#clara oswald fic

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Lady Oswald (Clara Oswald x reader)

Summary: when traveling in Victorian era London, you and Clara slip away to have some much more private fun

Warnings: SMUT, vaginal fingering (Clara receiving), gender neutral reader, playful/giggly sex, roleplay (Clara pretends to be a high class Victorian lady while you tempt her away from her unsuspecting husband), brief swearing

A/N: roleplay sex must happen at some point in the whoniverse given how often they pop around to different time periods and dress up accordingly. this fic helps reflect that because I'm a whore for Clara in Victorian clothing

"My, Lady Oswald, you sure do look lovely this evening," you praised highly as your eyes scanned her beautifully dressed frame with obvious interest.

She let out a soft giggle at your flirtation, giving you a half curtsey as a means to humor you. "Why, thank you. You don't look so bad yourself."

You smirked at her response, casually making your way closer. "Tell me, how are things with your husband?" Your tone held underlying disdain for the fictional figure you were referring to.

"Oh, he's out of town again. He leaves me alone for weeks at a time, would you believe it?" Clara did a good job playing the role of a dissatisfied housewife, you had to admit. "I get so lonely, staying in that big house all by myself."

"Oh, I'm sure you do," you openly sympathized, your hands leaving some not-so-subtle touches along her waist and lower back as you spoke. "You know, if I was married to you, I'd never leave you alone."

"I can believe that. From the way it seems by how you're touching me, you'd never let me have a free moment to myself," she jokingly pointed out, though she made no attempts to move away from you, and in fact moved towards your touch.

"Perhaps we should go somewhere more private," you suggested in a low murmur as your hands settled on her hips. "You might be a bit more comfortable away from prying eyes."

Her eyes lit up at the mention of getting to be alone with you. "How thoughtful of you." She leaned in closer so that her face was mere inches away from yours, a mischievous smirk in her eyes. "Well then, lead the way."

You did just that, taking her hand in yours and finding a secluded room in the expensively furnished house. Your lips were on hers as soon as the door shut behind you, kissing her with all the built up passion you had within you.

She moaned softly into the kiss, her arms reaching up to wrap around your neck, pulling you in close. "What would my husband say if he found me now?" She mused out loud, causing you to let out a chuckle at how she was still playing into the role she'd chosen for herself.

"He doesn't ever have to find out, so you don't need to worry about it." One of your hands slipped down to start pulling up the bottom of her dress, eliciting a gasp from her in mock offense.

"How dare you! I'm a married woman," she said in an over the top manner, acting as of you'd just committed a crime. You rolled your eyes affectionately at her dramatics.

"Oh, please. If anything, you should be upset that he never bothers to touch you the same way I do," you lightly teased, your hands fighting to find the end of the long, flowy piece of fabric. "God damn it, just how long is this thing?"

Clara snorted in laughter at your visible frustration. "Here, let me help you with that." She pull the skirt part of her dress up far enough for you to slip your hand under it with ease.

"Oh, thank God. It was either that or untying your corset, and I really did not want to have to fight with that," you commented as your hand moved underneath her dress, caressing her thigh.

She smiled in amusement at your words, biting her lip at the feeling of your hand against her. "I guess it's a good thing I decided to forgo the stockings, then."

"Mm, a very good thing." Your fingertips tiptoed up the soft flesh of her thighs until you found the waistband of her underwear, pulling it down just enough for you to slip your hand beneath it.

Gasping at the sudden friction of your fingers against her folds, she arched her back and pushed her hips closer towards your hand. "Oh, God yes..."

You didn't spend long teasing her, as she was already plenty wet. Slipping two fingers inside her, you leaned your body into hers, your lips brushing against her jaw as you slowly thrusted in and out. "There you go... That's it, sweetheart..."

She whimpered in pleasure, turning her head in your direction and capturing your lips in a tender and loving kiss. "It feels so good, please don't stop," she mumbled against your lips, a soft moan coming from her as your fingers moved deeper.

"I won't, sweetheart, I promise," you reassured her gently, moving your fingers in and out of her in a slow and steady rhythm. Her soft pants and moans began filling the room the longer you touched her for, her hands reaching out to grip onto the front of your coat.

"Oh- oh, God-" She tilted her head back against the wall, closing her eyes as she embraced the pleasure washing over her. "I- I think I'm getting close-" She warned you, her hips starting to move in sync with your hand.

You nodded as you picked up the pace, your other hand finding its way down between her legs so that you could rub her swollen and sensitive clit. A loud moan exited from her lips at the feeling, and it wasn't long after that her body tensed up as she came, clinging to you desperately.

Panting heavily, she pressed her face into your chest while you slipped your fingers out of her and murmured soft words of praise in her ear. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."

A bashful grin covered her face as she peered up at you. "Would it be too much for me to ask for a round two?" You simply let out a laugh as you pulled her in for another kiss.

You both returned at least another twenty minutes later, hastily fixing your outfits so hopefully no one would realize what you'd been doing. Clara's hair was sticking somewhat to her forehead from sweat, and her makeup was a little smudged, but otherwise you didn't think anyone would notice that something was off.

"Where on earth have you two been? I've been looking for you for ages!" The Doctor's voice asked as he popped up from seemingly out of nowhere, quickly making his way over to you.

