Maybe Next Time

"Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?"

Her eyes widen at his words - if they could widen even more at that point, that is - and she shakes her head.

He nods. "Okay, then.", he says, looking down at the console as the TARDIS shakes violently. "Guess I'll have to remember a bit quicker."

Clara then remembers the person in front of her hasn't flown his precious ship in centuries and it makes her heart ache; but what makes it ache more is the bow tie still lying on the floor and the new accent that molds around the man's words.

Man's. She cannot call him 'Doctor'. She just can't seem to find it in her and she tries to move past all of it.

She has seen him in all forms. She has accepted him as the Doctor, but now - now, it's just too painful. It's oh-so painful. And he deserves someone who would travel the universe with him in a heartbeat, who would trust him undoubtedly, who would accept him.

Because - in this very moment - she cannot.

He grins. "Where do you want to go next?"

She doesn't act like she heard him and it slowly starts to concern him. She's been sitting on one of the staircases for hours as he's been re-adjusting to the TARDIS only well enough to get her to stop shaking and get them to a safe place where they could both rest as they regenerate.

"Clara?", he calls out for her and only then she straightens up.

She slowly turns around just enough to see him. Her cheeks are puffed from crying and the corners of her eyes are red.

She's been mourning, he knows.

"Take me home.", she says and it hits him like a ton of bricks. Not this, not again. For a moment, his thoughts draw back to the first moments of his tenth self and the scared blond girl he had to reassure. Rose was scared, and he knew without a doubt that Clara was feeling the same.

They both needed time to mourn the man they knew and trusted, and he understood that. But, a part of him feared. Clara Oswald was no Rose Tyler, and no matter how long he's lived or how much he knew, he wasn't even sure in the slightest if Clara would accept the new him.

So, he simply nods. "Home it is, then.", he says and only hopes for the best.

When the TARDIS lands by her home, she opens the doors and walks out not turning around once.

It just hurt too much.

It's a Wednesday and she's sitting by the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in her hand and a souffle in the oven when she hears it. The wheezing sound that brought hope. And - even without her conscious will - she left the hot cup to go cold and the souffle to burn as she jumped out of her chair and ran and ran and ran, a light smile forming on her lips.

Because she hopes.

She hopes and she hopes and it gets crushed and the smile disappears when the man at the TARDIS doors is not her Doctor.

She stops dead in her tracks. "What is it?", she asks, confused and growing defensive.

"The Fifteenth Broken Moon of the Medusa Cascade.", he says simply. "Tell me it doesn't make you curious.", he ends with a mischievous smirk.

She folds her arms against her chest and looks up at him, her eyes filled with silent grief. If it were a different time, she would've jumped into the TARDIS right away, laughing as hard as she could. But, her heart ached more than curiosity sparked.

She shakes her head no.

He nods and leaves, the only sound heard that of his only eternal companion.

"Clara, you've got a message."

Clara finished wiping the board and turns around. Wiping her hands, she looks up at Mike. "Who from?", she asks, lightly smiling.

"That doctor of yours.", Mike replies. He gives her a concerned look. "You sure you're okay, Clara?"

She barely catches his question. What was he doing here again? She refused - she said no.

"Yeah, Mike. I'm fine.", she says. "What did he say?"

Mike shrugs. "He just left a number."

Clara takes the piece of paper he offers her, picks up her things and leaves with a small goodbye.

She dials the number and stays on the line only long enough to say "no".

"Alzarius. Just imagine it, Clara; every fifty years, the planet is dragged away from its sun by a larger planet."

"No."

"Castrigan Nova; whirlpools of gold."

"No."

"Koorharn. We can ice skate on the mineral lakes."

Clara sighs. "Doctor, please."

"Ha!", he exclaims. "You called me Doctor."

She looks up at him. He's wearing a nice suit but he's tie-less. His face is older, wrinkled, but it matches his years and his eyes; those big, sad eyes that are so different yet so familiar.

For the first time in months, she feels regret for declining his offer.

He always comes on Wednesdays.

"Why won't you come with me?"

He's sitting next to her on the stairs by her house. She's wearing a warm sweater, as winter has already come once again, a cup of hot chocolate warming her palms.

"I don't trust you.", she says as the answer slips from her tongue before she managed to find a nicer way of saying it.

"Why don't you trust me?", the Doctor asks, looking at her with a glint of hope in his eyes that he might manage to make her trust him again.

"You've changed."

"I'm still the Doctor."

She nods. "Yeah."

But he's not her Doctor.

A silence falls between them as she sips on her drink.

She looks up at the sky and sees the stars and suddenly she finds herself wishing she could go to the third one from the moon.

"Will you be back next Wednesday?", she asks, not really sure why.

He asnwers instantly. "Yes."

"Why?"

He shrugs, a light smile on his lips as memories come to his mind. "Because next Wednesday, you might say yes."

"Did you know I've always wanted to meet Charlie Chaplin?"

She's standing at the TARDIS doors as he's dancing around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers.

"Then go meet him."

He looks up at her. "Come with me?"

She knows that if she speaks, her voice will betray her, so she just shakes her head and leaves.

As it's customed for people who had travelled with the Doctor, soon enough she finds herself in the middle of another alien attack.

It's a Wednesday and he's there and they're fighting back to back and she realises she trusts him. She trusts him and "Doctor" slips off her lips oh-so often and she realises that even though her heart still aches for her bow-tied mad man with a box, every time she looks into those big, sad eyes, she feels this familiar pull and being here, with him, fighting, simply feels right.

"What do you think about Barcelona?", he mentions as they're walking back to the TARDIS. "Not the city Barcelona - the planet Barcelona. Where dogs have no noses.", he laughs and she laughs with him.

"Really?"

He nods. "So. You coming?"

She pauses and he fears.

"Yeah.", she nods back, still chuckling. "Yeah, I'm coming."

The Doctor smiles and takes Clara's hand.