Chapter 1: Bouncing Into Her Life

March was definitely her favourite month of the year. Since she was a kid, she had always loved to observe the landscape mould from the dull cold and snow to the rich greens and warmth of the spring. She especially loved to see the leaves come out in all their various forms and colours. It all somehow reminded her of her mother; it made her smile.

These were the ambling thoughts of Clara Oswald as she stood in the living room of the Maitland household, clutching a bottle of furnishing polish in one hand and a worn-out cloth in the other, but her eyes were fixated on the emerging green nature outside the window, almost like in a trance.

She usually took small glances out of the window now and again, but not normally to view the outdoor foliage, but to see whether or not a particular blue box had emerged on the pathway outside, the first sign of impending adventure. Said 'adventure' was becoming an increasing occurrence; days had only passed in the Maitland household, but weeks had passed relative to Clara. It was all rather bemusing.

"Oh my god, no way…" came a voice that shook Clara out of her reverie. It came from the kitchen nearby. "Wait to Lauren hears about this…"

"Angie! I do hope that you're helping your brother with his maths homework, and not texting again!" called Clara, irately.

"Yes, I'm helping him, jeez Clara…"

Clara swiftly stormed into the kitchen where Angie and Artie sat at the central table; Clara saw a flash of pink suddenly dive beneath it.

"Uh – what's that! That's a phone. Gimme it…"

"You're not my mum, you can't tell me what to do-"

"Give it here Angie!"

"Fine, take it, if you want it so much…"

"That's better. Now do something useful and help your brother…"

"I was helping him, for your information…"

"Texting does not constitute as help Angie…"

"I was only taking a break. We've got most of it done, haven't we Artie?"

"We've only done question one- "

"Shut up, you're meant to lie you bender!"

"Angie! Less of that language! Just help him through the next few questions, then I'll take over. Deal?"

"Fine. Can I have my phone back afterwards?"

"No more lip, and just possibly…"

"Fine. Ok, Artie, let's look at question two. There are forty wizards in a room. Half of them each carry one wand, two cauldrons, three cats and four brooms, whilst the other half each carry three spellbooks and five potions. How many items do all forty wizards carry in total?"

"Wizards?" snickered Clara. "What are they teaching you kids these days?"

"It's a part of the new curriculum…" said Artie, "Mrs Hollyworthy told us…"

"A curriculum focusing on wizards? Whose harebrained idea was that? said Clara.

"I know right. I should be head of education instead; I'd ban homework and increase playtime to six hours a day…" said Angie.

"Well, to be head of education, you need to study, and study hard, so get to work you two…"

"I've already done mine, Artie just sucks at maths-"

"Hey, I don't-"

"Yes, you do, you thought six plus ten was eleven!"

"Eleven is like the only good number-"

"Not everything is equal to eleven Artie you muppet-"

"Belt up, the pair of you! Angie, help your brother count his wands and whatever else or you won't get this phone back until tomorrow morning before school, do you hear me?"

"Fine…" groused Angie.

"Right…so…twenty times by…eleven?" mused Artie.

"Where did you get eleven from? There's no eleven anywhere!"

"Angie will you please-" began Clara, but was interrupted by a sudden influx of sound beginning to resonate from somewhere outside, the overfamiliar dull metallic thrumming that progressively screeched into the room, the noise that signified only one thing.

Adventure. The only snag was that 'adventure' had come whilst the kids were home. That was a first.

"What was that noise?" asked Angie. "I've heard that before..."

"It's just a plane…" said Clara quickly.

"What plane makes that noise?" asked Artie.

"A Boeing stop-asking-questions-I'll-be-back-in-a-minute…" said Clara, running feverishly to pull on her coat from the cloakroom.

"Going somewhere?" asked Angie suspiciously.

"Didn't I ever tell you I was a fervent plane spotter?" improvised Clara.

"Since when?"

"Since forever, where you have been? Gotta love a good plane…"

The doorbell rang.

"Oh my god, have you got a date? Has Clara actually got a date?" asked Angie, grinning.

"Don't be ridiculous, I can't date a plane…"

She slammed the kitchen door and raced towards the front door without a second thought.

"Doctor!" she yelled, breathlessly yanking open the door.