"Oh, we just got a bit lost, that's all," you lied casually, Clara giggling as you shot her a playful wink. "Shall we, m'lady?" You held out one of your arms to her as you spoke in a playful manner.

She took it gladly, looping her hand through with a bright smile. "After you, my dear," she responded in an equally playful way. The two of the gave each other a knowing look, leading the Doctor to wonder just what the two of you had been up to when you were gone.

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[dandelionjack]

the ninth doctor trusted rose enough to believe she would stay with him after his face changed. and twelve took some convincing but towards the end of deep breath accepted that clara would stay by his side no matter how old he looked. but thirteen was so used to losing people. her previous self had loved clara and lost her, he had looked after bill and failed to save her, he had tried to redeem missy and (to his knowledge) lost that cause too. no wonder she wouldn’t trust yaz to stay for her fourteenth face. no wonder she believed she ‘had to do this next part alone’. she had grown quietly distant with the new knowledge that she was no longer even an ordinary gallifreyan, not something of this universe, but outside of it, alien even to the aliens. isolated and inaccessible, standing on an invisible pedestal her ancestors placed her on — a pedestal that more resembled a cage. glass walls on all sides like the forced regeneration chamber. thin glass wall between her and yaz now, transparent but too solid to break through. harder than azbantium when there’s no solid footing to stand on.

of course yaz would run when she saw her new self. of course she would leave. companions would never stay now, they would never fully understand. when thirteen said that she would need to do ‘this next part’ alone, by ‘next part’ she meant ‘the rest of her (potentially eternal) life’. it’s the classic gambit: push the one you love away before they get the chance to reject you. because they always will, now. either that or they die in horrible circumstances. better to flee like you’ve always done.

this is why the bigeneration was a narrative necessity, why the giggle was the perfect vision of a positive finale. the original version of the doctor gets to settle down with people that he won’t lose. people that he won’t turn away from. people whose hearts he won’t inevitably break. he’s sitting there in the back yard and he’s not going anywhere…

…yet somewhere out there in sheffield lives a police officer named yazmin khan. she’s not all sunshine and rainbows — all cops are bastards, after all. sometimes she takes her nameless rage out on a shoplifting suspect. sometimes she hands a parking ticket to a kid that didn’t deserve it. and sometimes she does genuine good for the community, sometimes she goes to the club and dances with strangers, sometimes she sits on the sofa and watches a documentary about space exploration and laughs at the painful inaccuracies. and many miles south, the doctor spends time with his family, but he’ll never get the courage to visit her. because she’d want to run away with him again. and he could never give her that, not anymore. anything but running.

yazmin khan loved the universe in the eyes of her doctor. oh, that doctor in the garden? the stay-at-home-doctor? he’s brilliant, but he would never be enough for her. his presence would never replace the cosmic vistas and myriads of stars thirteen gave her. and she’s never coming back

[the-immortal-redshirt]

The things poor Clara has to do to get a kiss

For @rumple04 's grumpy Grinch/ugly Christmas sweater Creative Evenings prompt

Please do not repost without credit!

[lilbeanz-wibblywobbly]

"And then the Doctor’s extremities exploded into dazzling golden light. Clara felt the energy shooting through her and realized that, if she could still feel pain, she would probably be in agony, maybe dead. Instead, she felt nothing but beautiful warmth."

Absolutely got inspired by this gorgeous concept of a fic: The Mad Idea by TheSaddleman/ @anotheruserwithnoname

What a beautiful, beautiful fic🥹 The image of Clara embracing the Doctor as he regenerates would not leave my mind and so I just had to draw it🤩

Thank you, you inspirational genius✨️

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Doctor Who is a story where humans make themselves gods, become myths staining the tapestries of the universe, and the last member of a race of gods is made human, cowardly and vulnerable and kind in a way no other god would dare make themselves and this is the very thing that allows the god-made-human to survive and even win at the end of the day (and the very thing that often dooms the humans-made-gods)

[petercapaldifan1]

DOCTOR WHO THE TWELFTH DOCTOR ADVENTURES FAN FIC STORY EPISODE 1 : THE KINGDOM'S FALL✨MY FAN FIC DRAW POSTER I HOPE EVERYONE LIKE IT THANKS🤩

[colemansdimple]

“I love you. Simple as that. You gave me a reason to be. You drive me crazy. You inspire me. You show me wonders. You are my best friend. You are the only man I would never lie to, the only man I will always forgive. I don't care how many came before me and how many will come after I'm gone. But this version of you owns my heart, and it's last beating will be for you.”

“Clara...”

*12 carefully touches Clara's hand like she's about to detonate*

“Don't, please. If you're going to say that timelord and human nonsense again I don't need to hear it. Just, please, these words, from me to you, they're yours now. Keep them or throw them away, I don't care.”

*12 holds Clara's small hand in his and places it on his chest, so she can feel his hearts beating*

“I can't promise us more time. I can't promise there won't be others. But I can promise you this, Clara, my Clara, one of these hearts will always and forever beat for you and only you. To the end of this universe and the beginning of the next. Until all the stars and planets are cold and dust and forgotten. It will still beat for you. And I can only hope that's enough.”

