makemeasong | Open post/meme overflow 💫

[ Only now does Clara pull back to look up at the Doctor, a part of her heart twisting to know she wasn't there. Even if maybe she wasn't needed, if she'd been asked to go and live her life, she'd always rather be there. Especially now that she knows how the hell it works. ]

Typical you. Always did get into trouble without me.

[ There's a hint of a smile there as she looks, instead of up, directly into the Doctor's eyes. That's new, and her smile grows just a touch. ]

Miss me?

Absolute rubbish on my own, yeah.

[She lets her hands fall away now that Clara has leaned back, but the smile on her face lingers. Like it could go anywhere when she has this chance.]

Oh you know, a little. Here and there. [A flicker of mischief in her smile before she grows a shade more serious.] Every day since I saw you last. Every day I've still got coming.

I can't believe you let me go on about goodbyes that way.

[ It's on the tip of her tongue, why did you leave me?, because she knows, she knew it when the Doctor pleaded with her, that she'd travel as long as she possibly could. And so, before he even regenerated, he would've had to make her go. It doesn't even cross her mind that something could have happened to her.

At the Doctor's words and the look on her face, Clara swallows thickly, vision blurring yet again. ]

I know I miss you just as much, wherever I'm traveling in the world. I think I'd always listen for that sound of the TARDIS.

[ She blinks to try and drive away her tears, and when she does, a tear gone rogue drips its way down the apple of her cheek. ]

Started to think of it as the sound that means it's time to come home.

In my defense, the writing was on the wall. Or well, the not-wall. Mid-air.

[And she'd been a little stunned to find herself looking at Clara Oswald standing in front of her alive and human and here, not on the inevitable course to a death that she couldn't prevent.]

In the universe. [She corrects quietly, and for saying she couldn't tell the other woman her future, she certainly is saying something.

The sight of that tear has her chest tightening, too tight for both hearts to properly beat. She's quick to reach up, brush the back of a knuckle against that cheek to wipe away the tear that escaped.

There are tears threatening in her own eyes, even if she's still smiling. There's an ache to the expression.]

Clara... [There are too many words to say and somehow the only ones that make it out are a quiet.] I'm sorry.

[ It surprises her to hear; she isn't wandering Earth and finding all the hidden nooks and crannies. No, she's out in the universe somehow, some way, without the Doctor. Her brow creases in confusion, and it stays that way when the Doctor begins apologizing.

The touch is familiar, even so many years removed. The warmth of her hand is still the same, and it's all Clara can do not to press her cheek into the touch. Her stomach is too busy twisting in apprehension, but her voice is soft. ]

Why? Why are you sorry, Doctor?

Because if it were up to me, the TARDIS would have always been your home, as long as you wanted it. But there are some things I can't change, as much as I want... wanted... to.

[She's lost too many people, and all of them had hurt. Some had left scars so deep that no number of regenerations would ever smooth them over. Clara Oswald is one of those. Scattered through her timeline, with her through and end and a beginning and so much more.]

[ There's something niggling at the back of Clara's mind, but she doesn't want to question it. The Doctor can't tell her and she isn't sure if she wants to know anyway. ]

I know that whatever it is, if you wanted me with you and I couldn't be, then you tried. You always try, I know you do, but I like that I'm out there with the stars. And here we are again, together. You got the timing a bit off, but when don't you?

[ She laughs, teasing, and reaches out for another hug. She's still lingering when a thought occurs to her. ]

It'd be brilliant if you said the TARDIS was here.

[She tried. She caused an absurd amount of trouble with the trying, but she'd try again if given the chance. Again and again.]

Timing's off, but the company couldn't be better. So I'm not complaining.

[The Doctor is happy to wrap Clara back into another hug. And it's her turn to allow the start of a teasing grin tug its way over her lips.]

It would be, right? Brilliant. Convenient.

[And since this thread got snatched away from a TDM and the same rules no longer have to apply.] She is, but she's not happy about it. She's a little... grounded.

[Not entirely grounded. But whatever snatched them here isn't letting the TARDIS do more than make short hops from place to place. Locked into the timeline and not able to leave the general area.]

[ The TARDIS is a safe haven, no matter where they are. No one else in or out—that feels better than whatever's going on where they landed. ]

Lucky she managed to land the one place in the universe I happen to be.

[ Clara pulls back and her smile reaches her eyes, somehow able to make brown sparkle in the twilight. ]

Come on, then. It's been ages since you saw me last. [ Reaching out for her hand, Clara smiles again, hopefully. ]

Take me home.

