A/N: Wow… Well, this is it. Far, far later than my original intent, this story is done.

I just want to say thank you, SO much, to everyone who has given me encouragement and support. I really hadn't imagined this would get the attention it has, and I am so, so grateful to you all. This story was the idea that got me writing fanfiction last summer. It wasn't the first thing I wrote, but it was the first story that made me want to write. I hope, dear readers, that you've enjoyed it.

Here is to all of us riding off into the sunset together!

FBS

Health and Safety: Chapter 26 – Out of the Hex

After our first… experience… in Betman's Saloon, I never really planned to find myself back here again. It hadn't been a conscious choice: some solemn promise to never cross the threshold or anything like that. More just a bit of common sense that came to mind once I found myself following the Doctor through the doors again.

The place couldn't feel more different than when we were here last.

It's far more crowded than it was on the first night of our stay, but there isn't a bit of tension to be found. Off on the little landing between floors, several people have set themselves up with shabby looking instruments alongside the piano, providing lively, if slightly off-key, music. The people dancing don't seem to be bothered by the pitch at all.

The Doctor beams at the happy crowd of people as he guides me to a vacant table on the far side of the room. Jenny and Vastra hold up for a moment in to give us space to step by, but we have to duck out of the way of several other pairs.

"Less than a day since they got attacked, but you couldn't tell, could you?" The Doctor asks cheerily, pulling a chair out for me to sit in. I look at it, and then at him before chewing on my bottom lip for a second and shaking my head. He's been treating me pretty delicately since we left the Etulian ship. Colonel Aloosme – who is here along with several members of UNIT – sent us an escort back to Hikaru's hotel.

The sense of relief that hit me once the Doctor shut that door behind us, leaving the world outside of the small room, was intense. Everything was over, all the problems solved, and our pressing questions answered. Part of me wanted to sleep for days. But another part of me…

"Did I pick a bad chair? Do you want to sit closer to the band? Is there-"

I chuckle as I grab his hand and place it on my waist, which sends his fair eyebrows shooting up to meet his fringe. Setting my hand on his shoulder, I give him a gentle push back towards the dancers. His mouth opens wide before smoothing into a confident grin. His feet find some kind of rhythm with the tune, and soon we are dancing with the crowd of people.

As the Doctor and I make our way around the room, there are two faces I find that aren't in the same cheery mood as everyone else seems to be. And sadly, they belong to two of the people I would like to see happy after all of this.

Unlike the rest of the Enforcement Officers and UNIT, Émeric isn't in uniform. Odder still, he is keeping to himself in a far corner while nursing a glass of wine. The other saddened face belongs to Ria, who has just finished talking with Hikaru by the bar.

When my hand returns to the Doctor's shoulder after a quick spin, I tap him lightlyand nod my head in Ria's direction.

"Something's not right." I tell him quietly.

"Hikaru sold the hotel, remember? She is leaving town for a promotion in Ottawa. It was her that Ria works for, and that hotel is where Ria was staying."

Before I can say anything, he twirls us to a halt and winks at me. "Colonel! Colonel!" He calls, bobbing slightly on his feet, probably hoping to catch her attention.

It takes her some doing to ebb her way through the crowd, but her stern stare encourages several people to move out of the way. "What is it, Doctor?"

"Planning to stay here long?" He begins, far too casually. He's up to something…

"Only as long as it takes to clean up, I've been informed I'll be given a new assignment once I return to headquarters in New York."

"Glad you mentioned that, actually. It's just what I wanted to talk to you about because you're going to need an extra set of hands for that job." He motions for us to follow him across the room.

"I am?"

"Yes. Trust me. And I'm going to save you the trouble of having to advertise, got just the person right… here!" He declares, as he reaches out to tap Ria's shoulder.

"Doctor? What's up?" She asks, eyeing Aloosme.

"The Colonel is going to need an office assistant to help her while she supervises a general review of UNIT's recent practices, as per their mandate, regulations, and charter. Lots of paperwork, lots of fancy legal jargon, important outcome in terms of the organization ethics." He explains quickly, waving his hands between them.

"Is that what I'll be doing?" Colonel Aloosme asks with a slight grin.

The Doctor nods and opens his mouth to continue, but Aloosme cuts him off.

