The Mirror Cracks (A Doctor Who Fan Fiction)

A "Twelfth Doctor and Clara" Story

Prologue

The door of the TARDIS closed behind the Doctor and Clara as they made their way to the control panel. The Doctor swivelled around on his heel, pulling out his sonic screwdriver to lock the door before clumsily running towards Clara and one of the panels. Clara leaned against the control panel. She looked up at the time rotor, at its ominous glow which filled the control room. She finally felt safe. She gathered her thoughts and her breath before finally addressing the Doctor.

“You could have got us killed back there. Did you realise that?” she said, displaying a subtle hint of excitement in her voice.

The Doctor smiled, his grin displaying an affection towards what had happened and to Clara’s own grin which she was trying her best to hide from him.

“Oh yes, very much so!” The Doctor exclaimed to his companion as he danced around the TARDIS controls to start the time machine moving again. “There’s always something about running through the corridors of a spaceship, being chased by a Quorf mercenary that really gets the blood flowing!”

As the Doctor pranced around the controls, pulling levers and turning on switches, Clara sat back in one of the chairs near the console.

“You never get bored of being chased, do you?”

The Doctor turned to face Clara.

“It seems to be part of the job description.” A cheeky wink and grin towards Clara made her blush slightly. She covered her face to hide her embarrassment. The Doctor said that he would be different with each regeneration, despite being the same person. As is the case with a lot of what the Doctor says, it was still something Clara couldn't get her head around. The major problem, however, was that Clara felt differently about this Doctor than the previous. He certainly dressed more eccentrically, his blue suit, though pristine in its appearance, certainly made him stand out in any crowd while his trainers were almost worn in comparison.  He remarked on his sudden facial hair, something he had not seen before. “Other time lords always seemed to pull it off better,” he remarked.

Clara had enjoyed her travels with his previous incarnation but never had she felt something like this before. It wasn’t right though. She couldn’t just tell him he was better now than he was before, could she? She realised she was over-thinking as she shook her head and skipped over to the Doctor who had managed to start up the TARDIS to leave.

The mecenary began pounding at the TARDIS door.

“Nobody’s home!” The Doctor shouted as he pulled one final lever to send both him and Clara to opposite sides of the TARDIS to hold on.

Regaining his composure, the Doctor nearly fell back on to the control panel, trying to stabilise the TARDIS as it travelled. His movements were more frantic and he moved from one panel to the next to finally allow the TARDIS to ease up. As he moved to another panel, he began muttering to himself. Although the same person, within his new body, with the same understanding of how to fly the time machine, adjusting to new fingers and eyes was proving difficult at times and thus he had to reassure himself of what he was doing.

“So I want to turn this… What’s that?.. Yes, perfect…And… Oh, excuse me…”

The Doctor was acknowledging a woman he had bumped into who was doing precisely the same thing as him, muttering and fiddling with the dials of the control panel. The eventual realisation came when they both went for the same lever.

Both the Doctor and this stranger looked at one another’s hand before looking at each other's faces. Despite being youthful in her looks, the woman's eyes displayed a wisdom beyond her years. Her face did not have any make-up on but she wore her hair half up, like a style from a vintage magazine with what looked to be a sonic screwdriver in one of the knots for safe keeping. She was wearing a plain blue dress, the long sleeves rolled up so you could see a bracelet on her arm, inscribed with hieroglyphics from the look of it. She smiled sweetly at the Doctor and moved her hand from atop the Doctor’s own, outwards as a gesture to shake hands.

“I’m sorry. Please to meet you, sir!”

The Doctor looked back at Clara who was shocked and still clinging on to the railings of the control room. The Doctor met the stranger’s eyes and he smiled back, shaking hands with the woman.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m the Doctor. And you are?”

The stranger was taken aback by the name but regained her composure to answer.

“I don’t wish to be rude but I believe that name has already been taken.”

The Doctor looked quizzical at her.

“I don’t understand”

The stranger smiled. “I’m the Doctor…”