“That is enough, you stupid old man.” :')

[icarianstars]

Does anyone have any recs for Doctor Who fics on AO3?

I'm open to pretty much any ships but my favourites are thoschei, twelveclara and tenrose (Also some platonic 14 & Donna fluff sounds great rn)

I'd prefer nothing explicit and no mcd but other than that I think I'll read pretty much anything

[soulless-angel25]

New Who fic idea: Victorian Clara is no stranger to throwing buckets of water over the drunks in the alley behind the tavern in order to wake them up from their drunken comas and move them along home for the night. Then one day, she empties a bucket of water over a certain American immortal having to wait through time for the TARDIS to arrive once more following his recent resurrection.

[Ohhhh, Anon I love you <3 I never get to write Victorian Clara! And adding in Cpt. Jack? You are a person after my own heart you are. It turned out more angsty then I expected but... that's how it goes somedays.] AO3 Link!

Clara was more than used to having to deal with the drunks outside the tavern, the ones who have just stumbled out into the streets after wasting all their money on cheap alcohol. The ones who sank against the outside walls moaning in their own misery, the ones who would try to get ladies to come home with them (herself included). She was also used to the ones who would end up in the alley behind the tavern.

For those ones she was often told to fill a bucket with water from the spicket and pour it over their heads. Then she would help them help, maybe hail a carriage if she could and get the person home. Of course it was a tad more annoying on the nights when she had to go and be a governess.

Shaking her head and sighing Clara brought herself out of her thoughts. She hauled the bucket back up from her slipping grip and used her hip to open the door. She looked down at the man who was leaning against the wall, not quite asleep but getting close. Clara could admit that he was a handsome man, with messy brown hair that had streaks of blonde running through, near invisible. A long pair of black trousers and high-laced brown boots. A partial shirt with a pair of strings at the top to pull the shirt closed and a long coat.

Rolling her eyes she upended the bucket over his head. Sputtering and gasping sounds came from the man as he shot up like a bullet. Clara's hand settled on her hip as the other fell to her side with the bucket -now emptied- dangling.

"You sober enough to get yourself home?" the question was asked in her usual cadence, meaning she sounded like she cared just enough.

-

When Jack's eyes opened it was from the startling cold he felt over his head. How was he- right. He couldn't stay dead, it always took a moment for his brain to remember that. How funny he died from too much alcohol this time, not even good alcohol.

His brain flickered back to when he'd been with Him and Rose. They'd gone out for drinks one night ("No ginger, Time Lords can't have ginger Jack") on some planet ("Oh... Jack! Doctor! Look at the sky, you can see so much..."). Just the three of them, dancing soaring through time and space on the TARIDS.

"-self home?"

The end of the sentence filtered through his brain, and though he probably would've been able to piece together what the woman had said his mouth was faster then his brain, "What?"

She rolled her eyes, a fake smile plastered on as she spoke again- he noticed an empty bucket at her side, was that where the cold water had come from?- slowly. To make sure he would understand, she probably thought he was too wasted, which was a fair assumption.

"Are ya sober 'nough to get yourself home?"

Jack's voice was soft when he spoke. "Don't got no home anymore. Home's gone." Home's gone. Those words didn't even properly convey what it meant. Home was gone, he never knew if it was coming back. He never knew if He was coming back, never knew if he'd get to wrap his arms around Rosie again and hear her laughter.

He could feel his mind drifting, going back to that day. When he'd last seen them ("I was better a coward."), when he'd last touched them. Tears falling from Rose's eyes.

Jack's head snapped back to reality when he realized that the woman -had she said her name?- was awkwardly clearing her throat. Expecting an answer to whatever question she had asked. Sighing she repeated herself.

"You have an inn your staying at?"

detach yourself Jack, you aren't there. "Nah, no inn currently. Was gonna find someplace though." detachdetachdetach

The woman -should he ask her name?- shakes her head, "'right. C'mon," and she leans down to make sure he stands straight up and won't collapse. "There should be a few rooms open at this place down the road, I know the owner and she owes me so if there isn't room available she'll make some."

Slightly dazed he nods along, feet tripping underneath him as the woman brings him along. Eventually his legs get working and she isn't so much dragging him anymore rather than being a support. When they walk through the door Jack doesn't catch the name of this place.

"Rubes! You here?" her voice is loud and nearly gets drowned out in the noise of the inn, with people having late dinners or just talking with others.

Despite this a lady, maybe 20, bustles through. A smile breaking out on her face when she spots the woman, "Clara!"

For a moment when he sees the woman he's taken aback, she looks like Rose. But then he shakes his head and takes in a breath, no- she doesn't. They might have the same hair color, eye color, and.... but no. She looks similar to Clara -that's what she'd called the woman-, their faces near identical. Probably related.

'Rubes' eyes look over at him in surprise, like she didn't realize he was there. She breathes in before speaking, "Hello! Welcome to BW inn, that stands for Bad Wolf by the way. Though you probably saw that on the sign.. Anyway- I'm Ruby Sunday, my family owns this inn."

"Rubes, I need you to get him a room for the night. If you can't, find a way. I'll owe you- ta!" and with that she vanished out the door in a hurry.

Ruby shook her head but brought him over to the counter to grab a key for him.