"Well, a reference from the Doctor? We can talk properly tomorrow, after the party is over. From the sounds of it, you all deserve a little frivolity and rest tonight." She chuckles lightly at Ria, breaking her formal demeanor. "Now, Doctor, is there anything else about my job coming up that I should know about? Or anyone else I should hire while I'm here?"

I'm fairly sure she meant the last bit as a joke, but the Doctor doesn't seem to agree. He points at her before craning his neck to scan the crowd. "Since you mentioned it, there is a recently unemployed paramedic in the house that would also be an excellent addition to your staff... He and Victoria work well together, quite a team. Banting and Best, Sherlock and Watson, Butch and Sundance, Victoria and Albert – err, not that his name is Albert, I meant the Queen Victoria, with an era named after her... And Prince Albert…"

Across the room, Daniel and Walt begin some kind of squabble, which can be heard even over the music. A few heads turn expectedly to Ria as their usual peacemaker.

"I don't want to deal with them tonight." She says quietly to us, seeming surprised by her own admission. "I'm going to go convince Albert," she smirks at the Doctor, "to stop sulking, and maybe put his fancy French feet to good use."

"Doctor, where are we-"

"Shhhhhh." He cuts me off, finger flying to my lips while making motions to be quiet.

Not being able to get anything out of him is frustrating. Since we took the very intrepid, but also very weary Victorian detectives back home, I haven't been able to get much out of him. 'I want to check on something,' was all he said when I asked where we were off to in such a hurry.

The cobbled streets and stone houses around us are deserted and quiet, soft light just peeking over the tarnished copper roof tops. I would say we were still in the past, but there are bins neatly lined up outside some of the houses, and street lamps that look like they have solar panels on them. The Doctor takes my hand and leads us down the empty laneway, weaving through the maple trees lining the edge, all boasting a stunning array of fall colours.

We continue along towards a beautiful iron wrought fence. There is a row of bushy hedges growing alongside it that prevent me from seeing whatever is behind them. Following the fence, we come to a gap in the shrubs by a small gate. It's locked and chained, but lower than the rest of the railing. The Doctor offers me a grin before motioning to look over the gate. I have to creep up on my tip toes to get a look, but the Doctor sets his hands just above my waist to help steady me.

Ria is nestled contently against the trunk of a large tree, shaded by its scarlet canopy. Her attention is squarely focused on a rather heavy looking book couched across her lap, and she doesn't notice when the Doctor points the sonic at the rusted lock. It falls away easily after a few seconds. He seems to be struggling to unwind the chain, though. Ria also doesn't notice someone else on the other side of the fence. Émeric is tip toeing towards her carefully. He is somehow avoiding the crunchy leaves underfoot, leaving her – to all outward appearances – unaware of his approach.

"Got the chain-mmmmm…" This time I silence the Doctor. By cupping my whole hand over his mouth rather than just a finger to his lips... I want to see what they're going to do without knowing we're here.

Ria's eyes peek over the top of her book without moving her head as Émeric sinks down into a crouch right in front of her.

"What are you doing out here again?" He asks tenderly.

Ria waits for a moment before responding, looking down pointedly at her book when she does. "Hiding from your family."

"Why? They all like you. Quite a lot, actually."

"Yeah, but everyone keeps insisting we're supposed to be celebrating because it's Thanksgiving and that I shouldn't be working."

"We are celebrating. It is Thanksgiving. You shouldn't be working." He affirms with that same voice. His hands sneak out in front of him, picking up one of the fallen leaves and placing it in the book, before creeping over hers, and using them to shut the cover softly. She lets him pick it up and set it on the ground, before he settles down next to her. She shakes her head, but the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth says she isn't actually annoyed.

Émeric drapes his arm around Ria's shoulders, and leans in to kiss her. It's a practiced motion, an easy one. Something they have obviously done before, possibly for a while now. This time, though, they are interrupted as the gate groans loudly under the Doctor's push, and both Ria and Émeric jump to their feet in shock, staring with wide eyes in our direction.

"Doctor! Clara!" Émeric calls happily after a moment, dashing towards the Doctor and pulling him into a tight hug. Ria chuckles hesitantly, eyes finding mine.

