A/N: This is a short drabble. What if Clara's TARDIS was the diner at Lake Silencio?

Clara turned towards the doorway when she heard the bell ring. There were three people, entering in a frantic state. Clara observed a sandy haired man with dark brown eyes, a red headed woman with hazel eyes, and a woman with very curly blonde hair and green eyes. The curly haired woman had a TARDIS blue envelope in her hand, and she seemed to be searching for something. The man approached Clara.

"Hello, can I get anything for you?" Clara was quite used to being a waitress by now, as her TARDIS was stuck as an American diner. It had been stuck in this form for quite awhile 160 years- if Clara remembered correctly.

"Actually, I was wondering if you've seen a dark blue envelope anywhere in this establishment?"

"No, I haven't. Sorry," Clara grabbed a towel and began to clean a mug, expressing no interest in the matter at hand.

"Oh," the man seemed a bit disheartened. He began to walk away, towards the other two women. He paused and turned around to face her again. "Have you seen a funny man perhaps? Tall, gangly, quiffed brown hair?"

Clara shook her head in an apologetic manner. "Quite a lot of people come here, I'm not exactly sure if I know who you're talking about specifically." This was a bit of lie of Clara's part. First of all, at this very moment, her TARDIS was parked a bit of away from Lake Silencio in Utah, virtually in the middle of nowhere. To her knowledge at least, there were barely any visitors, and second there would be no tourists in this weather.

"Wearing a tweed suit, suspenders, bow tie? You can't miss him," the man insisted.

Clara froze. The description sounded almost identical to her Doctor, the first of The Doctor's incarnations that she had seen. And now that she was remembering... She had seen a man who fit that description enter the diner a few minutes ago. He had asked her where the loo was, asked her for a straw for no reason apparent to her, and hadn't left the restroom since. She hadn't really been paying attention to his appearance, she was too busy worrying about how Ashildr was doing on her mini mission.

"Yes, actually."

The man's eyes widened, as if he was surprised. Clara supposed that was to be expected. After all, the man he had described, had died. Also it was a very specific description, and most people just didn't have the same dress sense.

"What's your name?" Clara asked. "My name is Clara. Clara Oswald."

"Rory Williams," the man answered her while walking away.

Clara merely shook her head and began to hum, noncommittally to herself. She hoped Ashildr would come back soon. Her curiosity had been piqued and she wondered if Ashildr would be willing to sneak around. She entertained herself with the idea that maybe that man was talking about The Doctor.

She watched as the curly haired woman was talking avidly to the other two, waving around her opened TARDIS blue envelope. Professor River Song, Clara remembered her from Trenzalore. The red haired woman seemed to be distracted about something else, on a table farther away from them. Clara followed her line of sight and spotted another TARDIS blue envelope that was ripped open.

The other two realized that the red head was walking towards the envelope, almost as if she were in a trance. The other two followed her and they all appeared to have comprehended something. Just at that moment, the restroom door swung open and Clara got her first real look at the man.

She felt her chest constrict and she stopped breathing. This had to be a younger version of him, when he was traveling with different companions. It was The Doctor, alive and seemingly well.

He had a straw in his mouth and was grinning in an absurd fashion. Rory and the two women stared at him in shock. Clara felt the same as those three looked.

The bell rang and Clara backed up from the scene in front of her. She looked for another moment longer, then switched her attention towards the door.

Ashildr stood there, looking a bit disgruntled with dirt stains and gravel in her hair on her clothes and skin. She had her hair tied up messily, which was different from when she had first left the TARDIS.

"Ashildr," Clara hissed at the immortal.

"Clara-" Ashildr was cut off by Clara putting a hand over her mouth.

"Ashildr, look," Clara whispered and looked pointedly towards the loo.

Ashildr rolled her eyes and looked towards where Clara was looking. She was confused. She removed Clara's hand.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Don't you see it, Ashildr?" Clara asked. Her voice was slightly hoarse and breathless.

"See what?" Ashildr's voice was low, as she noticed that Clara had lowered her voice.

"It's The Doctor."

Ashildr's eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to the side. "He doesn't look like The Doctor."

"It's the first incarnation of him that I've seen. That I remember." Clara was reminded from when The Doctor and her went to Trenzalore. When she had begun to remember conversations that she wasn't supposed to remember.

"-Clara? Clara?" Ashildr asked.

Clara immediately shook her head, pushing away the memories. "Sorry, Ashildr. You were saying?"

"Those four," Ashildr pointed towards The Doctor, Rory, the red head, and River, who had sat down in a booth, "want something to drink."

Clara quickly went to get drinks for the four. Ashildr watched her calculatingly, Clara was moving quicker than she normally did.

Clara watched from the countertop as The Doctor, River Song, Rory, and the unnamed red haired woman were talking to each other. The Doctor and River both had identical blue TARDIS patterned notebooks.

"Clara, are you okay?" Clara felt a hand on her shoulder. Ashildr.

"I'm fine." Clara leaned against the metal countertop, still watching the four. Her right hand hovered over her chest, where her heart was. She faintly brushed the blue fabric of her dress. It was a gesture she had picked up over time. It meant she was thinking deep thoughts and was remembering old memories.

Ashildr squeezed Clara's shoulder gently, and left. Clara was left at the countertop, staring wistfully at the table of the four. She felt warmth and tore her eyes away from the booth, grabbing a rag to scrub the counter with meticulous vigor.