"Uh…delivery, for Mr Maitland?" said the figure in the doorway, carrying a large parcel and looking thoroughly confused.

"Oh…um…thank you…I'll sign…" she said, confused, gazing around the street; the spot where the TARDIS normally arrived at was oddly empty, "You haven't seen a blue box, by any chance? Or a man dressed in purple, floppy hair, bandy legs, chin like Mount Everest?"

"No…" he said, perplexed, as Clara took the man's clipboard and signed.

"Oh…ok. Um…have a good day then!" she said, and closed the door in his bemused face.

Well that was odd, and embarrassing…where was he? She definitely heard the TARDIS, that sound was unmistakable. Maybe he would turn up eventually, he usually did…

"It was just a package, it's probably the new router. I'm gonna leave it in here, but please don't open your dad's mail, he was livid last time-"

Clara trailed off at the sight that greeted her as she entered the kitchen. Between Angie and Artie stood a man dressed in purple, with floppy hair, bandy legs, and a chin like bloody Mount Everest.

"Hmm, yes, three hundred and sixty objects in total. Odd context, mind you…" he muttered.

"You'd think they wouldn't be able to hold that much stuff…"

"Well, they're wizards, they can just use magic I guess. Oh, Clara!" he said, face lightening up.

"Doctor! How did you get in here?" she asked.

"Back door. We let him in. We thought he was your boyfriend…" said Angie, smiling deviously. "Is he? Don't lie, you're dating aren't you?"

"Both of you, up to your rooms this instant!"

"Clara's got a boyfriend, Clara's got a boyfriend!" chimed Angie.

"Rooms! Now!"

"But my maths homework!" piped Artie.

"Oh – um…later, ok-"

"All done, don't worry. Question seventeen was a bit iffy, I think I may have overcomplicated it a bit. Hmm, yes, I don't think that maths has been invented yet. Um…just copy the answers, there's a chap…" said the Doctor.

"Wow, thanks!" said Artie gratefully.

"Don't think this is the end of this!" called Angie, smirking, as the pair left the kitchen and bounded up the stairs.

Clara waited until the footsteps had subsided, closed the kitchen door, and then turned on the Doctor.

"Back door? Really? You can't just be a normal person and use the front door, like you've done every time before?"

"Hey, it's not my fault! The TARDIS has been a bit wibbly ever since Caliburn House. That pocket dimension really messed up her accuracy components…"

"So where exactly did you land?"

"Oh, you know, somewhere, rather fortunately, out of place, totally inconspicuous…"

"Doctor…where did you land?"

He pursed his lips together. "Ok, the roof, but it's not that much of a deviation against past events. I once tried to get to 1860 Naples but ended up in 1869 Cardiff, you know, met Charles Dickens, fought some zombies, the regular…"

"The roof? Zombies?"

"Long story, but yes, the roof, just above the extension by the look of things…"

"How did you get down?"

"Well I used my agility, dexterity and athletic skills to climb down in a safe and somewhat elegant manner…"

Clara then noticed something outside that made her smirk.

"You used the kids' trampoline, didn't you?"

"How did you know?"

"There's kind of a TARDIS in it. Just guessing it came the same way you did."

The Doctor turned around to see the peculiar site of the TARDIS lying on its side on the trampoline, which was bouncing slightly under the stress.

"Oh dear, nine hundred years of travel in time and space, and she's never looked so undignified, well, except when she was painted pink…" mused the Doctor. "Come on, help me get her the right way up…"

"You'd think all that bigger-on-the-inside stuff would break the trampoline…or the planet for that matter…" she commented.

"Matter dispersion field. All the internal weight is shifted into a black hole at the very heart of the TARDIS. Still, the weight of the outside isn't affected, and that wood is sometimes quite a hefty load…"

The pair ventured outside into the garden, and onto the trampoline.

"Hello dear, had a few too many?" he said endearingly to the fallen TARDIS.

The doors opened out sharply as if to hit him.

"Oh my goodness, did she just try and doorslap you?"

"Pay attention, she's a sentient life form you know, and a bit of a women at heart…"

The doors opened out sharply again.

"Woah, calm down sexy!"

