The Defender of Time

Thirty-Eight

Alessia settled on a small family restaurant for her final dinner with her parents. It was called Charlotte's Grill, and sat right in the center of downtown. The three of them had visited Charlotte's frequently over the last few years; often when Clara didn't want to cook, and once when an unfortunate incident involving a fork and the wall outlet had left the kitchen covered in ash.

Clara ordered a glass of red wine, the Doctor a glass of lemonade. Alessia had settled on root beer.

"This wine is atrocious," Clara whined, scowling at the drink. "Cheapy stuff." She held the glass in the Doctor's direction, but he waved it away. "Four more years and I can offer it to you, Less. How are you fourteen?"

"I turned it." Alessia sipped at her root beer and stirred the ice around with the barbershop-striped straw.

"I remember the first time I saw you," said Clara, reminiscing. She smiled faintly. "You remember that, Doctor? You nearly pounded the door down in that silly robe. 'Poor little girl', I thought. 'Her dad's completely mad.'" She giggled a little bit and took another swig of her wine, before remembering again that she didn't like the taste.

Alessia remained quiet, but her father smiled. "You were right," he remarked. "Her dad is completely mad. But, so's her mum."

Clara was just about to smack the Doctor's shoulder when the waitress flounced over, smacking a stick of bubble gum. "Ready to order?" She asked.

"A chicken sandwich for me," said Clara.

She raised her eyebrows at the Doctor, who said, "Fish sticks. And chicken tenders for her." He tipped his head toward Alessia and the waitress smiled, jotted down the order, and walked away.

"What made you think I'd want chicken tenders?" Asked Alessia. "I haven't gotten chicken tenders here since I was, like, ten."

Her father wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "That's what you always get, Lessie. I just figured I'd spare you the hassle."

"Alessia. And no, it's not. I've gotten a caesar salad the last, like, ten times we've been here. See, this is the problem." Alessia pushed her root beer away and leaned forwards on the table. "You don't pay any attention to me anymore, Dad. Did I do something wrong?"

Clara cleared her throat. "Is this really a Charlotte's conversation?"

"You're being ridiculous, Alessia," said the Doctor, paying Clara's remark no attention. "I pay lots of attention to you. Please don't get so upset over me forgetting your order."

"This is more than that! You never came to dinner with Ryan, you weren't there last year when I won the Academic Excellence award, you're never there when it matters!" Alessia leaned back again and crossed her arms. "And don't pretend like it's not true, because you know it is."

The Doctor scoffed and leaned back himself. "I was there for your award. I remember it perfectly, Mr Wyland gave you the award last, so that he could say something special about you. I was so proud, Alessia, how could you even say that I wasn't there?"

Alessia raised her eyebrows. "Mr Wyland was the principal at primary school. I'm in year 10." She turned to Clara. "He wasn't there last year, right Mum?"

Clara sighed and shook her head. "No. I sat with the Malmstroms, so Gabby could see Alessia get the award, Doctor. You weren't there."

"Well, I was busy. The universe needs saving. I can't be there at every ceremony."

"You were at home!" Alessia exclaimed. "At home, in your stupid library! And what about Amy and Rory? Even when I was little, you--"

"Amy and Rory are dead." The Doctor's eyes narrowed. "And I do not want to hear you use them as pawns in a silly argument."