Ideas Above Her Station

“It’s now or never.”

                           So what do you think— should we go for it?”

     "I don't feel like a moment with you has been wasted.             Go for it? We're only telling our friends we're engaged.                What do you think - that they're going to laugh?"

“It’s now or never.”

      “Time. I always have been.”

   "Isn't everyone?     Time's what pushes us to do things. To live.      It's precious and we don't want to waste it."

“It’s now or never.”

      "Oi...Look at me.          What are you so afraid of?"

 ”I’d return that, but you don’t actually do or say very many… or any stupid things. So I might just have to settle for I love you too. Hope you don’t mind.”

"Oh it's a very good job you changed that 'very many'. Saved yourself there. No, I don't mind. Growing to not mind quite a lot actually. Bit startling, isn't it?"

      "Right— yes, of course. Cake? We can get cake together, as soon as you let me down. You can pick the kind. Everybody likes cake, cake is perfect for  a prize."

"Cake is a good start. Where are you taking me for cake? Somewhere amazing?"

Opening his eyes, he turned in the bed towards her.   “Clara?  Are you alright?”  Sleep clogged up his tone, marking it hoarse.  He swallowed, even as he blinked more, clearing his eyes. 

He brought up his other hand as if swearing an oath. “Now you see it -.” The hand waved back and forth in front of her eyes. “And now you don’t.” All of a sudden, for Clara alone, the image of the shimmer dissolved. XI grinned back at her, thin, young, and the only hint that he was anything other than himself was the red and white Santa suit and hat he had donned. “Thought you’d be less creeped out if I unmasked,” he snickered.

  "Very imaginative too— but seeing as I’m not a Phrilrat coming to attack, could you possible let me out now… please?”

     "Depends. What are you offering? I mean I deserve a prize don't I? For being so very clever."

     “Now that’s what you call clever.”

      "Thank you, dear. I thought it was rather genius of me too."

Lewd remark aired he carried his rotund frame over to the bench and made himself comfortable, watching her with a rosy-cheeked, arrogant expression.

If pressed, the Doctor wouldn’t be able to explain why, exactly, he had managed to stop his flight.  Oh he knew, deep inside, both that he wanted to make sure that Clara had survived.   Even more that, a part of him wanted to assuage the guilt that swamped him, for the actions Hyde took wearing his body.   Actions he couldn’t help but to feel responsible for.  

"Oi! Molly! You leave the buttons alone. No, don’t give me that face; if you knock my anti-grav disabler, your friend Mark’ll shoot off up bloody Westminster and there’ll be no more presents. What do you mean I don’t sound like Father Christmas? How many Father Christmases do you know, eh? Now shut up and eat your sweets before your parents take them off you. Oh, for god’s sake, Jennifer.. don’t climb in there. It’s another dimens- for fu- hang on, look, if you all stop pushing, I’ll pull out a real reindeer, alright?"

Clara couldn't exactly say she was looking forward to the Christmas Eve shift - to many men spending too much money that they could ill afford - but she'd promised her uncle. Besides, with the Latimers out of town visiting family (his disapproving mother who'd specifically asked him not to bring that 'emboldened governess') it wasn't as though she had anywhere else to be.  Pottering around in the cellar, making sure all was ready, when she first heard the commotion she thought some sort of trouble had started and, being that kind of girl, she downed her apron and headed swiftly for it. The sight that met her eyes was beyond unexpected. Hands on hips, she watched as the familiar looking man handed out gifts to excited children. Whilst the sight was joyful, the scowl on her face was simply disbelieving. "Okay," she said to no one in particular, "now that is just impossible." Clara Oswin Oswald had seen many wondrous things but even so she'd stopped believing in Father Christmas a very long time ago.

Its what drove him here, to check on Clara.   The half formed thought that maybe she would be okay, that seeing him wouldn’t traumatize her more.   The guilt he felt, kept him from closing the distance.

He set his jaw at the thought and sighed. “He told me he’d done it to you.”