let's go dancing → barneswald

i. dreams and memories

"Don't say goodbye, James," she pleads. "Please." 

The soldier smirks. "What should I say, then?" 

The girl buries her face in his shoulder. "Just kiss me, you idiot. Kiss me and say you'll see me later." 

"Well." He hoists her onto the rickety table of his apartment. "That can be arranged." 

And they kiss like there's no tomorrow, which there might not be. The next morning, when he leaves her on her doorstep, he tells her, 

"See you 'round, darling." 

"Don't be late, sarge," she shoots back, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. 

And he hurries down the street, back hunched against the beating rain.  

It's the last time they see each other. 

 -

Clara opened her eyes, watery morning light filtering through the annoyingly filmy curtains of her apartment. She tried to hang onto the last moments of her dream, but they were already slipping away. There was a man, Jeremy or Julian or...was it James? Jamie? She couldn't remember. 

She sighed and swung her legs out of bed, turning off her alarm. Nothing she can do about it now. 

When she got into the kitchen, there was a familiar blue box standing in the corner, right in front of the fridge. She sighed and rapped sharply on the door of the TARDIS. 

"Ah, hello Clara!" the Doctor exclaimed, sticking his head out. 

"You're parked in front of my fridge." 

"Well..." He was silent for a moment, searching for an adequate comeback. "There's one in here!" 

Clara sighed again. "I'm not even dressed. It's Tuesday morning, Doctor. I have work today." 

"What do you even do at work?" 

"I teach people!" 

The alien rolled his eyes. 

"They can wait for one day." 

"Um, not really. I'll only come if you promise to drop me off at school. On time." 

"Fine. Fine, I'll do that. Just come!" 

And he dragged her into the box, the door swinging shut behind her. 

 -

"Here we are," the Doctor said, with a wide, dramatic swoop of his hand. "New York." 

"Why New York?" Clara questioned. She was becoming very suspicious of her friend's behavior. First, showing up at seven AM on a Tuesday, then making her find something in the TARDIS wardrobe to wear instead of her own clothes, and lastly, he was being actually nice to her. As in, properly nice. Normal-person nice. 

Clara, are you hungry? Should I make toast? Keep the clothes, consider them a gift from me. No, I can't tell you where we're going. It's a surprise. 

"Just because," he replied in that thick Scottish accent. 

She squinted a bit. "What are you up to?" 

"Me? Why would I be up to anything?" the alien replied, much too quickly. 

"It's a shame, Doctor." She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. 

"What is?" 

"That you're such a bad liar this time." 

The Doctor stood there for a moment, regarding her. Then he said,