No," she said firmly, Clara's arm snaking back around her waist. That was about the moment that Jenny, glancing over her shoulder with surprise that Clara was moving, realised she was awake. Eyelids nearly closed, Clara smiled slightly. The closest thing to a good morning she was going to be able to manage, because no doubt Jenny would have to cancel their plans for a duvet day and go whizzing off somewhere. To Ballard Street, presumably.

"Yes," McHale said.

"No. It's my weekend off, my one weekend I've taken off to spend with my girlfriend," Jenny said.

"Your weekend off has been cancelled."

"We're not even in the same department. You can't cancel my annual leave," Jenny argued. Clara kissed her neck lightly as she talked on the phone.

"Turner can, and has, you're needed in Ballard Street ASAP," McHale told her. When Jenny groaned again and rolled onto her back, Clara had to stop kissing her, and instead just rested her head on Jenny's and tried to ignore the sunlight that was still pouring through the thin gap in the curtains.

"It's. My. Day. Off."

"She. Does. Not Care," Josh copied her.

"That's because she's an unmarried spinster," Jenny grumbled, still staying in bed, half in Clara's arms. Then she added, "Don't tell her I said that, will you?"

"You're not married, either," he pointed out. Clara's heart skipped a beat when he said that. Well, Clara's heart only beat once a minute, it was just a figure of speech. DI Jenny Young was not married, that much was true. She said nothing. "You're going to want to see this body, Young. It's another of those ODs Keegan and Holloway were on."

"You're investigating ODs now?" Clara whispered, perplexed. Jenny sighed and brushed Clara's face with the back of her hand.

"Apparently," she answered, covering the microphone with her hand.

"Do you have to go?" Clara asked pleadingly.

"I don't want to get reprimanded by Turner… I'm sorry, Clara."

"No, it's okay. You go, solve crimes, save lives," Clara managed a fang-filled smile.

"Leave the woman alone," McHale interrupted loudly, "Ballard Street, twenty minutes, be there or Turner'll put you on nightshifts all week." It wasn't quite worth the risk of Jenny being stuck on nightshifts. She worked a lot still when she was home at night, but she also spent that time with Clara. He hung up.

Sadly, Clara said, "You'd better go."

"Are you sure? You made a big deal about me taking the weekend off. I can just refuse-"

"Look, if they want you then it's probably important."

"Maybe James will-"

"I wouldn't rely on James today," Clara said, who had received thirty-something paragraph-heavy texts from Sally Sparrow during the night explaining her latest falling out with her ailing, on-and-off boyfriend. Jenny groaned theatrically and beat her fists on the mattress, then made a show of dragging herself out of bed. Clara watched her. "Did the phone wake you?" she asked, Clara sitting up as well.

"Oh, no, I was already up," Clara admitted, crossing her legs and pulling the sheets over herself, staying away from the sunbeam on the bed.

"You were? It's ten in the morning," Jenny said, frowning at her as she got up to search desperately around the room for clothes.

"Yeah, well, I just made up my mind to wake up early," Clara shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, "To spend more time with you."

"Aw," Jenny smiled, and Clara smiled back, somewhat awkwardly, "Well, at least now you can lie in."

"Mmhmm," she nodded.

"Yesterday's socks will be alright, won't they?" Jenny asked, "Have you done the washing?"

"No, um, Nios said she would do it," Clara said, and Jenny gawked at her.

"Nios? Nios said she would do our washing? Did she said she would do it, or did she say she would set fire to it?"

"I'll do it while you're out," Clara offered, "Yesterday's socks will be fine, don't worry about it. The police won't care if you smell."

"But I care if I smell. Do I smell?"

"Of course not," Clara assured her. Jenny came to sit back down on the bed while she put on the dirty socks and then her shoes afterwards. Clara shuffled over to lean over her shoulder, "Although, Ballard Street's really not that far, don't you think you might have time for breakfast?"

"Breakfast? I don't have time to cook breakfast," Jenny said, "I might have time to make a coffee, but that's it."

"I didn't mean you making it-"

"Well we also don't have time to go out anywhere, unless what you mean by breakfast is just yoghurts? Do we have yoghurts? I might have one…" Jenny rambled on about yoghurts and breakfast biscuits and whatever other vaguely healthy snacks she could think of for a few minutes, Clara resting her chin on her shoulder as she talked. When Clara went to kiss her neck again she moved away, smiling, but puzzled, "What's with you today? You're being clingy."

