As it turns out, Clara Oswald imagined the whole scenario with the Doctor up.

It's been a recurring dream of hers that always seems to pop up as soon as she thinks she's made an improvement.

She tells this to Sam when they meet again, and he assures her that it's normal. She misses her friend, she's still getting habituated to a new, foreign environment. It's not bad that she wants to go back to the past – she holds her traveling days in the fondest part of her heart (despite the rocky ending, they still were the most precious days of her life).

Sam suggests maybe taking a break from work for a day or two - to go out on the town with Darcy (because she seems to be the most cultured person in the building) and relax a bit.

She says she'll think about it.

So naturally, Clara does the exact opposite.

She throws herself into her work, leaving her lab to eat and use the bathroom. She can fix the broken pieces of technology, she can figure out what the hell the pieces of (what looks to be scrap metal) are that clutter her work space, she can help make a difference by her unique past experiences.

She feels useful – like she's finally cracking the shell of a person that she has been for far too long.

Except the no sleep catches up to her, and in the middle of walking to the kitchen to grab a granola bar (or some sort of sustenance), Clara passes out.

Lucky enough, K9 hasn't left her side since she reassembled the damn thing, so someone's able to come get her and transport her to the couch in the common room. Clara isn't sure of the exact amount of time that she spends asleep on the couch, but it is dreamless and serene for the first time in ages.

There are no old men in boxes, or soldiers in metal armor, younger old men on war-torn planets, there are no other versions of herself, or anything else, and for this, Clara is extremely grateful.

When she wakes up, however, she quickly finds that she isn't alone. Natasha is sitting on the couch across from her reading the paper, Clint's scrolling through something on his phone while sprawled across the floor, and, perhaps, the most shocking revelation is that Clara Oswald is sharing her couch with none other than James Barnes.

He's still asleep – at least she thinks he is – his breath is even and controlled as it flutters against the back of her neck. His arm is draped over her waist and while it's certainly heavy (not as heavy as the metal one though), it's by no means uncomfortable – in fact, if Clara's honest, she finds it comforting. His legs are tangled with hers, which are prickly and gross from not showering (or shaving) in about four days (not ideal snuggling material, but she doubts that anyone really cares about the amount of hair on her legs).

It's nice.

And then Clint takes her picture like the piece of shit he is.

Natasha laughs, and suddenly Clara's moment of tranquility is ruined. James wakes up, and Rogers and Sam come into the room overtaken by heaving fits of laughter. All eyes are on her and James, so she does what she finds comes most naturally: she gets up, smiles, and leaves the room for the safe haven that is her lab.

Too bad she doesn't take her sweet time walking out of there - she would've heard the shit everyone was giving James.

That really would have gotten her hopes up, though, and Clara knows from experience that sometimes somethings are too good to be true.

Darcy decides that Clara needs to get out of her lab because her "stench is making its way towards Jane's lab, and if Clara can get away with Sciencing around the clock, Jane might get the idea that she can too."

It sounds super insensitive, but Clara gets it.

Darcy's got a weird way of showing that she cares.

So, Clara leaves to head back to her room and shower and change and maybe watch something on the tele (of course K9 follows her; that dog is connected to her at the hip).

Clara isn't sure of the time – it's dark out, and there's barely anyone loitering in the halls, she assumes it must be pretty early in the morning. She makes her way to her flat, unlocks it without a hitch, and checks the time: 3:03.

Maybe she'll sleep for an hour, then.

Nevertheless, she runs to her bathroom, strips off her clothes and jumps into the shower. The warm water feels like heaven on her skin; she scrubs off all the grime and dust (and shaves!), she lathers shampoo into her hair – relishing how silky the bubbles feel, and by the time she exits the shower, she feels like a new woman.

She decides that functioning on four hours of sleep for a week's worth of time is not going to be beneficial for her, so she might as well try to sleep.

It's the thought that counts, anyway.

Except as soon as she plops herself on her bed and pulls up the covers, she's out like a light.

There are no dreams of the Doctor, instead, her mind is content with the vast nothingness that appears instead of the millions of thoughts that race through her head.

Maybe the Clara has finally swayed the universe.