"So I don't have to find a leash for any elephants then?" I can't help but ask.

She shakes her head, a little sheepishly, but happily all the same. "Nope, I've got it under control."

"Just wanted to check in, you know, see how things were going." The Doctor explains.

Émeric opens his mouth, but changes his reply mid-thought.

"Would you like to stay with us for the day? I feel like it's been a lot longer for us than it has been for you, and it's a time for family and friends to be together. There will be more than enough to feed two extra." He finishes warmly.

The Doctor and I agree in unison, bringing smiles to all four of us.

Not being able to get exactly where I want to is really not a new feeling. It's actually quite a familiar one. But, after everything that has happened over the last few days …

I really hadn't expected to get locked out.

By the TARDIS.

Again.

Though, it is rather odd. Usually when she decides to not play nice, I end up lost in a maze of corridors, trying to find something that has completely disappeared without a trace – my room, of course, being the usual casualty of the TARDIS' moods. This time though, I have found my room. I just can't get in because the door is stuck tight.

"What've I done now?" I plead quietly, staring at the ceiling.

There isn't an answer of course - not that I had really expected one. I'm not sure if I want to have another proper conversation with her. A reply does come though. No cowish visual interface, no dramatic mechanical noises of protest. Simply a dimming of the already soft lights, making the corridor almost pitch black. As those lights fade out, a bright red trail slowly burns on the floor, moving away from me as it twists lazily down a corridor I'm pretty sure wasn't there a moment ago.

"Is something wrong?" I make sure to keep my hand on the wall as I creep forward a few steps. I don't want to lose track of where I came from. But the red light recedes behind me, and I'm spun around in a few hairpin turns. Soon I'm feeling rather properly lost…

Nothing for it now except to keep going I guess.

Finally, the light creeps off the floor and wraps around a large doorframe. It seems out of place. Heavy wood, slightly warped with age, set into the glossy metal. For a moment, I hesitate, hand held out in front of me, reaching for the handle of the door.

From the other side, there is a very strange noise… It sounds like the Doctor, but it also sounded like a whimper. The door gives way without the slightest pause, no real resistance despite the imposing face. Beyond it, from what the limited light lets me see, is a very cluttered, but also a very homely room. Assorted knick knacks are everywhere, mostly things I don't really have a name for, or the slightest clue as to what they're supposed to do.

Squeezed into a corner of the room is a reasonably sized bed, and on that bed is the Doctor. His back is to the door, but as I creep closer I can tell he is shaking slightly. Not quite shivering, but every few seconds, his body twitches slightly before going still again. Each time he seems to pull closer in on himself, almost as if he is trying to protect himself by becoming smaller.

As I try to cross the room quietly, my toe catches on the spine of a book I hadn't noticed, sending me tipping forward. I catch myself with my hands, and send a glare at the offending book. Its title: Type 40 TARDIS Manual, surprises me. Righting myself, I keep a better eye on my surroundings until I'm standing right at the edge of the bed, eyes locked down on him.

This is not the Doctor as I have ever seen. The blankets have been kicked down to his ankles and his face is pained, his usually expressive features knitted together firmly.

Is he… is he dreaming? Is he having some kind of nightmare?

With great care, I hesitantly creep onto the mattress, not knowing if it will be soft or firm, if it will creak or make some sound under the extra weight, or even set off some kind of alarm or… something. After all the nightmares - or memories, or whatever they were - that he has helped me through, I really want to help him, too.

My weight settling down without any noises lends me a bit of confidence, so I scotch closer to him until I'm gently pressed into his back. Curled up as he is, our height difference isn't quite as marked as usual. I reach over him with one of my arms, tucking my elbow just underneath his and resting my hand lightly on his stomach. He stiffens momentarily, but doesn't move or make any sounds. This response, or rather the lack of response, makes me feel a little more sure of myself. Using my arm hooked around him to pull myself snugly against him, I manage to snake my other arm underneath him, and twine one of my feet between his legs, hooking my foot around his shin.

"Clara?" He asks sleepily.

"Yeah, Doctor, it's just me."

"How did you find me?"

"The TARDIS led me here."

"Did something fall?"

"I err, I tripped over your TARDIS manual."

"Really?" He asks, sounding much more awake.

"I did, but seriously, you've got a manual for this thing?"

