The house was much too imposing for its size. As Clara stared up at it, the house seemed to glower at her, sneering at the short woman and her boxes of belongings.

Taking a deep breath, Clara unlocked the door and began pulling the boxes into the house. Some of the boxes were heavy, but with the help of a dolly and a good amount of muttering, they were deposited in the living room.

Taking a deep breath, Clara scooted the couch into the middle of the room, then laid down, completely exhausted.

As she was about to slip into a coma, she was startled awake by the sounds of an argument behind the house.

"Well at least I'm not a Kung-Fu dandy!"

"It's aikido, you ignorant clown!"

"Why can't you leave me in peace?"

"Why can't you stop screeching away on that overrated whistle of yours?"

"It's a recorder, and it's not my fault if you can't appreciate the finer qualities of it."

"It's keeping me from appreciating the finer qualities of anything!"

"Will the both of you shut up!?" Asked a new voice. "Dear me, is it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet around here?"

"Well, he started it!"

"Did not! You started it!"

"I wasn't the one screeching away on my recorder!"

"So this is why the house was so cheap." Muttered Clara, getting up and stomping into the backyard.

The main arguers, a taller, white haired man dressed far too nicely for just gardening and a shorter, dark-haired man in baggy clothes were glaring and squabbling over the fence. An old man, about the same height as the dark-haired one, yelled at the both of them, and a dark haired girl in the same yard as the old man looked like she'd like nothing more than to sob and bang her head against a brick wall.

"Oi!" Shouted Clara, drawing the attention of everyone involved. "You two! Stop flirting!" She pointed at the main arguers, and they sputtered indignantly, before sulkily going into their houses, slamming the doors shut.

The old man snickered and the girl covered her mouth with her hands. Clara was unable to tell whether from mortification, or hidden laughter.

"Well, you must be the new owner of the house, hm?" Asked the old man. "I suppose you found out why the last person moved. Those two are such a nuisance!"

"It's strange really." Said the girl. "They're actually quite similar, but they just can't get along!"

"Well, my child," said the old man, leaning over the fence and peering at her, "what's your name, hm?"

"Clara Oswald." Said Clara, smiling and holding out her hand. "And you are?"

"I'm Susan Foreman." Said the young girl, shaking the hand, "and this is my Grandfather, William."

"Oh!" Said Clara, "well, I-" Clara was interrupted by the slamming of a car door out in front of her house.

"Hello?" Asked a voice.

"In the back!" Shouted Clara.

"Er," said a police man, walking into the backyard, "Christopher called and said that Jon and Patrick were at it again."

"They were." Sighed Susan. "But Ms. Oswald-"

"Clara." Said Clara. "Call me Clara, please."

"She stopped them fighting..." Said Susan, then giggled, "like an old, married couple..." She continued laughing, much to the mustache'd officer's confusion.

"William, what-"

"Oh, it's none of your concern, Chief Lethbridge-Stewart." Said William. "She stopped them fighting, and I daresay that they won't be squabbling for a while, hm?" With that, the old man stepped down from whatever he was using to boost himself up and reportedly walked inside the house, the door slamming shut.

"You must be the new resident." Said Chief Lethbridge-Stewart. "I'm the chief of police around here, and I trust you won't try anything?"

"Other than my hand at soufflés, no." Said Clara, grinning. The Chief nodded, then left out the gate.

"He seems a bit uptight." Said Clara.

"He is a bit." Agreed Susan. "But he's really nice. And..." Susan looked around and leaned in towards Clara, who moved closer to the teenager, "I think he's sweet on Principal Shaw."

Clara raised her eyebrows and looked at Susan, who smiled.

"Really?" Asked Clara. "Well, I must say, a principal sounds like his type."

"Susan!" Called William. "Come in now, my child! You've that report for Ms. Wright, and the papers for Mr. Chesserson!"

"It's Mr. Chesterton!" Said Susan over her shoulder, smiling as she turned back to Clara. "Goodbye!" She said, jumping down from her stand.

"Goodbye!" Said Clara, smiling as she walked back into her house, resolving to start unpacking, and semi-rested and in much better spirits, it went by reasonably well.

