After getting the kids off to school, Clara went back into the kitchen and made two cups of coffee. Two, because she had seen the blue box on the corner. Then as if on perfect timing, the door bell rang. Smiling to herself Clara went to the door, partially skipping. As a thought struck her, she straightened her composure, and opened the door, slowly. He was wearing a t-shirt and a tan jacket. His black hair perfectly straight, instead of floppy, like she was used to seeing. It stuck up in the back though. She fought a smile as he stood there, incredibly patient.

"Can I come in then?" He asked.

She stepped aside and let him in. While she continued to make the coffee he just stood in the middle of the room.

"Mind if I sit down?"

"No, go ahead." She thought that odd. He didn't have to ask her these things. Did he feel like an unwelcome guest? He sat down at the kitchen table. She brought the two mugs over to him, setting one of in front of him.

"What's with the..." He motioned to the two cups.

"Coffee? I was wondering when you would ring. Don't think I didn't notice." Clara looked at the magazine in front of her when she felt his eyes on her.

"Hello?" A familiar voice rang out. Angie came back into the kitchen, followed by Artie.

"What are you doing back. You're not ditching again."

"Relax. I forgot my books." She went over to the Island and grabbed them, stuffing them into her backpack. "Who's he, you're new boyfriend?"

"That's the Doctor. He changes. That's what he does, remember." Clara said.

"You told them?" The Doctor asked.

Clara just shrugged.

"Still thought you'd be taller." Angie said.

"That can't be right. Thought you grew a couple of inches." The Doctor put his hand flat on Angie's head and drew his arm back. She came up to his chest. "No, wait,you're still short."

"I'm a kid. I'm supposed to be short."

"ow old are you Angie? 37?"

Artie laughed.

"I'm thirteen." said Angie, trying hard not to laugh too. She rather liked this Doctor better.

Artie was still laughing. "He talks funny,"

"Go on, get to school." Clara shooed them toward the back door. "If your dad hears you've missed the bus again you won't be the only ones in trouble." After shooing them out, Clara sat back down at the table. The Doctor was already seated, his arms crossed, leaning back in the chair, feet on the edge of the table. His former lanky form would not have been able to do that. His eleventh regeneration had been like a uncoordinated house hat. He'd probably would have fallen out of his chair by now. "You want to talk about something."

"You called me pretty, like before with the cyberman, when the cyber planner.."

"You want to talk about..before?" He didn't want to talk about his former self with her. He had to move on. But he was still holding on to her.

"No." She felt she couldn't share certain things with this man, things she shared with the other him. "I shouldn't have brought it up." She paused.

"I just look different, and act different. Bu' I'm still him. Buried underneath, it's still there, if you look 'arder."

"I don't want to look." She found herself afraid to look any further. There would be loneness, loss, and sadness, and guilt, all that weight. He was truly older somehow, more...grown up. On the outside he looked psychically older than his previous life but not too old. She'd have to peg him at thirty-four, thirty-five maybe. She was twenty-five. "I don't know if I like this you yet." She blew on her coffee and took a sip. He leaned forward, his eyes menacing.

"I think you're lying." A smile spread across his face.

Despite smiling back, Clara felt a chill creep up her spine. "Have you been her all night?" He avoided her question and her gaze. He lifted the mug to his lips and drank, no doubt stalling while he tried to formulate an answer. A moment past before he met her eyes again, resignation that he couldn't evade her question after all.

"Well, I wasn't 'ere all night. And I didn't actually sleep."

"That wasn't necessary." Clara said. "But thank you."

"Thanks for the coffee." He responded.

"It's the least I could do."

A heavy sigh purred through his chest as he swallowed another sip. Displeasure flashed on his face before he pulled his 'poker face" back up. Was it from the coffee or something else? He set the mug down, eyeing her. She thought she could see his tiredness and exhaustion, his eyes were too serious. She realized she must be a pain in the rear and could even drive the bravest of men far away. But still. "You didn't have to do that."

But he did. "It's just my job. To keep you safe."

"Who's job is it to keep you safe?" He just smiled but it faltered a little. "I'll tell you." She said, leaning forward. "It's mine, and anyone else who walks through your doors."

"I don't need to be saved. You can't save me this time Clar-a Oswald. No one can."