"I am not," Clara objected, "I just love you, that's all. Is that not allowed?" she challenged. Jenny stopped halfway through tying her shoelaces and studied Clara for some moments, Clara who just met her gaze defiantly.

Jenny leant in and kissed her on her lips for a few seconds, and then commented, "You're acting funny."

"I'm acting the same as always," Clara argued, wishing Jenny hadn't moved away so soon. Jenny didn't believe her, but she just smiled, going back to her shoes and then standing up a moment later.

"You usually just let me go to work when I get these calls."

"I am letting you! I just told you to go," Clara said. There was no point telling Jenny not to go, of course; she knew from experience that that would always be a losing battle. Jenny just seemed amused, and not all that fussed to get to the bottom of Clara's 'odd behaviour.' Given the circumstances, the circumstances which Jenny in all her obliviousness knew nothing of at all, Clara thought she was behaving very well.

Jenny was picking her coat off the back of the door when she accidentally pulled Clara's dressing gown (which she rarely wore because she was rarely all that cold, but had hung up yesterday for a very specific reason) down, too, and with wide eyes Clara watched it fall to the floor. When Jenny stooped down to pick it up, she exclaimed, "No!" and Jenny frowned at her. "Just… give it here, I'll wear it." She lunged for the dressing gown and carefully grabbed it out of Jenny's hands, taking care to keep it the right way up lest the pockets empty themselves onto the carpet.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Clara said quickly, putting the dressing gown on, "Just thought I'd come downstairs with you. Might as well, since I'm awake. I'll put the laundry on, I think, in a bit. Have an early start."

"You've only had four hours of sleep," Jenny said. Jenny was wrong, Clara had only had two hours of sleep, because she had been thinking. But she wasn't going to tell Jenny that.

"So have you," Clara pointed out, "And you didn't sleep for nine days before that."

"That's true…" Jenny sighed, pausing. Clara put her hands in her pockets. "Oh well. I've gone much longer without sleeping before." She shrugged and went to open the battered old door that went from the attic to the second floor, jumping down a narrow, crooked staircase. Clara followed, ducking under the wooden beam wedged between the walls that was there to support the roof and very inconvenient. Gave the place character, though. "You really could just go back to bed, you know."

"I don't want to go back to bed, not without you," Clara said. Dammit, she thought to herself, keep a lid on it or she'll be onto you. She knew though, deep down, that Jenny would never catch on. When Clara said that, Jenny laughed fondly, unknowingly, and Clara's fingers found the cold ring in the pocket of her dressing gown. Good; it hadn't fallen out somewhere anomalous in the inn. She didn't know what she would do if she lost it.

"Honestly, just go back to bed."

"I'm alright," Clara said, thumbing the ring. She hoped Jenny didn't notice her fidgeting. Clara followed her all the way down the next two flights of stairs down to the bar, which was completely empty with the chairs stacked upside down on the tables. Except for one table, a table for two, with the chairs pulled down and the placemats laid, cutlery at the ready. Nios was as good as her word, then.

"You look tired," Jenny said, walking through the room. Then she saw the table. "What's that? Does Nios have guests?"

"Probably just me, forgetting to stack the chairs," Clara said, "Oh well. Shame to, uh, waste it?" They were supposed to be opening the Lost Cosmonaut for business in the next week or two, and they were very nearly finished redecorating.

"It's just tables."

"Yeah, but, we could have breakfast. Can't you smell that? Seems like someone's cooking."

"Cooking? Who?"

"Just Nios, probably." Confused by this, Jenny brushed through into the kitchen to find Nios standing there in an apron adorned with pink flowers (which happened to belong to Jenny herself) frying bacon. Nios looked up when she did, and Clara, behind Jenny, put a finger to her lips in order to get Nios to be quiet.

Stiffly, Nios said, "…Good morning."

"…What's going on?" Jenny asked, looking from Nios to Clara and back to Nios again. Nios met Clara's eyes, so Jenny did as well, turning to face her, and Clara faltered for a few seconds.

"Well, I… I don't know, do I? Nios can cook if she wants to cook."

"Why would she be cooking when she can't eat?"

"I was bored," Nios lied, giving Clara a cold look, indicating that she ought to be grateful for this. And of course Clara was grateful, so grateful, she had never been more grateful for anything in her life as she continued to finger the engagement ring she was keeping hidden in her pocket.

"Shame to let it go to waste – why don't you stay for breakfast?" Clara said.

