A/N: Well, after all this time, here is the epilogue to this story. :)

I'd like to thank everyone who read all the way up to here, I'd never thought this story would get such a response. This is actually my first completed multi-chapter story, and I'm glad you all liked it!

I'd also like to thank everyone who reviewed, whether it was compliments, assurances to update and keep writing, or reviews that threatened to impale me with a pitchfork. xD (Chapter Seventeen was probably the hardest chapter to deal with.) Thank you all!

On another note, I've posted another story of sorts, Au Revoir, an Eleven & Clara Regeneration one-shot. But if that's too sad for you, look no further! I'm writing another Whoufflé AU! (Yay!) Title is The Paperback Writer (Hah...yeah song reference.) and it involves Clara being an author of sorts, and I'm including a lot of past and presence Doctor Who characters in it. The first chapter's already up!

This takes place let's say... a few years or months after the last chapter? I actually don't know, but does it really matter? xD Hope you all enjoy! :)

Epilogue

She'd never thought that she'd see the city again.

It welcomed her back into its aura like an ancient friend, even more beautiful that she had first seen it. New York, a surprise of sorts from The Doctor during their somewhat 'tedious' summer holiday.

And one of the first places they went to, was a toy store.

Clara's stomach hurt from all the laughing towards her boyfriend.

Why, you may ask? Well, it's a rather weird reason.

For starters, he was a horrible dancer.

Along with the fact that he was dancing on a giant piano in a toy store.

F.A.O Shwarz had this somewhat 'undeniable' deal that if you got to play on this giant floor piano that they had for display, you would get a miniature one for free. Obviously, the free piano mat was manufactured for toddlers, not like The Doctor cared. Besides, he just wanted to play on it like any other child lined up to in that same building.

Other people smiled in amusement of him, mainly because that's what The Doctor did. He enjoyed having the ability to make people laugh, it was obviously better than making people do otherwise.

He hopped around the place, the keys under his feet a florescent glow, much to his enjoyment. Clara giggled at him in amusement, for she couldn't imagine how someone for his age could look so much as a childish idiot.

The Doctor motioned for her to join him, to which Clara shook her head. He pretended to pout at the rejection, only making Clara giggle harder. He hopped over to her, taking her two small hands in his, Clara looking up at him quizzically, The Doctor then instantly dragging her along with him. "Doctor no!" Clara cried, the white piano key underneath her feet a bright blue.

"Are you really expecting me to play on this thing?"

"Well, yes, I mean, that's what it's made for." he shrugged.

And as Clara followed him, she realized that, maybe playing on a giant piano in a toy store was somewhat fun.

They continued for a few more minutes, just playing like they were mere five-year olds, that is, until The Doctor abruptly turned around and almost ran into Clara in the process. She stood still to prevent from bumping into the boy, looking up at him, and smiled.

And he smiled back.

Then, he took her hand in his, much to Clara's surprise.

"Clara...?" he said her name.

"Yes?"

"Reach into my left pocket."

"What?" she looked at him in confusion.

"Just do it." he assured her.

She raised an eyebrow at him, then apprehensively doing as she was told. Her tiny left hand slipped into the pocket of his coat, feeling around for a bit, until her fingertips brushed on the fabric of a red velvet case. She stopped. She looked up at The Doctor in confusion, then slowly taking a small box out, her eyes softening at the sight of it. Her eyes met his in surprise, him taking her left hand in his, opening the box to a little silver ring.

"...Clara, will you marry me?" he asked quietly, on one knee, a question that Clara had never thought would be asked to her.

The people around them definitely saw, petty revelry and sounds of sympathy being directed towards them, Clara just staring at him in an expression that could mean a million other things.

He was proposing to her.

On a giant floor piano.

In a toy store.

"...yes."

She wouldn't have expected the amount of cheering people could make at such a response.

Clara smiled down at him, for once in her life, that was how she really felt. Just happy.

The most peculiar atmosphere for a marriage proposal, but Clara couldn't have imagined it anywhere else.

It wasn't romantic fantasy, such as the kind portrayed in novels and films, not really.

And so it may seem as romantic fantasy, to Clara, it was far from that.

More like alien, if you asked her.