---

[I hope you liked it! This ended up being more Jack-centric then Clara-centric than I meant for it to. It was just a lot easier to get into Jack's head for some reason.]

[galahadwilder]

The first sign that Doctor John Tyler, known to his friends as “The Doctor,” is about to have a truly terrible day—or maybe truly brilliant day, it’s that kind of sign and he’s that kind of man—is when he picks up the morning newspaper and sees all the words on it have been replaced by the repeated “Bad Wolf.”

The second sign is the achingly familiar sound of a TARDIS engine. Not his TARDIS, no—she’s still parked in the back garage, Rose is still in bed, and Mia spent the night at a friend’s house and also doesn’t have a key. Shouldn’t have a key. She probably stole a key. Mia definitely has a key.

The third sign is when, instead of the familiar police box, an entire 1950s American diner materializes on his front lawn.

The small brunette woman who steps out looks… well, to a human, she’d look human. But the Doctor is not human. Or, well, half. Half-human. Half and a bit. Long disused senses scream at him that this woman is wrong, as wrong as Jack, that she’s a frozen instant of time and she doesn’t appear to be breathing. Or have a heartbeat.

“Doctor?” she says.

He blinks. “…Yes, I’m The Doctor,” he says. “Blimey, where’d you get a TARDIS?”

She steps forward with a cheeky grin, holding out her hand for a shake. “My name’s Clara Oswald, and, for lack of a better option… today, I’m The Doctor.”

He takes her hand in his, confused, and shakes. “For lack of a better option?” He doesn’t like the sound of that. He really doesn’t like the sound of that.

“He regenerated,” she says, and he doesn’t need to ask to know which “he” she’s referring to. “Into the Valeyard.”

The Doctor feels his one, singular, human heart stop.

Terrible day, then.

He’d best wake Rose.

[doverstar]

20% of my writing these days is Waste Away With Me, 20% of it is one-word prompts, 20% is a very long Merlin fic, 20% is another Doctor Who multichapter, and the last 20% is a Disney fic and none of it may ever get posted but there's your update

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Unexpected Interruptions (Clara Oswald x gn reader x Missy/Gomez! Master)

Summary: you and Clara are trying to have some fun when Missy interrupts you

Warnings: not full blown smut but it's definitely suggestive

A/N: this is unofficically dedicated to star anon 💕 I came up with this idea and thought you might enjoy it, even if it is a little short

It had been so long since you and Clara were able to be alone together. Between her teaching job and your back-to-back adventures with the Doctor, getting time together seemed more difficult than taking down an army of Cybermen.

But finally, after what seemed like forever, you were able to convince the Doctor to cool it with the constant traveling for once so the two of you could have a break, which perfectly coincided with the holiday break for Clara's school.

You were practically bursting with excitement when you showed up at her place, thrilled to be getting the chance to be alone with her. Naturally, sex was on the forefront of your mind, and when she opened the door in only a camisole and a pair of pajama shorts you knew she had to be thinking the same thing that you were.

"Hi, love, I missed you so much-" You greeted before she grabbed you by your shirt collar and pulled you inside, shutting the door before shoving you up against it.

"I missed you, too." She sounded a bit breathless, a certain look of desperation in her eyes as she leaned in for a passionate kiss.

Your hands instinctively made their way down to her hips as you clung to each other like a pair of barnacles, stumbling through her apartment on your way to the bedroom. You were passing by the kitchen when you were suddenly interrupted by a voice.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

The smooth and slightly condescending tone of Missy cut through the air, and you instantly broke apart from one another in confusion and shock.

"Missy? What are you doing here? This is my flat!" Clara demanded, a rosy hue flushing her cheeks as she became hyper aware of just how little she was wearing.

"I just thought I'd stop by, see how my two favorite little pets were doing," the Time Lady cooed with utter delight, as though she was amused by the current situation. "Which, by the looks of it, you seem to be having the time of your life."

"We were, until you showed up," you grumbled under your breath, not bothering to hide the frustration in your tone.

That only seemed to spurn Missy on even further, a cheeky grin on her face as she observed the two of you, chests heaving and clothes already slightly crumpled. "If it's some fun that you want, I'm more than happy to provide."

A long silence fell over the room at her suggestion. Neither you nor Clara protested as you glanced at each other, silently thinking the same thing: Should we take her up on her offer?

"Now, now. I wouldn't dream of coming between the two of you," she began while making her way over, wrapping her arms around the both of you as she spoke. "I'm just saying it might be nice to try out new things, to experiment. After all, it's in human nature to be curious, or so I've heard."

"We'll have to talk about this with one another," Clara stated in as firm of a tone as she could muster as she moved away from Missy, pulling you alongside her in an almost possessive manner.

Missy's eyes gleamed with a taunting look of glee at her response and the way she seemed to be protective over you. "Suit yourself. But if you ever decide you want to indulge in something a bit more naughty, you know where to find me."

With that, she left, leaving you and Clara to further contemplate her offer.

End notes: if y'all ever want a part two please let me know and I'll absolutely write it for you <3

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[quietwingsinthesky]

12clara bday fic? 👀

happy birthday!!!

hmmmm... bodyswaps them. for funsies.

