The Doctor ran along the halls, going about his usual routine: "Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Very wrong, how could they even come up with that?! They weren't even there until a thousand years later!"

The Doctor promised a nice day in town, and found his way into a museum. Now Clara had to suffer along with it. "Doctor, why do you even come here? You don't agree with anything."

"Because, Clara… Things happen. I don't know. Why are you never happy?" The grey haired man was currently poking at a fossil. Muttering, "Why is this labeled extinct? They aren't extinct yet. Not for another hundred years." The Doctor looked into another hall. "Ooh! Art!"

"Doctor! Wait up!" Clara huffed and ran after him. She hissed at him trying to run silently through the halls. "You can't run in a museum! We're supposed to be quiet!" The Doctor held onto a corner of a doorway and swung himself around to the right. She followed him into a large room.

The Doctor looked at the tall, white walls. "Why are they always white? White is boring. Why not red or blue? I had a white TARDIS once, embarrassing." He went to a picture from Van Gough. "I met him once. We fought a blind monster together in a cathedral."

Ignoring Clara's imploring "What?" He ran to another painting, the Mona Lisa. "Ahh. The great Da Vinci."

Clara looked at the painting. "Hm, no eyebrows. Reminds me of someone I used to know."

"Like I said, embarrassing." The Doctor said, stressing the word in his Scottish accent.

They looked at a few paintings as the Doctor told the story behind them. The Doctor gasped as he looked up at another sign, Culture. "C'mon, Clara!" Clara looked up from a Picasso.

"Doctor! We can't run everywhere!" Clara trotted after him.

"Yes we caaan!" The Doctor replied in a sing-song voice. Clara smiled and caught up to him.

They came to a short corridor with a few things from other cultures. The Doctor ran straight past from bonsais, pots, some combat clothing, and a fez. Clara stopped short as he ran by and turned a corner. He didn't even look twice at the fez.

It seemed her Doctor was, truly, gone. No more bowties, no more fez. She remembered a memory about a fez a long time ago:

"Someday, you can just walk past a fez."

"Never gonna happen." He said proudly, plopping the red atrocity on his head.

The Doctor looked around the corner. "Clara?"

Clara looked up, "Huh? Yeah?"

"C'mon." He jerked his head.

"Right. Coming."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just. Nothing."

"You've gone very quiet. You're brooding when you've gone quiet."

"Nothing. Really. It's just… times change. C'mon!" She ran down the hall to another section of the museum. The Doctor looked after her a moment before looking back at the fez. He nodded good-bye and ran after Clara.