Making the perfect whoufflé: one shots

Second Chances [whouffaldi]

Clara Oswald. Oh, Clara Oswald completed him. And she was gone.

Oh, how foolish he had been, leaving for Gallifrey when he may not even find the damn place. Leaving his Clara with P.E.. He missed her. For her, it had been years since she'd seen him. For him it seemed like decades.

He missed her smile, her dimples. The Doctor missed his Clara in the morning, grumpy and huffy with her hair sticking up in odd angles. He missed the dance Clara did around the console on Wednesday mornings when she'd insist on plugging her mobile into the TARDIS speakers. He'd act as if the sight of her dancing was annoying or that her mobile took too much charge from the TARDIS but on the inside, the sight made his heart dance like she did. His heart yearned just to hear her laughter ring throughout the console room once more. The Doctor missed Clara's attack hugs. The Doctor missed their playful banter. The Doctor even missed their fights.

He was sure that his wonderful Impossible Girl was happy. Happy with Danny, happy with being away from him. An old man in a blue box, psh, that was never Clara's dream. Her dream was Danny and family and boring, humaney-wumey stuff.

Many times a week he would fly to her flat, right outside of it (luckily he had fixed the TARDIS in a way that it made almost no sound) and sit in the console room--feeling foolish--before flying away. He couldn't interfere with her life anymore. She didn't want him the same way he wanted her. Or did she..?

Clara was lonely. She had pushed everyone away when her doctor left her and the man she falsely loved passed away. Now she had no one.

Clara missed her doctor. She missed his jacket that smelt of tobacco and something mechanical (she didn't know why it smelt of tobacco, he didn't even smoke.). She missed his curly silver hair that she would mess up just to bother him. His smile. Oh, she missed that wonderful, dorky smile. She missed his grumpiness that she always seemed to be able to snap him out of and get him smiling and chuckling. Everything about him, oh, she missed it all. Every little amenity he possessed, she missed.

Clara didn't know how badly she would miss her doctor when she had let him leave.

Clara had been tempted to try and find him, he had to be flying around somewhere! There was no way he wouldn't travel just a little even after finding Gallifrey. Travelling was an addiction that Clara knew first hand and she knew The Doctor wasn't one to give it up so easily. But alas, Clara never went after him.

He existed only in her memories now. Often, she looked at their pictures together. She looked at the ones of her with his bow-tie fond regeneration and his grey-haired regeneration, each looked the same to her. He'd never look any different to her.

As Clara grew older, it began to appear on her cheeks. Wrinkles littered her face. Clara's beauty still shone like a diamond despite age. And eventually, she married a nice man, someone whom she loved to spend time with. He was her best friend, next to The Doctor of course. Honestly, he looked much like The Doctor's eleventh regeneration but about ten years older.

By the time Clara's fiftieth birthday came around, she had two brown haired children who eventually had their own children. She'd tell them all of her adventures and although the stories were true, they thought of them only as fairytales.

Clara loved her husband, truly she did. But she wasn't in love with him. The Doctor had her heart the whole time. She was in love with her grumpy old man.

Throughout her life, she had ups and downs. The Doctor slipping into her thoughts more than was deemed healthy. She had times where she didn't move for hours and just stared blankly at the wall in front of her and her husband eventually felt as if she had gone crazy.