----

It's one thing to know the Doctor has taken up temporary residence in her body like Clara has in his, and quite another to feel it when the mouth he uses to kiss her is her own.

"How do you stand this?" he says as they break apart, and Clara's a little distracted by getting to feel up her own ass and the Doctor at the same time—as well as the shocked little exhale that escapes him—to respond until he continues. "I'm getting a crick in your neck just from one kiss."

[3 sentence birthday ficathon]

[the-immortal-redshirt]

Somebody's grumpy. For @rumple04 's creative evenings grumpy Grinch/ugly Christmas sweater prompt. Might color later if I have time.

[smallerontheoutside]

sooo I have a fanfic idea that I'm probably never going to write but who knows, so anyone is welcome to write it but please do tag me because I'd love to see! idea under the cut, contains canon from up to Hell Bent

I'm going to put this as a list in not really a specific order

clara's tardis communicates with the doctor's (we know tardises can communicate cause it's been mentioned before) and the doctor's tells her about the bad wolf, the only human who held the time vortex inside her head and is still alive

clara decides to go back to the powell estate to see her dad one last time, she wants to invite him over and pretend like everything is normal just once more while she still can

her tardis isn't as cheeky about destinations as the doctor's (yet) because she's much younger, but decides she wants to see the human the doctor's ship told her about

so when clara sets the destination as the powell estate, 2014, her tardis goes to the right place but not the right time and takes her to 2005 / 6 instead

clara doesn't realise straight away that it's the wrong time and goes up to her apartment (headcanon is they live in the same apartment, plus it works for this fic) and meets rose who is just coming out of the door having heard the tardis noise

cue confusion as 1. there's someone in clara's apartment and 2. rose heard the tardis, she's sure of it, but the doctor isn't there

anyway I'm really not sure how it would continue but I wanted to write it down before I forgot :))

[redjademilktea]

Hello hello!! I don't usually write things for Doctor Who, but I've been having the world's worst writers block and for some reason the only thing my brain wanted to actually put out into the world was this silly idea I had about an alternative Fourteenth Doctor. For some reason, this silly little part-of-a-story (or, first chapter in a longer fic?) is the only thing that would unclog my brain and allow me to actually write. It worked, and I am able to continue diss writing again, but I figured I'd share what I wrote here just so this thing has a purpose other than unblocking my writers block haha.

For context: this is an alternate idea for the Fourteenth Doctor. What if, instead of reaching for the face of a previous incarnation, the Doctor at the moment of her regeneration in Power of the Doctor instead reached for a past companion? One whose loss the Doctor had not yet fully processed? Whose presence meant so much to them? What if, when the Doctor regenerated, she found herself with Clara's face, instead of Ten's?

This story is my excuse to imagine Jenna Coleman as the Doctor, because she was incredible in Flatline (and all throughout her time on the show)!! And I wanted to see more of that. So, Clara!Doctor it is!!

This story takes place right after The Power of the Doctor and Thirteen's regeneration on those rocks by the ocean. The story itself largely occurs in Monterey, California, USA in October, 1994. It's not complete, but I actually will probably finish this up, since it was so fun to write. What I have of the story below!!

----

"Blossomiest blossom." The Doctor took in a deep, labored breath. She felt it surging now, the burst of temporal, regenerative energy jolting through her core. "That's the only sad thing, I want to know what happens next."

How many more sunrises would she get to see? How many more planets would she set foot on, the endless stars dotting their skies, stretching out towards infinity. So much possibility, all of it rapidly fading as the orange pink of sunrise crested into the more tangible reality of day.

How many more traps were there to purposefully walk into? And to barely escape from by the skin of her teeth and a face full of mattress (she still hand't thanked the TARDIS properly for that, for another lifetime, she supposed)? How many more beaches, endless waves and cool ocean rocks skipping along the rolling waters? How many more stones cast, hoping, wishing, begging that it could go on forever?

How many more places and timezones would she flee to, skip by, before the stones, the wishes ran out? How many more faces, how many more life times, until it all catches up to her? The angry, vengeful tide of time lost crashing over her like a ravenous tsunami? How many more scoops of ice cream would she muster up, before-

Well, no time for that now. That's up to the next one.

"Right then, Doctor-whoever-I'm-about-to-be," she smiled, the gentle warmth of the steady sunrise blending with the growing fire of change within her. "Tag, you're it."

----

She blinked. "She" was still the right way to describe who was doing the blinking, right? It felt correct. About the only thing that felt certain right now. That and the crashing waves. Why were there waves?

She looked down, tattered grey coat flapping in the cool breeze, enough to put out the remaining embers. She wobbled slightly as she attempted to ground herself.

Speaking of the ground, it was definitely closer now. About three inches closer. No. That wasn't right. She wasn't hunching like normal. Is that normal now? How was her posture? She should check now that she's- Wait, no, focus! Focus! What was she doing? That's right the ground. It was four inches closer, not three. Silly, silly...

An ominous clang from about twenty feet behind her. That was odd. That sounded incredibly familiar. Not a good familiar. The thought excited her. Oh, excited? Do ominous noises excite her now? She supposed they always did, to a degree, but something about the possibility here, the unknown, made the hair on her neck stand. Oh, she had a neck! More good news. What other body parts were-

Another clang, louder, more demanding. As if the sound was deliberately calling to her. She turned around, her hazy vision clarifying on the visage of a blue box. Box. Ship. Home. ...TARDIS!