"Clara, I have to be at Ballard Street in fifteen minutes," Jenny said, then added to Nios, "McHale's called me into work. Something about overdoses."

"Oh," Nios said flatly, glancing at Clara again.

"Are you sure? It's almost done," Clara said, motioning to the bacon on the grill.

"Yes, I'm sure," Jenny said firmly, "I honestly can't stay and have this weird breakfast with you. Are you sure there's nothing going on? You're being really strange. You have been all week – all month, even."

"I haven't," Clara argued, "I've been the same as always."

"Right…" Jenny said unsurely, "…I'm just going to get a coffee when I get there, I think…"

"Really? You won't stay? I thought you might want to call your father, maybe."

"What? Call my father why, exactly?"

"You never know. A lot can happen in one morning," Clara said. Jenny just looked at her very suspiciously, and she tried to force an innocent, sweet smile onto her face.

"Well, um, I spoke to dad just a few nights ago…" she said slowly, "Nothing new to tell him. I better go now. Twenty minutes to Turner is half that to the rest of the world, and I'm a good enough Time Lord that I don't have a reputation for tardiness."

"TARDISness," Nios interjected, and they both looked at her, Clara making a face to try and get her to shut up. Jenny laughed a little and then made to go to the backdoor in the kitchen that led to the bins and out onto the street eventually. Nios had that door open to let the smoke out, anyway; it would be inconvenient if Jenny had to go unlocking the main doors on the other side of the floor.

"Are you sure?" Clara asked, getting desperate, touching Jenny's arm lightly to get her to stop. She pulled her hand holding the diamond ring out of her pocket now and held it behind her back, the delicate thing right at her fingertips.

"Seriously. Clara. What's the matter?"

"Nothing!"

"Then I'll go, I'm sorry, but I have to go to work. You're alright with that, aren't you?" she asked, slightly worried.

Turning the ring around in her fingers Clara assured her that she was definitely alright with that, why wouldn't she be? And of course she was, even if she was annoyed at their weekend being interrupted. It was supposed to be romantic. If McHale had just waited a few more hours to call, they might have been… well, she didn't know. She could only hope. Jenny wasn't budging from her work duties, though.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Clara insisted, forcing a smile, "Now, go, go solve a murder. Do it quickly and you might make lunch." Jenny smiled warmly, and then, on a whim, stepped forwards to kiss Clara again, but properly this time. Clara heard Nios scoff. When Jenny leant away, Clara continued to go towards her until she nearly fell forwards, almost stumbled.

"Clingy," Jenny commented for the second time that morning, again heading for the door to leave.

"Wait, one last thing," Clara said, taking her hand quickly, with vampire-speed.

"What?" Jenny asked, and Clara froze under the gaze of her familiar blue eyes, under the enormity of their depth and age and warmth. She held the ring in her other hand, felt the words nearly come tumbling out down her tongue.

"…I love you," she said, chickening out. It wasn't the right moment, anyway. It wouldn't be romantic if she asked it now, and she wanted a romantic story to tell.

"I love you, too," Jenny frowned, "But I have to go to work." And finally she did, disappearing through the door and out of Clara's sight. In case she was still within earshot, Clara refrained from cursing out loud. She just stood there, stuck in place, ring in her hand. At least, it was in her hand until somebody indiscreetly stole it from her.

"So you didn't ask, then?" Nios questioned, holding the ring and looking at it like she was appraising it. "I could run after her and ask her now, it's not so hard – 'Jenny, will you marry me?'"

"Give me that back," Clara swiped for it. Nios let her take it.

"I don't understand why you were planning on proposing over breakfast, anyway. Strikes me as a terrible idea."

"So that I didn't spend the whole day obsessing over it and giving myself away. Which I nearly did anyway, and she's not even been awake for fifteen minutes. And you can bloody well shut up about proposing, you're not exactly on your way to becoming Mrs Nios Cohen now, are you?"

"We're not interested in getting married."

"Well she is, so you can piss off. And let me have some of that bacon. The cat can have the rest, where is he?" Clara looked around for Batfink, but he couldn't be nearby; if he was, he would have attacked Jenny.

"I think he's out. Probably killing small dogs."

"That was one time," Clara grumbled, "And I paid for the cremation cost of the remains. He's a sweetie." Nios was unconvinced.

"So, what's the new plan? Wait until tomorrow morning?"

"I don't know. I'm gonna have to think about it. In a bit. After I put the washing on and have a shower. And drink some blood. And eat that bacon."