When Clara Met Rose(A Whouffle/TenPetals Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

It had all been very simple at the start. A trip to the lost moon of Poosh; a desolate, eerily beautiful place that had raised the hairs on Clara's arms and widened her eyes with wonder. Dinner afterwards as promised- an almost unheard of prospect with the Doctor- at the restaurant at the birth of the universe, five courses of food while colours danced and entire galaxies formed around them as they ate.

In a word: breathtaking.

Then, of course, things just had to get that bit more difficult. She should have seen it coming, she supposed- nothing was ever straightforward with the Doctor, not even dinner. But then again, Clara hadn't been quite expecting his younger regeneration to come striding in to the restaurant with a blonde on his arm halfway through desert.

"Doctor," Clara nudged his elbow with her hand, "is that you?"

He looked up from his banoffee pie and followed her spoon until he saw the man with the gelled brown hair and long flapping coat lead the blonde over to a table, pulling out a chair for her to sit in with a laugh before taking one directly opposite her. Very much like what he had done for Clara just shy of an hour ago. He quickly turned around and hurriedly tried to hide his face behind his napkin. Clara leaned across the table, strawberry ice-cream sundae forgotten.

"Who's the blonde?" Clara asked, more curious than anything else- she had always known that he had had lovers other than her, and she wasn't the jealous type. The Doctor looked at her warily, still trying to hide his distinctive features behind the square of white cloth.

"Rose Tyler, if you must know. We, er, travelled for a while."

"Are you sure you just travelled?" Clara raised her eyebrows pointedly at his past self as he held the blonde's- Rose's- hand and gave her a look full of adoration.

"Yes," the Doctor replied quickly. Too quickly. Clara narrowed her eyes at him then let out a huff of a laugh as he took her napkin to enlarge his shield.

"You do know that hiding behind napkins is just going to draw more attention to yourself than if you acted normal," Clara pointed out, "and besides, he shouldn't remember you anyway. Something about wibbly timelines?" She teased. He folded the napkins and hid behind his hands instead.

"In theory, yes," he whispered to Clara, "but us being here could trigger memories best left alone. We should leave. Now."

Clara nodded her agreement and clicked her fingers for the waiter. A few seconds later one came whizzing by, a tiny tablet-like device embedded in his forearm, a cloth slung over the arm of his black tuxedo.

"Do the couple wish to pay? Or will you require coffee?" He asked smoothly.

"Pay. We want to pay." The Doctor snapped, foot tapping on the floor impatiently as he watched his younger self out of the corner of his eye. He saw Clara glance at him resentfully and he berated himself for letting his younger self ruin their evening.

"We'll go somewhere else," he promised her, taking her hand across the table, "somewhere we won't be disturbed."

"Why Doctor," Clara purred, "you'll give a girl ideas."

Earlier on in their relationship if Clara had said that, the Doctor would have blushed and flapped his arms around, gasping like a fish out of water. As it was he just winked at her, reaching out the hand that wasn't occupied to enter his details on the man's tablet, mind already racing to the various secluded places that he could whisk her away to without the risk of stumbling across one of his former selves. Not taking his eyes off Clara he signed the the man's tablet lazily with one finger, smirking at her. Her cheeks tinged a subtle red and she looked shyly down at her now mostly melted ice cream, taking another mouthful of the rich desert.

Dinner paid for the Doctor rose from the table, offering his arm to Clara for her to take. Before she could, however, the waiter cleared his throat lightly. "Sir, I'm afraid we have to have your sonic imprint for you to pay for your meal."

The Doctor shrugged and, without thinking, whipped the Sonic from his pocket and played the green light over the tablet's screen, the device emitting a high pitched buzz that caught the attention of several of the restaurants other patrons.

Including the other Doctor and Rose.

Clara tapped her Doctor on the arm. "They've seen us," she hissed, nodding her head in their direction. The Doctor lifted a finger in the air at the same time as the other Doctor, both levelling their index at each other in the space of a second.

"Oops," said her Doctor, grabbing her by the hand, "Clara: Run."

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"Does he look familiar to you?" The Doctor asked Rose, pointing a finger at the young man with the quiff of brown hair. His companion shrugged, popping another chip into her mouth.

"No. Why, should he?" She answered, reaching for her flute of wine. The Doctor looked back at her, eyes widening as he noticed her chip and wine combo.

"Chips and wine?" he asked incredulously, "what are you, a Hoffsnapper?"

She laughed. "Trust you to..." she trailed off. "Doctor, look." She pointed an absurdly long chip, narrowing her eyes, "Is that what I think it is?"

"It's a sonic screwdriver," he breathed, eyes narrowing at the couple. The brunette saw him staring and tugged on the other man's arm, who turned and pointed before grabbing her hand and attempting to run. Alarm bells pealed in the Doctor's head and he leapt out of the chair and sprinted after them.

"C'mon!" he yelled back to Rose, who regretfully sacrificed her chips to catch up with her wayward Time Lord.

"Who are they?" Rose called to his back as she dodged her way past waiters and customers. She knocked into one and sent the tray of full wine glasses flying, shattering the glass and staining the plush white carpet a deep red. "Doctor!"

She lost sight of him when he skidded around a corner and upped her pace, legs slipping and sliding momentarily when the flooring changed from carpeted to laminate. When she rounded the corner Rose stopped dead, processing the situation in front of her. The Doctor was standing, sonic raised, pointing it at the man and the brunette who were standing back to back in the lobby.

That much Rose could make sense of.

The couple were surrounded by waiters- plastic waiters- their fingers hanging off on hinges revealing deadly laser guns underneath. Autons.

She could deal with that, too.

What caused her to gasp and take a step back, her eyes to widen and her breath to quicken, wasn't the immediate alien threat or the possibility of her death. It was the man in the purple tweed coat, left hand twined with the brunette's protectively, glaring threateningly at the Autons as he pointed a sonic screwdriver, turning in a circle -much in the same manner as her Doctor did.

Please vote/comment! The next chapter will be up in the next few days.