A/N: Surprise, bitches, I bet you thought you had seen the last of me.

Welcome to my new AU! As always, I would like to thank Marion for drawing the most beautiful fanart to this story.

I would also like to thank Ana, for giving me the entire plot to this fic and trusting me enough to write it well. I hope I won't disappoint!

Without further delay, here it is, Fall In Love In A Single Touch.

"I think you're equivocating. Sir. "

The professor was taken aback by the sudden participation in his class. He wasn't expecting it; no, being questioned like that wasn't part of his daily routine. He was a professor, for god's sake. People would attend his lectures for the credits, most likely not pay attention to any of his mumblings, doze off amidst his long and prolonged sentences and go home afterwards. One or other student would have questions, but never question him.

He looked around the crowded auditorium, looking for whom that voice belonged. He would never have found her, weren't for her small arm risen just above her head holding the open palm of her petite hand. He crossed his arms, creating a tough barricade between her and he.

"And why's that, miss ?"

He used the same provocative tone as her — except she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she looked rather smug, probably enjoying cross firing him and not at all bothered at what her classmates would think of her. She lowered her arm, "I think we should stop separating the language in literature and linguistics. They go together; one doesn't exist without the other, therefore this feud between the two fields shouldn't exist, either. Mocking writers' leisure is stupid, pardon my vocabulary, because the essence of literature is the linguistic. Semantics, pragmatics, syntax, everything. It's naïve to believe these areas aren't interconnected."

For the first time in his many years of teaching, he noticed the awareness of each set of eyes in the room. Oh, did students love backing the professor into a corner. He didn't feel cornered however, were it her intention or not. With the main purpose of provoking her as well, he softened his frown into a smile. "As far as I'm concerned, you need linguistics to make literature, but not the other way around."

She merely scoffed, causing the hair fallen onto her face to flew away from the air that escaped her lips. "So you're telling me you never once read the literature on your area of expertise?"

He leaned back against his desk in the middle of the stage. "That's a different kind of literature."

"Is it?" she tilted her head in the slightest, "And what's your definition of literature?"

"I don't have one. I teach linguistics, not literature," he shrugged, receiving soft chanters and soft chuckles from the audience. "Tell you what, why don't you all look up the concept of literature and we'll discuss it next class."

He was clearly affronting her, however all the other students took his saying as a sign that the lecture was over and quickly emptied the big room. Everybody left — everybody but her, who still had her eyes locked on his, a permanent smirk in both their faces.

He jumped off the stage with little class, hands buried in his pockets as he slowly approached her. She simply threw her purse over her shoulder and stood up, waiting for him to catch up.

"Walk out with me?"

She nodded, joining his slow pathing — maybe he did it because he was about to lecture her on how not to cross him like that; maybe he felt sorry for how small her legs were in comparison to his; or maybe, just maybe, he had considered her arguments and wanted to further into them.

"May I ask, what are you doing in a linguistic class if you're far more interested in literature?" he prompted, glaring at her with the corner of his eyes. He didn't know her, but he surely acknowledged her brains and her lack of fear to speak her mind, especially when nobody in the academic world did.

"Can't I be interested in both?" she eagerly suggested, dazzling with her legs as they walked within the halls of the university.

"Wouldn't that be a conflict of interests? You said it yourself, there's a feud between linguistics and literature critics."

Her tongue slowly wettened the flesh of her lips, before deciding to come clean with him. "I'm not a student. I was just offered a position here, having finished my thesis last year."

"Oh yeah?!" he was suddenly interested, trying to ignore how old he felt next to her. He couldn't even remember how long ago had he finished his doctorate. "And what was your thesis?"

"Hm, Linguistics and Literature Critics: How Should They Stop Bickering Each Other's Heads Off So They Could Finally Understand Our Language and Communication As A Whole ," she said with the most serious expression, before both of them broke into a faint laughter. "I did an analysis of the subtle feminism in the 19th century pieces of our bright female writers."

"That's indeed very appealing," he agreed, "I guess I'll have to take a look at your work so my knowledge of literature will improve and I'll be one step closer to finally understanding our language and communication as a whole."

He was joking, obviously, however he did make a mental note to go looking for her thesis in the university's library. He carried on, "Tell me, why were you attending one of my lectures if you're not a student?"

"I love learning new things," she admitted with a bit of an ego; he wouldn't mind, she could already tell his was just as big as hers. "I didn't have any lectures myself at the time and I saw your door open. I heard you talking from the corridor and it interested me enough to barge in."

"And butt in, eventually," he teased, retrieving a casual grin from the corner of her mouth. "I guess I'm now obliged to attend to one of your lectures and embarrass you in front of your whole class, Ms—"

"Oswald. Clara Oswald," she announced, "And you're more than welcome to. I love a good discussion."

"I'll keep that in mind, Ms. Oswald," he shuddered, stopping dead in his track and raising his hand to her, "I'm John Smith, but everybody calls me the Doctor."

To his surprise, Clara immediately retrieved, taking a step back and hiding both her hands behind her back, like a turtle hiding back in its shell. "I'm sorry, I… I don't do that."

"Oh," The Doctor became a mixture of awkwardness and embarrassment as he brought his hand back to himself. He judged best to return to his walking. "Germ phobia?"

She did the same. "Something like that." She was awkward. He had become awkward. She had made it awkward, like always. It was moments like that that made her want to crawl into a hole and never come out again. Clearing her throat, she forced an abrupt change of subject, "Why the Doctor ?"

And he embraced the change of subject as much as she did. "What's the point in having a few PhDs if you're not going to title yourself as the Doctor?!"

He was definitely bragging, and she didn't care at all. "Alright, Doctor. "

Neither of them would dare to address the sudden growth of the distance between their bodies; however, he couldn't bring himself to quit gazing at her. He wasn't staring, but trying to see past all the secrets and barriers she had built around her to protect herself. He was trying to see her.

Even if she had lost the strength to glare back at him. Perhaps she was scared of seeing her own reflection in the mirror of his eyes.

"Listen, I'm actually running late for another lecture," he spoke, dreading to cut their meeting short but knowing he had to. "But I'd love to pick up our argument later on. What do you say we grab a cup of coffee afterwards? My treat."

She smiled at this kindness. Not that many people showed her kindness and she was thankful for his small gesture — even though she knew it wouldn't last for much. Not after he learned the truth about her. Her story would always be the same, and she was tired of waiting for a different outcome. Still, the little remaining faith inside of her persisted.

"That'd be lovely, yeah."

A/N: Appreciate a writer's effort to writing thousands of words for free and take the time to leave a comment. Your incentive is the solemn reason why we're still here :)

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