Weeks fly by. James remains a constant in her life, but also a variable.

Or, she's pretty sure that he's trying to flirt with her.

It's cute; he still likes to spend time with her in her lab while she's fixing her machines and everything else Tony (and UNIT) has her doing, but she's feeling better – missing the Doctor, but not as much – and talking more, and well, she's always been known to be a bit of a flirt (or a wild one, as her old friends would say).

And everyone keeps insinuating that James once was quite the catch – every time she passes by Rogers (who is usually by default with Sam or James), he always seems to be retailing James' former glory with the ladies.

James always looks mortified, and she can't help but let little bubbles of laughter out from behind her hand.

Clara's pretty sure that Darcy's been giving him lessons on how to talk to girls in the twenty-first century, and while he's failing miserably, it's quite heartening.

While Clara admits that she's made a lot of improvements over the time that she's been living and working in New York, she's not foolish enough to not accept that she's going to be faced with challenges along the way.

Some days are overwhelming.

Some days she can't get out of bed because she knows that the ache in her bones is a longing for something more than sorting and fixing and analyzing alien tech. Some days she breaks down in tears in her lab because she'd rather hear the quiet chatter of her English class at Coal Hill instead of the whirl of machines. Sometimes she sits in her bathroom – where there aren't any windows, because the New York skyline just makes her miss home more than ever.

But those times aren't nearly as frequent as they used to be – she contributes that to Darcy's relentless effort to get her out of her lab and to make friends with the people that reside in the tower with her.

She attends more movie nights, more team dinners, she goes out in the city with Darcy, Jane, and Thor when they ask. When James asks her for book recommendations, she picks out some of her favorites of all time. When Natasha asks her if she's like to learn some self-defense maneuvers, Clara accepts. She jokes around more with Clint. She argues more with Rogers.

She becomes better friends with all of them.

And soon, she finds that she wasn't nearly as lonely as she thought.

She's got friends, and yeah, she's going to miss her best friend, but that shouldn't hinder her from putting herself out there and getting to know more unique and funny and wonderful people.

Clara Oswald decides that she doesn't need the universe – she makes her own fate – and that means that she's going to do her damnedest to make herself happy.

And that means being with friends, going out with Darcy on a Tuesday night just for the hell of it, engaging in a prank war with Clint, Rogers, and Natasha, and flirting with James so that he maybe gets the hint that she's ready for whatever's next in the progression of their friendship.

"I don't get it."

"Don't get what?" Darcy questions while taking a huge bite of a sandwich. Her glasses are perched gently on her nose as she sits on the only clear counter space in Clara's lab.

"I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do with this thing, and it still isn't working."

"If that's a metaphor, it went right over my head."

Clara groans in frustration.

"Darcy, you're not helping."

"Yeah, so?"

"Your job title is literally Lab Assistant."

Darcy shrugs, taking another bite of her sandwich.

"Bloody Americans," Clara murmurs under her breath.

"I heard that!" Yells the girl sitting down around a huge bite of sandwich.

Clara goes back to ignoring the other human and fiddling with the machine in front of her. After about thirty minutes, she finally figures out what she's been doing wrong.

"I got it!" She shouts to Darcy. Except Darcy's left the lab and she's stuck looking like a mad woman. K9's there for her, though, and it lets out its attempt at a bark. It's a little sad, but Clara appreciates the sentiment all the same.

Deciding she no longer holds the patience to attempt to work on anymore of the endless projects littering her lab, Clara cleans up and makes her way to her room. She bumps into Sam on her way there, and says a quick hello. She takes a quick shower and gets changed into a casual jumper and pants. She fixes her makeup, grabs a book (Sense and Sensibility, if you must know) and begins her journey to the common room.

Except on her way there, she comes across Rogers and James in the midst of a tense discussion – and she's the topic of debate.

She feels bad for eavesdropping, but curiosity always seems to get the best of her. She does her best to stay carefully silent and unseen as she listens to the conversation in the hallway ahead of her.

They're pretty quiet, so she doesn't catch all the parts of the conversation, but she's able to hear enough that she can piece together what they're saying.