[Luck isn't really something the Doctor is willing to believe in. Coincidences are usually just coincidences. Unless they're not. But with the size of the cosmos and the natural inclination of the TARDIS to avoid crossing timelines that shouldn't be crossed, it's hard to think that Clara and her both being here in this moment, to meet again, that feels bigger than any coincidence should be.

She should be suspicious about it, maybe, but she'll save that for later. It isn't nearly as important as reaching out to wrap her hand around Clara's, not bothering to hide the way her smile warms at those words. Take me home.

Yeah, that sounds right.]

Right then. Let's go. It's not far.

[It isn't. The TARDIS is currently tucked in a copse of trees -- not the best hiding spot for a blue police box, but at least it's not starkly out in the open -- and as it comes into view, the Doctor gestures with her free hand.] Tada.

[ Clara expected it to feel different, her hand in the Doctor's. And it does, her skin is soft, her hands are smaller. But the warmth and the way Clara feels when they're connected is the same: sure, safe, and like always, wanted.

It isn't as if she's been separated from the TARDIS long, but it still feels good to see her again, a relief. Just like the Doctor is a relief to see in this place. Everything will be alright now.

Laughing softly, Clara only lets go of the Doctor's hand to dig in her pocket and pull out her key. ]

Didn't change the locks on me did you?

[ Her eyes dance because she already knows the answer, and she moves to the door, looking over her shoulder for persmission. ]

[The Doctor releases her, only lifting an eyebrow at the question. As if she would. No, that key would always open this door, in case whatever forces of chance and fate and other mysterious workings in the universe ever brought Clara Oswald back to her door.

Which, she supposes, they have.

So she hangs back, ducking her head in a quick nod of 'go ahead' as she watches Clara let herself in.]

We did do a little redecorating. [Well the TARDIS had, specifically.]

[ When the key slides into the lock, Clara has to grin to herself. Even seemingly orbiting around one another in the universe, she can always come back. Or so she thinks.

The Doctor's casual warning isn't enough to prepare her for how different it looks when she steps into the doorway. Now it's her eyebrows that raise, walking further inside and trying to think of something to say. ]

...Oh my stars.

[ Nailed it, thanks mum. After a few more seconds, she wrinkles her nose. ]

Is the TARDIS okay?

[ This is what shocks her the most after the fact that the Doctor regnerated at all. Not that she's changed genders. That the TARDIS is apparently going through an orange-y glowing rock phase. ]

Oi. Hey.

[The Doctor wrinkles her nose at Clara, pulling the door shuts the door once they're both inside and leaning back against it.]

Everyone's a critic. Of course she's okay. She's trying something new. I think it's brilliant.

[It's a style choice for certain.] I don't critique your outfits. [Except she is well aware she absolutely one hundred percent has done exactly that on more than one occasion, and not always kindly. Oh well. The Doctor lies.]

[ That lie makes her laugh, one hand reaching out to lightly stroke one of the odd columns. ]

Blatant lie. Didn't even try that time. But you're right, I concede. I'm sorry.

[ The apology, she says back at the TARDIS, patting the column again before walking around the console slowly. As she does, that same twisting feeling of something happening between them knots in her stomach, and Clara looks up at the Doctor again, pushing the feeling away. ]

D'you like it? This go 'round. Other than not being a ginger, I mean.

[There's no stopping the smile breaking over her own face as she's summarily called out. She pushes off from the door and makes her way further into the console room, up towards the center so she can lean back against the console itself, watching Clara.]

Not that blatant.

[She mutters. But no, yeah pretty blatant nevertheless.

Clara isn't the only one trying to ignore that familiar, inescapable pull. She should be better at this by now, but new regeneration or not, it's still a weakness. And she wouldn't change it even if she could.]

I do, yeah. Took a little getting used to at first. All the 'madame' this and that. And it's a different perspective. Lots of people are really ready to underestimate me like this. Or just plain ignore me.

[It is absurd is what it is. She'll tell Clara about being tried as a witch sometime.]

What do you think? [She gestures down at herself. Go ahead, Clara, give her the truth.]

Welcome to the wonderful world of womanhood. It's maddening, is what it is. Now you understand why I'm so bossy.

[ It's not an insult in Clara's opinion by any stretch.

When the Doctor asks what she thinks, Clara walks to stand directly across from her, head tilting this way and that as she appraises. There's always been something about the Doctor's she's known: the chin she wanted to kiss, the salt and pepper hair she wanted to push her fingers through. Still could, still wants to when she goes back to the right time. And now there are curves she wants to memorize.