"Well." Clara muttered to herself, hands on her hips as she stared at the house, the different rooms reasonably furnished. "I think that's enough for one day. More than enough, really." She added, glancing at the clock and rubbing her sore arms.

It was past Clara's bedtime, so after heating up a microwave dinner, she retired to her newly-made bed. She felt as though her head'd barely touched the pillows when her alarm went off.

Groggily smacking it into submission, she turned over and spent the next ten minutes psyching herself to throw off the covers and shower. The hot water felt good, and she dilly-dallied in the bathroom, before resignedly shutting off the tap and toweling off. After she dressed in a airy blouse and slacks, she retired to the living room with the classifieds and a cup of tea.

After she'd narrowed the jobs down to a travel agent, (No experience required, people person a plus!), a nanny, (Kids well-behaved, good pay!), and a barmaid, (Reasonable hours, good chance to meet new people.), there came a knock on the door. Clara opened it to find a tall man with floppy hair and a bow-tie, and a shorter woman with curly blond hair and a flirtatious smile. The woman was carrying a basket filled with tea, coupons, and a bag of Jammy Dodgers.

"Hello!" Said the man, who desperately needed to lay off the coffee. "We're your neighbors! We've brought a gift basket, and it's got Jammy Dodgers!" He wildly gestured to the basket, much to Clara's amusement.

"Sweetie." Said the woman, grabbing his shoulder, then shaking Clara's hand, handing her the basket. "Hello." She said. "I'm River Song, and this is my husband, Matt."

"Hello." Said Clara, smiling as she put the basket on a side table. "I'm Clara."

"Aren't you the one that stopped Jon and Patrick from fighting yesterday?" Asked Matt, looking longingly at he Jammy Dodgers.

"Yes." Said Clara, grabbing the bag and handing him a cookie, which he started eating on ecstatically.

"You actually told them to 'stop flirting'?" He asked through the Dodger, causing River to smack him on the arm. "Ow!"

"Yeah." Said Clara. "It's a trick I used when I babysat for a family friend. Angie and Artie were always onto each other, but that helped... For a time." She grimaced.

"They do bicker like children, don't they?" River asked sympathetically. "They're the reason the house has gone empty so long. No-one wants to have to listen to a pair of middle-aged men bicker at odd hours of the day... And night." There was an awkward silence as Matt and River reflected back on the aforementioned night. "...But from Patrick's complaining, they shouldn't be at it for a while." River said, smiling. "He comes over every once in a while, mostly to vent over a cup of tea."

"Hm." Said Clara. "Di you know if there are there any jobs available?"

"Ooh, Jack has an opening at his bar!" Said Matt. "He's a flirt, but really nice!"

"Thanks." Said Clara. "If that's all..."

"Bye!" Said Matt. "Come over sometime! We live over there!" He pointed across the street, at a house with an old blue police box in the front.

"The house with the snog box?" Asked Clara.

"How'd you know?" Asked Matt, a confused expression on his face.

"What?" Asked Clara.

"That it's called the snog box?" Asked Matt.

"What?" Asked Clara.

"Goodness, you sound like Dave!" Exclaimed River. "It's known as the Tardis Snog Box, because most of the kids have snuck in and used it to snog. It's a bit of a nuisance, one time I came out to put out the cat, and happened across Luke and Maria snogging. I'm not sure who was the most surprised!" She chuckled and tugged on Matt's arm. "Bye now." She said, tugging her husband to their house.

"Bye!" Said Clara, shutting the door and taking a deep breath.

"Jack's pub, eh?" She mused.

BloodLily: 'Ello!

Unicorn Plushie: You shouldn't be starting up any new stories, with the twenty you already have up.

BloodLily: See this face? This face belongs to a person that does not care. :)

Unicorn Plushie: TT Whatevs. BloodLily would like to say that she does not own Doctor Who. If she did, there would be more angst-

BloodLily: Don't. Start. That. Again.

Unicorn Pushie: I will if you don't apologize for calling me a Pillow Pet!

BloodLily: You are a Pillow Pet.

Unicorn Plushie: Are not!

BloodLily: *undoes strap and Unicorn Plushie transforms into Unicorn Pillow* Case in point.

Unicorn Pillow: TT I hate you.

BloodLily: No you don't! :)