Whoops this took a while. But I made up for it with stargazing fluff (hopefully?)

It wasn't that Clara didn't want to speak to him, that wasn't the problem. The problem was, she simply couldn't. Every time she looked at him it was a stark reminder of everything the tabloids had printed and how ridiculous it was that the John Smith, society's darling and all around dreamboat, could possibly be interested in her.

At first she was more than happy to focus on the awful things they had written; the insults about her that would make her mum spin in her grave. Rather than looking at the suddenly much bigger issue, she turned her attention to the massive divide in the press who couldn't decide if they pitied her for being the next girl to fall for John or outright hated her for breathing in his general vicinity.

She chose to be hurt by the names they called her and the judgement they passed because it was so much easier than wondering if it was true. If all of it was true, even her supposed interest in John which they claimed she had. The interest that had her confused on where exactly she stood.

The more she allowed the thoughts to run wild in her brain the more she realised she just might be interested if she allowed herself for a single second.

Further thinking eventually led her to realising John would never be interested and for good reason too.
One look at any of the front pages could tell her exactly why he would never…could never be interested.

That doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

Just in case she didn't quite get the message the universe was sending, it made sure to add a little bit of salt to her newly formed wound. From now on, if asked, she couldn't even deny they were dating. She'd become known for being John Smith's biggest downgrade without ever actually getting to date him. As far as she was concerned it was just tad unfair.

Without even realising it, Clara had a new rule that formed over night: Don't fall in love.

It didn't matter how many times she had to say it, wether it took three times a day, she would learn that rule, keep it close to her heart and obey it.

John got off rather lightly in her opinion. Sure, they may have insinuated he was threatening but now Donna had put the 'protective' spin on the story every woman in Britain would be swooning and the tabloids would be lapping it up. Clara looked weak and feeble and pathetic in the shining light of his heroism. They weren't even calling her the beautiful heroine to his dashing saviour.

She was just there.

She rang her dad's number again, waiting for a response and dreading the sound of his and Linda's sickening couples voicemail playing again. Luckily, he actually bothered to pick up this time.

"Ok so industrial espionage for your 'security' has somehow led to me splattered across the press and somehow involved with the most outlandish man to ever walk the earth."

"Hello, and good evening to you too Clara."

"Hi." Clara deadpanned. She could not deal with whatever thinly veiled sarcasm he wished to share with her tonight. "Please do something. I don't want to go along with this- this…Scheme!"

"Linda and I think it's a rather good idea actually, you needed a greater presence in society."

"Well perhaps I could have started the 'Foundation for the Elderly Cats and Dogs Holiday Fund' not become another in a long line of disposable heiresses! I'm sure Linda thinks it's a great idea, this suits her perfectly!"

"Don't be insufferable Clara, it doesn't suit you." He sighed and Clara could have strangled him.

"Well what do you expect me to do? Carry on like it's true?"

"Why don't you actually get to know him? He can't be that bad and you've clearly already had some fun, I didn't think I'd catch you going to a theme park again in this lifetime." Clara could have sworn she heard Linda in the background say she knew all along Clara was making her fear up. Another person to add to the strangling list.

Clara was purposefully ignoring the part of her that knew John wasn't that bad, he wasn't that bad at all but it's easier to dislike him than love him.

Refer to rule one She almost hissed at herself.

"And what will getting to know him achieve? You wanted me to investigate their company to make sure it aligned with ours, you specifically mentioned it furthering my career within my own company yet here I am playing the corporate whore for you!"

"Clara! That's enough. Get to know him and that's an order." He didn't leave her much room to argue further as he hung up.

If he thought Clara getting to know John would help her prospects within a company thats board despised her very existence then she would know him inside out. No one set Clara Oswald a challenge she couldn't complete and this was no exception.

Phase One: Ask questions, subtly

When she envisioned her master plan she somehow didn't see herself failing at casually leaning against the kitchen island and asking what his favourite number was.

"Why on earth do you want to know that of all things?" He let out a throaty chuckle that definitely did not sound really nice and safe and just a tiny bit sexy-

Nope. Not today Clara.

"Well what if a member of the press were to ask me and I your 'not girlfriend' couldn't answer? I don't want to look bad because you can't supply the necessary information."

She tried not to grimace as he took another bite of the disgusting concoction of fish fingers and custard.

"Well I'd hate to let the side down," he gave her a small smirk and her stomach flipped- side note in master plan: may need to see a doctor- "It's eleven."

"Interesting choice, why might I ask?" This whole aloof casual thing did not look good on her.

"It's my Birthday, 11th of December. I'm a Sagittarius…probably. "

"Ah a Sagittarius we are a delightful breed."

"Well come on then, what's your favourite number?" The sarcastic jazz hands were not required in her master plan.

"Oh I've never really thought about it."

"What was the point in asking me if it was something you've never even thought about!?" He laughed incredulously. "I mean I just thought you were really into numbers."

"Thank you, that's enough of that." Clara didn't especially want to discuss what she was into with John Smith. "Following your logic I would say twenty three, that's my birthday- in November."

"Well not that this conversation about numbers isn't terribly thrilling but is there anything you wanted in particular?" He gestured the bowl of fish custard towards her and she couldn't wave her hand away fast enough. "Perhaps there is a specific reason you chose now to actually speak to me."

Abandon master plan, turn and run her head screamed at her because, of course, what could she possibly say?

'Ah yes John you see, I, the girl you constantly seem to enjoy winding up, have decided that I may have a tiny crush on you that isn't the size of a supernova, by the way I was lying about the supernova thing. It most definitely is.'

Somehow Clara couldn't see that going down particularly well. Instead she reverted to the next best thing: change the subject.


"What I don't understand is why you have all this space and you never use it, I mean I didn't even know you had a swimming pool until three days ago yet here we are in a kitchen of all places…" She was rambling and it was not helping her cause. No one said it had to be a good distraction that tiny voice said again and for once she was glad to agree.

"Ok if you'd like to take our conversation to the pool I am more than willing to ask why you weren't speaking to me while we play pirates." Sometimes she really wished he would stop smirking. Other times she really didn't.

"It was a shock to the system that's all, I'm not really used to putting on a persona or acting the part," she ran a hand along the marble countertop, "I mean that's all this is right? Playing the part?" She looked up at him with eyes that were quite possibly too earnest hoping for a certain response that wasn't going to come.

"You'll get used to it." The bowl clattered as he set it down much harsher than necessary. For a split second Clara had thought she'd hurt his feelings but the same beaming grin that promised everywhere looked out at her again and she knew that no one as insignificant as her could dent John Smith's impermeable armour.

"You should get some sleep, I've got us a big day planned of lounging around with the Ponds and you need to be well rested for that."

"You're probably right, I feel exhausted."

"Well I wasn't going to say anything but those bags under your eyes are getting a little big." On instinct he recoiled as she began swatting him with a nearby tea towel for his cheek. Somehow despite his deeply teasing nature Clara found that she never enjoyed herself more when he was making fun of her. Some part of her almost purred like a cat simply because he noticed her and it was rather worrying to say the least.

Phase Two: Utilise other assets AKA Amelia and Rory Williams (Apparently not Pond)

"You weren't joking." Phase two wasn't going fantastically well either.

"You're the one who said we never use the pool and now that I have so generously brought you here- with a swimsuit and everything this time might I add- you accuse me of joking. I'm wounded Clara Oswald truly." Why did he have to be so dramatic? And why was he so attractive when he was doing so?

The universe was not Clara's best ally today.

"Funnily enough, I'm not so sure it's the pool I think you're joking about but perhaps the pirate hats and swords? They aren't real are they? Jesus John please tell me those aren't real."

"Relax it's fine, if you're fighting Rory it's unlikely he'll get close enough to stab you." He must have sensed her terror at the idea of him being allowed anywhere near a sword before he broke out into a loud laugh that warmed her from the inside.

"Of course they aren't real Clara, seriously what do you take me for?"

"The kind of person who plays pirates in the pool when they are nearly thirty?"

"Oh no don't mention the t-word." Amy appeared out of no where taking a sword from John before acting like a swash buckling pirate, swiping at invisible enemies as she went.

"He hasn't quite registered that as a real number yet let alone his soon-to-be age." Rory chimed in. Unlike his wife he had ignored the swords and had gone straight to lazily swimming up and down the length of the pool.

"I have no clue what you are on about, I am still twenty one." John suddenly clashed swords with Amy beginning, what Clara supposed, was a mighty battle in some parallel universe.

"Yeah like a thousand years ago." Amy snorted.

"You're one to talk Pond," he cried as he gave an unnecessary spin before allowing their weapons to meet once more. "You're eyes are looking all liney."

Even Clara had the foresight to know he shouldn't have said that.

"I think we need drinks. Clara do you want a drink? I think I'm going to go get us all a drink." The speed in which Rory leapt out of the pool was mightily impressive but Clara didn't think it was going to do him much good.

"Rory. Do I have noticeable lines around my eyes now?"

"No." He should have turned around. Rookie mistake.

"You didn't look."

"I noticed them earlier- didn't notice them! I specifically remember not noticing them." Rory looked as if he was about to break into a sweat, desperate to be free of Amy's withering gaze. Eventually she had the kindness to realise him with a shake of her head.

"Go get the drinks Rory I'll have a lemonade- feel free to add any alcohol you choose."

"That will be none then." John smirked before Amy 'stabbed' him in the arm. "I'll have an alcohol- feel free to add any lemonade you choose."

"Very funny."

"Yes I amuse myself."

Clara smiled at the exchange between the two friends but she knew her best bet for information was to follow Rory.

"I'll come help you Rory." And with that she trailed after him to an actual bar they had in one of their hundred living rooms.

It was a classic room, like something from the 70's, it clearly hadn't been renovated like some of the rooms had, including Clara's own. The floor was a plush red carpet the kind you see in a function room of old halls when you go for a christening or a wedding of an aunt you haven't seen in twelve years. The bar was mahogany with a gold bar going round the bottom as if they were in a local pub.

Clara wondered if the room had been built as some sort of strange aristocratic joke. To design a room like a place you would never visit had to be some sort of twisted humour right?

"Help yourself to anything, the Dark One doesn't usually come in here." Rory called from behind the bar, still dripping wet from the pool.

"The Dark One?" Clara had a feeling she knew who he meant.

"John's dad."

She was right.

"We've been taking alcohol out of here for years, when we were at school it was the easiest way of getting hold of it. Once Thing one and Thing two figured out he didn't notice it went missing they began the road to alcoholism." Clara laughed at the terms of endearment he gave John and Amy but she couldn't help but wonder if he ever felt left out, being the sensible one in their trio.

"What are you thinking?" Rory cocked an eyebrow.

"What? Oh nothing really I was just wondering…" Now or never Clara, she knew phase two had to start somewhere might as well start big. "Wether you would tell me about Rose Tyler?"

Rory Williams actually smirked. The straight laced, kind soul, nurse Rory Williams smirked. Clara wasn't sure what was more terrifying: the fact that he knew how to smirk or why he was smirking.

"If you don't want to that's fine I was just wondering that's all." Clara was backtracking but if it stopped whatever was happening on Rory's face then no one could stop her.

"No, no I'll tell you anything you want to know it's just an interesting thing to be curious about that's all." That's a start. She could take him silently judging her as long as she found out everything she needed.

"Ok, well start from the beginning?" Clara hopped up onto a leather bar stool.

"Well they met at Uni," Rory began.

Oxford University, 7 Years ago

"Come along Pond, It's an adventure!" John cried as he dragged a grumbling ginger along the corridor behind him.

"This is not an adventure this is a party and I, for one, am sick of parties or 'adventures' because we had an 'adventure' last night and the night before that and the night before the night before that!" John was not deterred as he gripped her hand harder and pulled her up the stairs to a flat, which he assumed was where the party was at by the blaring music.

He opened the door and the sound immediately hit him, quickly followed by the smell of spilt beer.

"Come on Pond get into the spirit of things." He passed her a bottle from a plastic table set up by the wall and just like magic Amy had entered the party. She promptly let go of his hand to set herself centre stage as she began dancing in the middle of whoever's living room this was.

If she kept moving her hips that slowly John might have to call Rory who was currently studying for a big test.

It was no surprise John and Amy had been accepted but a few strings had been pulled for Rory on the promise of exemplary results and a new computer lab.

John made the rounds of the room saying hi to friends and making new ones with ease. He stopped by the kitchen for a sip of his drink which was when he saw her across the room as if they were in some 2000's romcom with him zoning in on the way she laughed.

The girl in question he knew was Rose Tyler. The blonde hair with dark roots upswept onto her head would have been a dead giveaway if it weren't for the famous tongue and teeth smile the paparazzi loved to praise.

She turned to meet his eyes, obviously noticing his gaze on her and for a second his heart stopped as she gave him her acclaimed smile. He could have died on the spot and he would have died happy.

She excused herself from her conversation and with her drink in hand she had nearly sashayed over to him, confident in herself and her extremely short skirt.,

"Hi, I'm Rose Tyler."

"I know." He blurted and John had never felt so uncool, so out of control in his entire life. When she laughed, however, and touched her hand to his arm, he could have sailed through time and space.

3 Weeks Later

"You're crazy." She giggled as she looked at the tickets in his outstretched hand.

"Not crazy…spontaneous."

"Call it what you like I'm not jetting off to Venice with you, we've only been dating for three weeks we should probably wait a little while?" She looked amused with his antics which was a good sign.

"Yes and I bought them two weeks ago therefore I already have waited."

"This John Smith is why I called you crazy and not spontaneous. What if we get seen? You try explaining to my parents and I'm assuming your parents that we are just being 'casual', I'm sure you'd give them a heart attack!"

"Well we just won't get seen then."

"And how do you plan on doing that then Oh wise one?" She rose her eyebrow in that adorable way that made him actually think for once. If he knew that in just six short months that eyebrow would become the bane of existence he may have admired it for just a little bit longer.

"I am the master of disguise, I can go as Elvis and you can go as the pretty young thing on my arm." He rejoiced internally as she laughed and swatted his arm.

"In your dreams pal."

They went to Venice.

3 Months Later

"Jesus Christ Rose what do you expect me to do!?" He practically screamed waving his hands around like a mad man trying to get through to the obstinate woman stood across the living room.

"Oh I don't know John but when your father tries to discuss marriage with you, -to ME let me remind you- don't change the subject or choke on your drink!" He expected the neighbours may be down soon to complain about their noise level.

"It's been four months! You were the one who said we should go slow and casual, we only got spotted because you had to have chips at bloody midnight! Are you surprised the whole world wants us to get married?" He ran a hand through his hair as he became steadily wearier with this fight. "I'm only twenty one, I don't want to think about marriage yet."

"In our life it's inevitable John and it's likely going to be with me so why are you so panicked about it?" She glared at him, her eyes that usually remind him of sunlight and happiness stared him down, dark and cold.

He loved her, he really did. Well he supposed he did. Which was why he was so surprised at the way his stomach lurched at the idea of marrying her. Not marriage- but her.

John didn't know what to do. It was all too much too soon and he had fun with Rose, they travelled and went to concerts and she was friendly with the Pond's. Sometimes she could be a bit demanding sure but that came with the socialite territory and he had met Jackie Tyler; in a way he was coming out lucky in comparison to Pete.

Sometimes he looked at her and she was his best friend and nothing more. He didn't really know what to do with that information.

Instead he crossed the room and pressed his mouth to hers, eager to end the argument just so he didn't have to think anymore about all of the things she was telling him and all of the things he was telling himself.

His hands were in her hair and she was clawing at his back as he lead her back to his bedroom and as much as he was enjoying it, the overwhelming feeling of something not being right settled in the back of his mind and he knew it would refuse to leave.

7 Months Later

"Are we going to Ian and Barbara's wedding?" Rose called out in a bored tone.

"Yeah I suppose we best had," John replied in an equally monotone voice.

He wasn't entirely sure when it had become like this. At first she was all he thought about, what would make her laugh and where he could take her. He would talk endlessly at Rory and Amy about every little thing Rose did just because he cared about her so much. Then the fighting began- but he didn't really mind, the making up was worth it.

Somehow they had ended up here. Living together but completely disconnected. He felt like everything was an obligation, even sex, and he didn't know how to fix it. Admittedly, John Smith didn't know a rather lot of things.

The papers seemed to adore them and every time they were in public it felt like a show, as if he were performing the love of 'Romeo and Juliet' rather than living it. Rose didn't seem to mind and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Then again he plodded along, doing as he was told, booking restaurants and showing up with a smile perhaps she was doing the same.

It was like he missed her. He was near her all the time but he wasn't really. He just wanted his friend back.

In hindsight, that should have been a warning sign.

Two Years Later

"Well John I never thought I'd see it but you've done well." John knew it was a backhanded compliment but he took the praise from his father anyway, it was very hard to come by if your name was John and you were his son. "You're doing your masters and you've got a wonderful girlfriend of the right…pedigree." Jesus he talked about her like she was an animal.

"Thank you Sir." All he had to do was grin and bear it for one afternoon.

"It's been a few years now and I think we all know that you and Rose will be getting married."

No, John thought, I'm not quite sure we did all know that.

"That's why, I got your grandmother's ring from the vault, it's the Newman ring not the Smith as your mother obviously has that one but I thought you might take the chance and propose." His father opened up a black, velvet box to reveal a ring with three, large diamonds at the centre surrounded by small diamonds along the band. It glistened in the light of the sun and it looked beautiful. Yet it filled John with an overwhelming sense of dread.

Rose's father Pete Tyler was also present and clearly on board, willing to give his blessing to someone who was not ready to receive it.

John knew he was spontaneous. He moved fast, he did things that he wanted to do when he wanted to do them, but those things were right for him. In his heart he knew when something was right (not that he'd ever admit that to Amelia for fear of being torn to shreds with mockery) and this was not right.

All the time in the world couldn't make this right.

He supposed there was nothing he could do about it now.

He took the ring wordlessly which was taken as a sign of him agreeing to marry Rose, which in a way it was. His father immediately poured them all a scotch in celebration and John would be ashamed to admit how quickly he swallowed his.

As he prepared to leave the house, palms sweating in terror at the idea of what was coming, his mother came round the corner.

"Hello my little Wanderer," she touched a hand to his cheek and he felt like a child again. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her touch and become a little boy running away from school again, rather than a grown man running away from marriage, if he dared.

"Not so little anymore mum," he joked trying to seem like his usual self.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to my darling, you know that don't you?" She looked at him with such profound understanding in that one moment that he couldn't hold it in for any longer. No one could understand him like that even if they tried every day for the rest of their lives, it still wouldn't equal his mother in this one instance.

"I can't do it mum." He sunk into the armchair in the hall, his head in his hands as he finally allowed himself to acknowledge everything he had been suppressing. A sob wracked through his body as she knelt beside him.

"Do you love Rose?"

"Yes, I think so, of course I do."

"So much you find it impossible to talk about?" He met her eyes, the kindest eyes he had ever seen and built up the courage to shake his head.

"Verity!" His father called from down the hallway. His mother rose up, smoothing her skirt as she went. She called out a quick "I'm coming" before returning to John.

She ran her hand over his hair, a pitying smile painted across her face.

"I think you know what you have to do my darling Wanderer." With that she turned to go, leaving John tear-stained and frightened for what came next.

He held onto the ring for two weeks. He knew Rose had seen it by the way she suddenly had to get a different manicure from her usual French style. He knew Rory had seen it by the way he lectured him for one hour and twenty three minutes on the importance of love over duty. He knew Amy had seen it by the way she swiped it from his coat pocket and told him he wasn't happy and he was going to continue not being happy.

At the end of the two weeks he told Rose he couldn't marry her. At the end of the two weeks he lost one of his best friends. At the end of the two weeks he hadn't lost a soulmate.

He returned the ring to the vault much to his father's vocalised disappointment and he tried being free.

"Rose was fun, I liked her, John liked her and I think Amy liked her but honestly I'm not sure at this point, but Rose was a creature of duty to her family in a way John and Amy never have been."

Clara had finished one glass of coke in the time Rory took to tell her his tale and she was quite certain the others were wondering where they had got to but she wasn't going to miss this for the world.

Like the rest of the country she had fully believed in the love story of John and Rose that many declared had ended due to timing and the star crossed lovers would find each other again. Yet here she was, hearing how John didn't want to marry her at all and for some unknown reason she couldn't stop the little spark of joy that filled her at the idea.

They eventually made their way back towards the pool, however, Clara wasn't focused on the twists and turns of this maze of a house for once. Instead she allowed her mind to whirl, trying to comprehend all she had learnt.

She knew for certain that John wanted perfection or at least that's the first place her mind went. He didn't want to settle and that knowledge terrified her. The question about their own charade sprung to mind and she wondered if this was another case of duty? What if he wasn't able to walk away again and she was stuck married to someone she was starting to love when he certainly didn't love her?

Phase Three: Work Out How John Feels (If at all possible)

"Come on," he held onto her hand, almost dwarfing it in size as he pulled her up the stairs.

"I can't believe you have a turret, who on earth has an actual real life turret?" Clara was grinning ear to ear as they ran up the round stone staircase. For a single moment she could have been in a fairytale if it wasn't for the towel she was aggressively drying her hair with.

"I do." He said as they stopped at an old wooden door which was so small even Clara had to duck slightly. She definitely did not find it very adorable when John had to nearly half himself to fit through.

Inside the rounded roof of the turret was stars. Painted across the rounded room was constellations and planets and meteors in the most beautiful detail that Clara may as well have been stood in outer space. Colours of the deepest blue to the most stunning amethyst swarmed her as if the galaxy had been given to her.

"Do you like it?" He asked her almost sheepishly and the urge to kiss this ridiculous man, who can brandish a fake sword with confidence but holds his heart in painted stars, almost overwhelmed her.

"Oh my- well my stars," Clara joked over the sudden accuracy of her mother's phrase. "It's wonderful."

"My grandfather painted it when the company started work in space travel, I think it's the greatest room in this whole place." He leaned against the wall his arms folded as a star exploded behind him.

"I think you might be right."

Clara laid back down on the smooth stone floor and looked up like she really was stargazing. She could almost hear John considering in his head wether he was able to join her before he flopped down next to her.

His hand rested on the floor, inches from hers so she could feel the warmth radiating from it and if she moved her own ever so slightly closer in the hopes he would hold her hand that's her own little secret.

They sat and stared for a while as time ticked on and she could see twilight settling in on the sky through the slits the tower called windows. She didn't stop to consider why he was here with her when his two best friends were downstairs for a limited time only. She didn't wonder why he only invited her and not Amy and Rory.

"Amy and Rory don't actually know this place exists." Clara was suddenly very worried that he could mind read.

Clara wasn't exactly sure what to say. She couldn't tell wether he was insinuating that they wouldn't like it up here or wether he only wanted to show her. Sometimes he says so much but so very little.

Instead he carried on.

"Some of it isn't real, my grandfather had quite the imagination so when I was watching him paint he would add little planets for me like that one over there," he pointed up to a golden pyramid. "That's Akhaten and that one over there is Raxacoricofallapatorius." Clara burst out laughing at the ridiculous name.

"So you've taken me up here to show me something awesome huh?" She teased.

"I'd like to think so yes," he attempted to smirk but Clara noticed his slight blush.

"Mission accomplished." She breathed.

Do you feel safe?" He blurted after some further silence.

"Of course," Clara responded slightly bemused.

"Give me a number out of ten, ten being 'woohoo' and one being 'ahhhh'"

"You're being weird, why are you asking me this?" Clara turned her head on the ground to face him, trying desperately hard to ignore how close they were. So close she could feel his breath on her neck.

"After the whole incident, people chasing you down, calling you…" he trailed off and Clara saw his fist clench. She touched her hand to his, silently asking for access which he granted allowing her to slip her hand in his once more. "Pretending what my father wants us to pretend, anything could happen."

"Thats what I'm counting on." She didn't miss the way his eyes flicked to her lips for the briefest of moments and she said a silent prayer that he felt the same way as her even for just this minute.

If that was all she was going to get, she'd take this wonderful minute.

They lay there. Just staring at each other as their heads were turned toward one another. Clara forgot the cold, hard feel of the floor underneath her and she could have been floating on a cloud, as long as he kept looking at her like that. The only sounds filling the room were of soft breaths as both of them refused to move in fear of ending the tension or making the wrong move forward, until finally he broke the spell leaving Clara bitterly cold.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice over him and he was up in a flash and down the stairs without another word.

Clara sat up, her head slightly numb from the stone floor but that was nothing in comparison to the sting of rejection she felt coursing through her veins. She couldn't understand what she had done. For a split second she had even thought he was going to kiss her but she shook that silly notion from her head.

She wanted to lay there forever under the false stars, in a pretend universe where everything else could be as fake as the constellations above including feelings.

However, Clara Oswald doesn't mope. Instead she picked herself up and walked down the spiral staircase with her head held high.

"He's never taken us up there," Amy called from behind a new novel she was considering publishing.

"Well we aren't his very special friend are we?" Rory attempted to say whilst brushing his teeth for bed.

"Do you think he declared his undying love to her or at least kissed her senseless," Amy taunted with a hand to her forehead. She knew fine well nicely he would do no so such thing.

"The day the Doctor is ever open about his feelings is the day the universe gets rebooted," Rory slipped into bed beside her.

"Big Bang two," Amy mocked.

"Yeah, when those two admit how they feel it will be Big Bang Two."

1) References: Verity is his mother's name in the family of blood so I thought I'd stick with that.
The rest should be fairly obvious, I'm not exactly subtle.
I did get the chance to include one of my all time favourite exchanges of the Doctor asking Clara if she feels safe (allow me to dream someone could ask me that)

2) This is not meant to be bad on Rose Tyler because I love her so I tried my best to walk the line of right but not right, but let's be real she belongs with Ten anyway

3) The Sagittarius thing is an actual reference so it's not just inserting myself into the story because it IS the best star sign

4) This has a different title to the version on Ao3 simply because it wouldn't let me put the full thing :(

5) Please leave a review or favourite if you enjoyed!