"Besides the obvious, what is it you want, Clara?" he finally spoke out from between clenched teeth. "Or is this the way you always say good-bye?" Basically, PWP and set during Mummy on the Orient Express

Time to go, time to go. It echoes in her mind, every time she sees him (which is less and less frequently) but she knows she's stronger than that.

The silence swells between them and Clara feels the echo of loss. The loss of everything that was easy and comfortable between them, it has all turned to ashes and lay scattered at their feet. She is helpless and lost, determined and strong at the same moment.

He has never been good with silence. Words are his craft, his armor which he wields with a sarcastic smirk and a stark vengeance. But words tend to fail him in light of Clara. He never says the right things, he doesn't understand what he is supposed to do half the time and he always ends up waiting for her cues. So he says very little and he thinks these silences are creating a rif

When he told her he had found Gallifrey, he seemed so positive, so happy that she couldn't take that from him. She thought she owed him, owed him for her betrayal, for Danny, for all the lies and mistakes she had made since he changed. It was easy to curl her lips behind another false smile and a teasing tone. Never mind the wreckage that smile left behind.

She hesitates, unsure if she should even bother with him but there's something in the downturn twist of his mouth; something in the cast of his eyes that decides for her. She leans in and carefully presses her hand to his arm. She wants to feel the burn of his gaze but refuses to pull her hand away even as he stares everywhere but at her. He doesn't shift away and she accepts that

It's hard to pick up a relationship where it left off when you're really starting it all over again.