Oh. The TARDIS, with scorch marks crisscrossing the front paneling. That must have been- She really needed to be more careful of where she chose to do this sort of thing.

She rushed towards the door, fumbling for where she left... The door openy thing. The metal jangly thing that let her inside places. Sonic! Wait no, that's not right. K-key! Yes her key. Where was-

The door clicked open as if pulling her inside. That certainly saved her rather valuable brains capacity to better orient herself. She ran towards it, the breeze blowing her hair back on the way in. Hair! Was it- No. Not ginger. She would know if it was ginger. That's not something one could miss. This hair felt... Well she didn't know what it felt like. It felt a little longer than last time, about shoulder length. It felt... well whatever it felt like, it didn't feel ginger. Maybe next go around.

Another clang rang out as she made her way towards the console. The dazzling array of vibrant and emphatically glowing buttons caused her already racing hearts-beat to skyrocket in anticipation. So many buttons. So many options. She should spend some time to figure out- Unless... she hand't pressed that one before. Who knows what that one did. She better check. It could very well solve whatever had the TARDIS acting up. At the very least she'll know that it wouldn't fix it. And knowledge gleaned was knowledge gleaned.

She reached for the blaring button, eyes glimmering with anticipation. The smirk was already firmly on her face before it registered in her mind. What next? She hit the button.

With a loud whirr and an even louder crash, she found herself on the floor, no mattress in sight to break her fall. Another crash sent her careening towards one of the glowing pillars surrounding the console. She may have to re-check her posture after that one. Reassess.

Another explosion and a screeching whirr and another toss and-

----

October 25th, 1994 - 3:32 PM

Monterey, CA, USA

Cass sighed. She hated working on Tuesdays. Granted, she hated working here on any given day, but Tuesdays were a particularly awful experience.

She looked around the diner, idly noting the older woman in the corner sitting with a coffee and her newspaper and the family of tourists seated towards the counter. For a brief moment, she considered checking in on either table before deciding against it. There were only so many times she could ask if they needed refills before it started affecting her tip.

Another exacerbated sigh. All the empty tables had been wiped down. The floor was spotless. All dishes and cups were cleaned and put away. All the décor dusted (a notable feat to be sure, the eccentric collection of 1950s themed paraphernalia seemed to always have some pore or crevice or corner that needed cleaning, the task was almost sisyphean in Cass's opinion).

She walked over to the photo of John Steinbeck hung over the jukebox in the corner, the tinny chiming of Buddy Holly and the Crickets growing louder as she approached. She leaned over to realign the portrait. Whether or not the portrait was askew before was unimportant, the goal of sating her boredom was accomplished. As she pulled back to admire her unnecessary handiwork, the door chimed.

"Grab a table wherever, I'll be with you in-" the familiar sight of Mae's denim jacket caught the corner of Cass's eye as she glanced over the photo. Perfectly straight. Like it had been before. She turned to face her friend more fully.

"Slow day huh," Mae said, nodding her head in the direction of the portrait.

"You could say that," Cass responded, smirking as she headed towards the counter. "You want the usual?"

"I could probably use it, got a long night of fish house keeping ahead of me I guess."

"At least it's not the otters."

"If it was the otters I'd at least have a cute reason for smelling like death."

"Fair," Cass laughed as she finished pouring the coffee into the mug. She slid it over to Mae, who had taken up her usual stool at the end of the counter. "Anything new going on?"

"Other than grad research and fish kicking my ass? Not much really," Mae answered, taking a small sip and blowing on the surface of the coffee in an effort to cool it.

"Gonna at least head out this weekend for the beach before the weather gets too bad?" Cass leaned onto the counter, giving Mae her full attention.

"I can't. Oh! I didn't tell you. I got new ink!" Mae shrugged off her loose jacket to reveal the sight of a wrapped tattoo on her upper arm. "So freaking cool, right?"

Cass looked over the tattoo, the wisping clouds of inky smoke surrounding the number 27. The font was striking, and the line work and artistry lent itself to the gothic imagery that Mae so readily embraced.

"Woah, this looks incredible," Cass moved closer. For a half second, she swore the smoke looked like it was drifting up. She blinked. The static image remained before her. Brushing the tinge of confusion aside, Cass looked back up at Mae. "Where'd you get it done?"

"This new place that opened up a few blocks down. Jaime told me about it."

At that, Cass raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were 'never talking to that asshole again'?"

"Look, he helped me after his shift was over and I was drowning in work. Can you blame me? Plus, I'm not not gonna notice a sick tattoo like this, regardless of what asshole it's attached to."

Cass sighed as she met Mae's eyes, the green of them assuaging her mild annoyance. "Mhmm. Just... be careful this time? Okay?"

"Hey, I learned my lesson. You don't have to worry," a smile lined with the warmth of affection grew on Mae's face. "Plus, I know you'll kick his ass if he does something stupid."

At that, Cass laughed more fully. "Sure. But you can't expect me to be there every time a guy needs his ass kicked. I have a life too."

"What? Admiring old Johnny back there keeping you occupied?"