Something about how Steve thinks he should wait a bit longer; how he's not sure if Clara's completely stable (which she isn't, she doubts she'll ever be, but that just something she'll have to live with), or if she's ready or interested in anything regarding romance at the moment.

James says that he's aware that she's going through a lot right now, but he brings up how much time he spends with her and how her flirting's gotten more and more straight forward. How Darcy's been updating him on how she's doing when he's not around. How he seems to notice how she lights up when he's near.

How he's pretty sure he's half way in love with her.

That's when Clara decides it's her time to leave, and she skitters off in the opposite direction, and back to her room.

She doesn't want to be in the company of others at the moment, because this is a Big Thing.

And that means she's gonna deal with it like a Big Girl (aka go back to her room and stress about it while she watches re-runs of Brooklyn 99).

She gets to thinking, and decides that maybe stepping out with James wouldn't be such a bad thing. She likes him too – he's kind, and devilishly fit, and a right piece of work. He's helpful and more than a wonderful friend – but, she's worried, deep down, that he'll leave too.

She's terrified of loss – losing herself, losing the Doctor, losing Danny, losing her friends – losing everyone she holds dear – and she knows how losing the Doctor felt; she's not sure she wants to go through with that.

And she's almost ready to start another episode when she comes to the realization that she can't keep living like this. She's so worried about what might happen, that she won't focus on what's happening currently – maybe that's the time travel talking, but, it doesn't matter.

If going out with James will make her happier now, then why the hell not?

The Universe has it out for Clara Oswald, but she says, "Fuck it.", and marches out of her room, clad in the most unflattering pajamas straight across to James'.

Knocking on the door, she has some second thoughts, but then she remembers that she's got nothing to be scared of and calms down a little bit (or, she doesnt calm down much at all, but it's the thought that counts.)

He answers the door rubbing his eyes. He's got sweatpants slung low on his hips – and he's bare chested. Clara swallows, a whole lot more nervous than before.

"Hey." She says.

"Clara – is everything okay?"

"Yeah – everything's bloody fantastic, actually, I was wondering if, um, I could speak to you - if it's a good time?"

"Yeah, yeah." He perks up, "Come right in." James ushers her inside and leads her to the living room. She sits down on his couch. He sits down next to her. She takes in his room for a moment -it's very precise, but also unorganized. Picture and posters and ticket stubs littler the walls, the furniture is arranged very angularly – it's crisp and modern with the dash of antiquity and she's never seen anything more James.

"So, what's up."

She clams up for a moment, running fake lines in her head did not prepare her at all for the real thing.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime? For dinner? Like a date?" She asks; Clara wishes she was a bit more confident, but this is a big step for her, so she lets it slide.

James' smile reaches the corner of his eyes; it makes him look years younger – Clara doesn't think she's ever seen him this happy before.

It's nice, that she has this effect on people again.

"I'd love that, actually." He takes her hand and brings it to his lips. It's very old fashioned, and Clara tries to fight the grin that spreads across her face.

"Tomorrow at six sounds nice? My place?" She toys with her hair.

"Sounds like a date, doll."

She kisses the corner of his lips, she feels him tense up, "See you there, James."

She stands up and lets herself out.

"Same to you." He calls, still sedentary on the couch.

She not in her flat for five minutes before there's a knock on her door.

It's obviously James.

When she opens the door, he lunges at her, wraps her up like she's a precious gem, and kisses her like it's 1945. Clara's kissed plenty of people from plenty of places in her life, but she's never kissed someone who performs the action quite as well as he does.

It's nice – there really isn't another word that encompasses it all; because it's not too passionate, but yet it is. There are a lot of unsaid words – like how Clara hasn't been this happy since the Doctor left, or how much she's come to care for him during her time in America, or millions of other tiny thoughts about how James has helped her come to terms with what happened to her.

And when they wake up the next morning, naked and tangled in each other, Clara doesn't even care that they might be moving too fast, because this is what she wants.

And if the universe doesn't like that, then Clara decides it can go fuck itself. She doesn't need its approval.

this has been done for a few months at least but i just haven't had a moment to post it on . I'm mostly on AO3 now so, if ur able to,head over there and read some of my stuff.

thank u all for sticking through my sporadic posting schedule. u all mean the absolute world to me.