The Rose & Crown

Chapter Eight

The next sound he heard was the chiming of the Comasphere. He opened his eyes and searched his surroundings. He was back in the auction room at the present time. His connection with Missy and the Persuader had vanished, leaving him alone in his mind once again. He suddenly felt a tug at his shoulder.

"Doctor?" Clara's voice called as his body regained all of its senses. "Doctor! Are you alright?"

"Clara?" He turned towards the sound of her voice. His head ached from all it had been through. But he was so glad to see her unharmed, he ignored the pain. He took her hands in his and kissed them each. "I'm okay," he assured her. Before she could say anything more, they were interrupted by another voice in the room.

"Congratulations on your winnings, Mr and Mrs Smith," Missy announced with a grin. "And as always, we give our thanks for your very generous donation to our cause." The guests turned their heads towards the couple to applaud them. The Doctor remained speechless as the memory of their deal floated to the surface of his mind.

"Doctor?" Clara called over the clapping and cheering. "What did you give her?"

He tried to avoid her gaze as the look of dread consumed his expression. He could think of nothing to say in reply. It was only a matter of time before he would have to tell her the truth. Only a matter of time before she would notice her body showing signs of what they had done. It was a secret he just couldn't keep. But not here, not now. Not with all these prying eyes. "It's not important," he lied. "Let's just collect the TARDIS and get as far away from here as possible."

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Clara hung the dress in the wardrobe and ran her hand along the fabric as if thanking it for allowing her to wear it. She thought about the night's events. The Doctor seemed rather upset after departing from Prima Nova, but refused to speak about it, nor tell her how he regained the TARDIS and the key. He was distant, hurrying to get them out of there. She hardly ever saw him like that. All she could determine was he had let Missy get the best of him yet again. Shouldn't he be thrilled they had the ship back? Things could finally go back to normal now that they weren't running around the universe trying to decipher the meaning behind a piece of paper. So why was he so angry? Usually, she just ignored him when he was this way. When he fell into one of his moods.

She left the wardrobe and headed towards the control room. Her mind wandered with the thought of why Missy brought them there. She expected to run into a nearly inescapable trap they would have to fight their way through. She wondered what happened while he was under the effects of the Comasphere. He seemed surprised to see her, though it felt as if only moments had passed since he went into his trance and was released from it.

As she made her way to the stairs, she heard metal clanking loudly as if something had fallen above her. She hesitated, listening in. But, then there was silence. She continued up the stairs and stopped as she reached the top. The room was in utter dismay. Things had been thrown everywhere. Chairs and tables turned over, books pulled from their shelves. Pieces of the console were sprawled around as if they had been ripped out. She carefully stepped over the clutter, looking for the source. She saw the Doctor half-lying on the couch on the upper platform; the only piece of furniture untouched by his wrath. His face was hidden beneath his arm. She cautiously approached and took a seat beside him on the remaining cushion. She waited a bit, just letting him know she was there if he needed to talk. After a moment, she finally spoke. "Redecorating?" she asked, trying to keep the mood light. She heard a small snicker from under his sleeve.

"I felt the place could use a bit of sprucing up," he replied.

"Ah, I'm almost afraid to see what it looks like it when it's finished," she teased. She watched as he slowly sat up. His clothes were dishevelled and askew, his hair was a mess. He placed his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands.