for Dee

[parallels]

[Clara sits on the chair of the TARDIS. Her fingers wind around the discarded bowtie that she'd rescued from the floor.

They hadn't crashed. Of course not. The Doctor would never have let that happen. Because he was the Doctor.

And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of being in a room that belonged to someone that had been lost. It was silly. Childish even. The Doctor had just been there and asking her where she wanted to go in that funny new Scottish accent of his. She'd given him a smile (so taut that she felt her face might shatter) and sent him off to the wardrobe. Purple didn't really fit anymore.

She twist the bowtie around her fingers like a sort of security blanket. She wasn't ready to let go.]

Comments

[sharp]

[ Amy doesn't know how she's here or why, but somehow that doesn't seem important. Life is ridiculous and it's a mess and sometimes you just need to be somewhere at a certain time. And so she is. Here is Amy Pond, storyteller and once creator of universes, sitting in the TARDIS after all these years because she needs to be.

She sits on the stairs, chin perched on top of the railing as she watches Clara. It feels like she knows her when really she doesn't at all — must be a companion thing. (Plus she sees a lot of herself in her right now.) ]

Probably wasn't a good idea to let him go alone. Who knows what he'll come out with, yeah?

[parallels]

[Clara jumps and stumbles to her feet as if preparing to fight off an attacker, despite the rather jovial tone of the intruder. Her still wet eyes dart around until they settle on a woman. A beautiful woman, with shockingly ginger hair, and legs that seem to go on forever.

If Clara weren't so heartbroken, she'd probably be blushing.

She stares at the other woman and then suddenly something clicks in her mind. Like a memory surfacing from deep within her.]

You're her. You're Amelia.

[sharp]

Amy, actually. Idiot never could let go of that.

[ She shakes her head, thinking on it for a moment until she shrugs it off. Then she lifts herself up so that she's standing. She wanders closer to the console. It's changed, but she still runs over fingers over it like she remembers each button and lever. ]

And you're— [ she turns quickly, pointing her finger. ] Clara.

[parallels]

Amy. Right, sorry.

[She grins weakly in apology before letting out a breathy laugh at calling the Doctor an "idiot". She'd done it all the time but for now it felt a little inappropriate. A nagging voice int he back of her head said it was like making fun of the dead.

She swallows and hiccups, much to her embarrassment.]

How did you know?