"Hey, careful. He's got grapes of wrath headed your way if you keep talking shit."

"Oh? That's the kind of guy you're into huh?"

A slight sting. It really shouldn't still bother her. She knew what she was signing herself up for when she moved back. The familiar trappings of a well-worn closet. She was used to it. She could handle the gentle suffocation. She was used to it.

"Something like that." Cass pulled back, standing up a little straighter. "I'm always here if you need anything."

"I know," Mae responded, placing a gentle hand over Cass's. Cass found her cheeks flushing slightly. She pulled her hands away.

A loud crash and the frantic cling of the door chime caused both women to jolt upright. They were greeted by the sight of a woman, short, dark brown hair, flowing grey trench coat, all but falling over as she burst through the door.

"Sorry! Sorry." She made eye contact with Cass. Something about the intensity of her gaze threw Cass off balance. "I'm looking for..." the woman sighed, massaging her temples. "What was it?" she squeezed her eyes shut, as if struggling to keep focus. "Paper clips! Yes, do you happen to have 3 paper clips? About this big? Or a stapler. But no more than half full."

Cass blinked, the shock giving way to utter bewilderment. She looked to Mae, who wore a similarly confounded expression.

"Half full... of staples?" Cass managed to find her voice.

"That's it," the woman responded. Was that... British? "Actually, I take that back. The paper clips are probably more versatile. Unless you happen to have those smaller ones that you can carry around and open up. Not the bulky ones. Those will-"

The woman stopped suddenly, as she took in her surroundings. "Hang on," she looked around. Cass followed her line of sight as she scanned the diner. "Have I been here before?"

While Cass honestly had very little idea what was happening in the scene unfolding before her, she certainly knew the answer to that question.

"Definitely not," Cass said.

"Are you sure?" the woman responded, continuing her survey of the space around her. Her brow furrowed.

"I think I'd remember if a British lady with a scorched jacket stumbled into here before, yeah." Cass said, a bemused grin now firmly in place.

"British la- Oh that's right! Does it still suit me?"

"What?"

"Never mind. I'm sure it does. Your accent... American. With a bit of vocal fry. Californian? Not Southern Californian. Am I in California?"

"Wow," Mae blurted out, breaking her stunned silence. She turned back to Cass, matching her incredulous smile. "And... where did you think you were?"

"Last I remember, by the ocean," the woman whipped around, looking out the diner window. "And it looks like I still am. Different ocean though. Judging by the wave patterns at least."

"And that ocean was... here? On planet Earth?" Mae asked. Cass swatted at her non-tattooed arm. "What?"

"Don't make fun of her."

"I'm just curious!"

"The Atlantic if I'm remembering right," the woman continued on, seemingly unfazed. "Last few hours are a bit fuzzy," the woman responded, still firmly peering out the window at the beach.

"I bet they are," Mae said under her breath. "Ow, hey!"

Cass pulled back her hand from the follow-up swat. Then, to the woman, "Are... Are you alright? Can I get you anything? Call... some... one...?" Her voice trailed off, uncertain of what she was even supposed to do in a situation like this.

"What like a doctor?" Mae laughed.

At that, the woman turned around. "Why? Do you know one?" She quickly made her way back to the counter.

"No. At least not personally?" Mae responded, taken aback by the woman's sudden proximity.

"Oh. Shame. I feel like a doctor would be helpful right now, but I can't put a finger on why. Wait." The woman turned back abruptly, heading straight towards the portrait of John Steinbeck in the corner. "Oh, old Johnny. I haven't seen him since the whole thing with those angry grapes."

Mae and Cass exchanged looks. The woman stepped back slightly.

"If he's here then... Monterey? Cannery Row. And..." the woman walked over and yanked the newspaper out of the hands of the elderly person who was taking in the scene in stunned silence. "Ah! 1994." She placed the paper back into the older woman's hands. "I figured, with a coat like that," the woman nodded her head towards Mae.

"Wh-wait what is that supposed to mean?" Mae stuttered as Cass burst out with laughter. "Have you even looked at what you're weari-"

Suddenly, a loud whirlwind of noise emanated from outside. A cacophony of caws echoed through the air, almost filling Cass's lungs and knocking her over with their sheer volume. A scream from a man rang out as a blur of black feathers swarmed past the window.

"What was that?" Cass said, moving towards the window. The woman followed.

"Ravens," was her only response before she all but ran out the door. Cass looked at Mae and then out to the rest of the diner. Before she could even begin to second guess herself, she took off after the woman.

----

"Hey!" Cass shouted as she gasped for breath. This woman was incredibly quick. She seemed to change directions as fast as she changed trains of thought. "Wait! What are you-"

The woman turned her head as Cass caught up to her, but she didn't slow down. "Aren't you still on the job?" is all she responded with as she bolted towards the source of the sound.

A large flock of ravens circled the late afternoon sky. Further down the road by the pier, a man stood, seemingly at the center of the confluence of feathers and caws. The man screamed again. As Cass and the woman closed in, she could make out the terrified look that locked itself onto the man's face. He stood in the plaza at the front of the pier, in front of a monument depicting several bronze figures in various poses around and on top of a jutting pile of rocks. The ravens circled, cries increasing in volume. The cacophony was almost disorienting.