If she isn't with the Doctor when this regeneration happens, then that means this is technically a second chance to get it right. Or a third? She has no idea. With a warm gaze, she teases first. ]

Well, you seem fit. [ Her dimpled smile melts into softer, smaller one. ]

You're perfect. You've always been perfect. Or were you looking for specifics?

It's rubbish.

[But bossy, yes, that's her Clara. It had been one of the things that she'd always liked about her, the fact that once her mind was set to something, there would be no moving her unless she chose to be moved.

She's always liked that smile though, that playful grin that made her eyes shine something wicked, that softer expression she's wearing just now that had a way of catching the Doctor's hearts into a series of tripping over themselves.]

Lots of running still, to trouble. From trouble.

[The usual really. A tilt of her head, and she reaches beneath her coat to hook into the bright yellow suspenders.] Thought you might have a comment about the braces at least.

[ Clara laughs, naturally gravitating into the Doctor's orbit, enroaching on her personal space. She feels like she's still testing it out; she's gotten quite good at making sure the Doctor sees her coming, it's habit now. ]

Your braces are about level with your bowties. And I liked those. A lot, actually. [ Every now and then, they were an excuse to step close and look up at him, fixing his bowtie when more often than not, it didn't need fixing. ]

I took one. Before you figured out your new sense of style, you hated the bowties so much, thought you might toss them into the time vortex. I knicked one, kept it at home where I could see it.

[Clara is close, but this is not something to complain about. It's distracting though, has always been a little distracting if she's being honest with herself -- not something she always chooses to be lately.

It's her turn to laugh.] I'm fond of the bowties again. Styles change.

[There is a certain brightness to her now, a renewed wonder at the world around her in general. Oh there's that deep sadness, running fast and deceptively deep and dangerous as the Bolton Strid for the way she keeps it tucked beneath easy cheer and excitement.]

I'm glad you kept it. And I'm glad you stayed. I don't remember if I ever really said that properly. Think you saved me from myself. More than once. [More than twice. More times than she really can count.]

[ Right away, Clara files that laugh away as magic, one of the best sounds she's ever heard. It makes her smile with dimples on display.

Until it dims a little. She hates thinking about that time, the very beginning. That phone call shredded her heart to pieces and then everything was taken away from her at once: reassurance, kind smiles, hugs. Even grabbing his hand wasn't allowed. It hurt and she tried, tried to hide it, tried to sink into Danny.

What a mess it all was. But now she can reach out, tactile as ever, so she does. Taking her hand, Clara keeps her eyes trained on the Doctor's. ]

That's what I do. It's what I was born to do, and it's what I want to do.

[ Clara knows that's something she doesn't like, but it's already done, echoes scattered. ]

[It was a hard time for the both of them. She'd been so lost in who she was and who she would be after the way the former her had found his end. And oh her Clara, the one stable bright spot left in a world that had been turned on end, who she'd -- he'd, then -- needed so desperately, but hadn't known the shape that should take. Could take.

This is easier, even after the heartache of losing Clara, trying to get her back before losing even the memory of her, left only with a void that was unmistakable but fillable until her memory was restored.

The Doctor's hand shifts, and for a moment it might seem like she intends on pulling it from Clara's hold. But it's just the opposite, the little movement meant to lace their fingers together, only to squeeze reflexively at those words.]

You were born for so much more than that, Clara.

Maybe I was.

[ Clara will allow that, a small victory for her Doctor. ]

But then you showed me the stars. You took me to galaxies and planets, times and places I'd never even dreamed of. The second you stood at my door in that ridiculous monk outfit—[ She allows herself to smile, then steps even closer, continuing with a softened voice ]—you changed everything about who I thought I was.

[ Clara's got no clue how loaded this conversations, but she means it. ]

Made me feel braver too, than I thought I could be.

[The words strike like blows, and Clara doesn't know. Clara can't know just how dangerous all those things were. She tries to keep it out of her expression, tries to keep the smile from faltering.

It's a little easier with Clara being here, smiling at her.]

Too brave sometimes. [She admits, trying to keep the rueful tone from her voice.]

You changed who I was too. For the better.

[ It's there and gone again, something in the Doctor's eyes that causes that same knot to twist in her stomach. But it's gone so quickly there's no time for Clara to react. Instead, she smile so hard her dimples could hold water. She's glowing at the Doctor's words. ]

I did?

[ Sometimes, it's hard for Clara to believe she could mean more to the Doctor than others who were companions before her. Who was she, but a sad girl from Blackpool when she went on her first adventure? Who was she, to change the Doctor at all? ]

I find that hard to believe. [ But she's still grinning, more than pleased. ]

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to bed with me, but I'll be around tomorrow!

sleep sweet! :D I'll be around and about tomorrow as well.

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