"Yes – no – well, I used to?"

Sometimes he does struggle with tenses. He always tells me that it's all relative. But this time, he genuinely seems confused as to what the right answer is, because there does appear to be a right answer.

"Did she get rid of it like she did my bedroom? Didn't want you having all the answers?" I ask lightly.

"No… She made a point of making me find it a few times, actually. It was me that got rid of it. I threw it in a supernova." He admits.

"Why?"

He considers his words before giving them in a thought out tone. "I disagreed with it."

"How did it find its way back here then?"

"Apparently she brought more memories back than just the Etulian Sun. That book is a bit of a nightmare itself." He grumbles.

Speaking of nightmares…

"Doctor… do you…" I can't quite seem to finish the question. It sounds silly in my head, but I want to know, and I'm really not sure.

"Do I what, Clara?"

"Dream… Doctor, do you dream?"

"Of course I do. Everybody dreams, Clara." He almost purrs. I can feel him shift slightly, moving his body so there is less weight on the arm I've laced under him.

"What is it that you dream about, Doctor?"

"The same thing everyone dreams of I expect."

"Which is?"

"Where I'm going."

"But you're not going anywhere; you're just wandering about – aren't you?"

"Wandering and being lost aren't the same thing. You can wander towards something. Just because the shortest distance to something is a straight line doesn't mean you always want to go that way."

"If you dream about where you're going, well, you were scared – really scared when I found you."

"I didn't mean for you to see me like that. That's why I came here to sleep…"

"You're allowed to be scared, Doctor." I pause, knowing the weight of the question I'm about to ask. "This is about Trenzalore, isn't it?"

His silence is equally as heavy. "Yes," he finally replies.

"You don't know what really happened there, Doctor - it might not be what you think. I don't believe what Simeon said. Not after all I saw of you."

"Oh, Clara," he sighs. "There was one me you didn't see."

"That man… the one you said 'broke the promise?'"

"Yes… He was the one – he was me when I did it, when I… when I burned my own people."

My face, already pressed into his back burrows closer, hiding even though he can't see me. Whispering an apology I'm not entirely sure he can hear, or if I want him to hear. The hand that finds mine draped over his side says he did heard me, as does the murmuring that it's okay.

"I've never really talked about it. But maybe I should, maybe it's time. Everything ends." He sighs.

"Not everything."

Oh. Ohh… Did I just say that?

"No, not everything. Not always." He agrees, twining his fingers through mine.

It isn't really saying 'it,' that little piece of information that scared me so much I tried to keep him out of my head. But at the same time, it is saying it. Because what doesn't always end is love. And here the two of us are, 'fiercely protective,' of the people we love, curled around each other, trying to ward off what can be the most daunting enemy of all: the thoughts in your own head.

And if I know why I did what I did, he probably has guessed, too. He is a clever boy after all. I don't know how this will work out, and I know one day, I'll have to break his hearts and leave him, one way or another. But, maybe, just maybe, that is okay. Not because he will be sad then, but because we will both be happy now. Just like the TARDIS said to me…

"You can talk about it, if you want to. I'd listen, Doctor."

I can feel him chuckle lightly, before the muscles in his back contract as he stifles a yawn. He mutters something too low for me to make out as he shifts under my hold again. A second later, a blanket is tossed over us both haphazardly by the Doctor.

He settles back down, and sighs contently on a deep breath.

"I know you would. For now though, lets both get a night of good sleep. Without any interruptions from bar fights, elephants, appointments at dawn, nightmares, memories, or anything else, eh?"

I hum my assent.

"Goodnight, my Clara." He wishes me tenderly.

"Sleep well, my Doctor." I return, resting my head against his back and shutting my eyes.

A mechanical hum echoes softly in the room, and the blanket draped over my shoulder seems to pull itself more snuggly around us.

I'm not sure if I imagine her voice or not, tutting quietly before speaking. "His room is always a health and safety nightmare." A moment later, the scraping of a book being pushed into its proper spot on a shelf also sounds from behind me. The room goes quiet then, with nothing but the gentle breathing of the Doctor to be heard. It's a peaceful rhythm that guides me to a much needed night of undisturbed sleep, with the promise of seeing his smiling face come morning.