The woman stopped on the corner of the street, directly across from where the man whose growing panic manifested in more regular screams. The ravens seemed to respond, almost a delighted symphony of calls, as if toying with the man. Cass came to a crashing halt at the woman's abrupt cessation of movement. The looming red of the building next to them seemed to amplify the sheer confusion and anxiety now rippling through Cass.

"What's-" Cass panted, "What's happening?!"

"Quantum shades." The woman responded, plainly.

"Qua- what?"

"Quantum shades. I've seen this before. Where have I seen this before?" The woman began rubbing her temples, her eyes squeezing shut as if struggling desperately to recall something.

"This is a common thing?" Cass asked. She wasn't sure what answer she was expecting. Or what answer would quell her frayed nerves.

"Not common. At least not in this corner of the universe anyway. Not right now at least. Give it twenty years. Hang on!" the woman seemed to light up at an apparent connection that flew right over Cass's head. Along with about twenty thousand other things, she supposed. "That sounds familiar! You don't plan on stranding yourself in London a few decades from now do you?" the woman gave an inquisitive look at Cass. Cass could only respond by opening and closing her mouth several times.

Suddenly, the beats of wings and the rain of dark feathers grew more frantic. The man continued to let out horrified yelps as he climbed the center art fixture, crouching among the statues in a vain attempt to find cover. In response to this, the woman reached into her flowing coat and produced a peculiar looking device.

It was gleaming silver, intricate patterns carved along it. The shape and bend of the object was akin to a bulky looking spoon, however the "handle" end of the object was capped off with a strange looking stone.

The woman held up the device, pointing it at the frenzied flock. With a whir, the stone at the top of the device glowed a bright orange as it rotated. Cass's eyes widened at the sight. The woman held the device sideways, as if reading something. Her face shifted from determined curiosity into worry.

"That's what I was afraid of," she said, eyes shifting back to the man.

"What's happening? Is he alright?" Cass asked. Her worry for the man's safety doubling.

The woman seemed to consider her question for a moment. She turned to face Cass more fully. Her deep brown eyes betrayed a calculating stare, as if she was assessing every aspect of Cass's being. Cass shuddered.

She seemed to find what she was looking for, as she stepped back slightly and straightened her posture. "Quantum shades," she repeated. "Beings of pure probability. Their motives are..." the woman paused, looking back at the terrified man who was now attempting to swat away the circling birds. "Their motives are hard to pin down. Almost like they change the moment you look away." A rueful smirk appeared on her face. "But some outcomes are more likely." She began walking slowly towards the man, a stunned Cass right behind her.

"These birds? Are quantum... They- they're not crows?" Cass asked, a half a step behind the woman.

"Ravens." the woman corrected. "And no. They take on a form when observed. Otherwise, they exist purely as a wave function across space and time."

"Across space and..." Cass muttered under her breath. "Okay... then what do they want with that man?"

"They're hunting." At Cass's bewildered expression, the woman expanded. "They feed off of the unrealized potential of a being's wave function. Every being, every object, every particle has a wave function. It represents all the possible paths one can take. For example, I could turn right and walk down the street at this moment. Just totter off. And never look back."

"And you're not going to?"

At that, the woman smiled. She looked down at the name tag on Cass's lapel. "Cass, eh? Good name. I'm... I'm..." the woman stopped in her tracks, brows furrowed. "Ugh I knew I was forgetting something! Never mind," she turned back to Cass. "Like I was saying. I could bugger off in that direction. Stop by for a cuppa at a café. Maybe take a stroll through the aquarium near sunset."

Cass raised an eyebrow. "And...?"

"And, I could keep walking straight. Right towards that man. These choices. All of it is possible. And they radiate out across time and space as a wave function. Some things are more likely than others of course, but anything is possible."

"I don't understand," Cass said, looking towards the scene before her. "What does this... why do they want him?"

Another scream as the ravens began pointedly swooping in, swiping at the man'n shoulder.

"What are they doing?" Cass asked, stepping forward as if compelled. She didn't understand why. But she wanted to do... something. "What- Can we help him?"

The woman turned back, smile returning more fully now. "Now you're asking the right questions." She reached out, and before Cass could process it, the woman had her by the hand and was pulling her towards the central plaza.

"Quantum shades hunt by collapsing the wave function of a being into a single." The woman explained, pulling Cass along. "Every possibility, every moment of their possible futures, every place they can run..." The man swatted furiously as he continued to scream, clinging to the peak of the rock pile. "All transfixed into one point on the fabric of space and time. And that point becomes their death."

"They're going to- How do we help him?" Cass's fear had melted away slightly, to her surprise. In its place, something strange. Determination?

"That all depends on what kind of shades we're dealing right now. Right now. I should clarify." The woman held up her silvery device again. "If I scan them, it should collapse their wave function to this moment and we can get a read on what their goal is." A whir, then a few more buzzing sounds as the woman squinted at the device. "Like I said, some things are more likely than others. It looks like these shades are looking for..." A grim look flashed across her face. "Unrealized potential."

"His unrealized potential."

"Yes." The woman responded, flatly. "Alright Cass," she grabbed onto Cass's hand again. "Let's put those waitressing skills to the test, yeah?"

----