Author’s note: Set during the telepathic conference in “The Name of the Doctor.”
Written for: fandom_stocking 2013 for credoimprobus.
So. This was the infamous Clara. Or the latest version, anyway. One that, it appeared, the Doctor had finally noticed. River studied her discreetly across the non-existent table, looking for any of the usual signs. Some were there–the girl as usual showed no sign of recognition–but others, more subtle ones, were absent. Curious.
It hadn’t taken River long to observe that the Doctor had a peculiar habit of being saved by identical petite brunette women throughout his long history, and even more peculiarly, never seemed to take note of this fact himself. Sometimes the girl died saving him, sometimes she survived and went on to live a full life that had nothing to do with the Doctor, but it was always the same girl, always with some variation on the same name.
Of course, River knew she wasn’t meant to be peering in on the Doctor’s earlier selves at all, but she’d never been very fond of rules so that hadn’t stopped her. And the mysteriously recurring Clara Oswald–or Clara Oswalds, rather–had piqued her curiosity. She’d taken to visiting the surviving ones, even seduced a few in pursuit of her goals (all right, purely for the fun of it in most cases), but had never found the answer to the question of how this young woman kept popping up in the Doctor’s life. Most of them simply felt they were in the right place at the right time and that was the end of it.
Perhaps this time might be different. She would have to visit this particular Clara once the latest business was done. Well…visit her in her dreams, perhaps. There were certain disadvantages to living out one’s final days in a computer.
(Of course, no sooner had she thought that than everything went merrily to hell. She got her answers before it was done, but without the fringe benefit of the seduction. Pity.)