"I'm just going to do my best to ignore the fact that you just called the TARDIS sexy…"

"She likes the name! Now, grab that side, I'll grab this side…" he said.

The pair pulled the TARDIS into a relatively upright position, and pushed her against the side of the trampoline.

"Right then, adventure awaits…" he said, smirking his smirkish smirk and opening the blue doors.

"Doesn't it always?" she asked, smiling back, and then following him in.

The TARDIS console room felt like a second home now. The blue metallic environment felt friendly, even if the TARDIS consciousness, whatever it truly was, still gave her the cold shoulder.

"You got anything special planned?" she asked, taking her coat off and hanging it on the railings.

"I never have a plan. Plans are for normal people. Do I look normal to you?"

"Not with that chin of yours…" she quipped.

"Ooh, a tawdry quirk. From you alone I can now officially open a shop for tawdry quirks…"

"There's more where that came from, you can be sure of that…"

"I look forward to taking them on the chin, as they say…"

"If you take them all like that I'll run out in seconds…"

"Ooh, you're on fire today…"

"Thank you very much. But do you really not have a plan? I mean, everyone's got a plan…"

"Well, I'm not 'everyone'. Call me 'Doctor not-everyone'. No, on second thought, 'the Doctor' is much better…"

Clara chuckled.

"What's the deal with 'Doctor' anyway? You can't have just been called that from birth, right? Well, then, doctor who? There must be more…" she asked, arms folded, head cocked.

"There's nothing more, don't worry. Literally, in this sense, there is much more to that question than there is to that answer…"

"What, doctor who?"

"Yes…um, quite. It's kind of a long story, and I've haven't got the time…"

"But, we're in a time machine…"

"Yeah, well…" stammered the Doctor. "Ah, but do you know what this button does…" he said, gesturing at a particular ordinary looking button on the console.

"No, what?"

"It's the timey-wimey freezey-weezey button. Push this – ", and he did so, " - and temporal coordinates are locked, and we will stay in March 2013 until I depress it. Not a time machine in this instance…"

"Is this your attempt at avoiding the conversation, because it's really poor…"

"Nonsense. I'm simply throwing out my own tawdry quirk, is all…"

"Right…so, I guess we're travelling through space in this instance?"

"Very astute. And why not? Ooh, and I've just thought of the greatest idea ever since I made a sandwich with bacon instead of bread. You can consider it my plan for this trip, if you want…"

The Doctor reached out and pulled a long black lever on the console; the rotor suddenly grinded into thunderous motion, and the entire machine shook like it had awoken from sleep. He daintily slalomed around the hexagonal central panel, performing his seemingly random combination of switch-pulling and button-pressing, as the TARDIS shook and roared into life.

"I've put us into random mode – we could end up literally anywhere in all space!" he shouted happily over the sound of the loud metallic thrumming. The TARDIS vibrated sharply; Clara had to lunge for the nearby railings to avoid falling over on the smooth metal floor.

"Isn't that potentially dangerous?" she yelled.

"Of course it is, how do you expect to have fun in this universe?"

"This is not much of a plan, you know!"

"This is as much of a plan as you can expect from me!"

With a final flicking of switches, the TARDIS became abruptly still and quiet.

"So then, where are we?" she asked, regaining her posture.

"Ooh, what a place to land…" he said excitedly, straightening his bowtie as he looked at the monitor screen. "Mercatus Minor. Eighteenth moon of the seventeenth planet of the Volmittian system, Romma. Three billion light years from Earth, and its twenty degrees with a chance of strong winds later…"

"What's so special about it then?"

"It's a market world. Literally, the entire moon is one big open market. The economy is based solely on a system of barter, no monetary mechanisms, just the exchange of objects with the same perceived intrinsic value..."

"Intriguing…but do we have any items of…intrinsic value? You know, to exchange?"

"Well, take it slow now, we're not here for a shopping spree. We're here to sample the culture…"

"All right then. So what are we waiting for?"

"For you to stop asking questions…"

"I'm done with the questions! You know, except the whole 'doctor who?' one. I'm want to know more about that later…"

"I'm sure a lot of people feel the same way about that one. Come along then Pon-uh, I mean Oswald…"