Chapter Text
Bills Potts had known her the Doctor for what, two years now since she and her foster mother first moved into the flat above the shop next to his.
She always thought that the owner of the guitar shop was a bit eccentric and this was coming from an eleven-year-old. Nonetheless, he was kind… once you get to know him a bit better. Behind those 'attack eyebrows', as she likes to refer to them, is a big softie. What piqued her curiosity, however, was the fact that the man doesn't seem to have any friends, well, aside from herself that is.
She knows that he lives alone and barely interacts with anybody. It was strange. Nobody is ever that lonely.
"What are you planning for Valentine's day tomorrow?" the eleven-year-old asked one rainy day. It was a routine of hers to spend time at the shop while waiting for her mother to return from work. She was seated by a desk behind the cashier, finishing her homework.
John Smith looked up from the book he was reading. "Same thing I'm doing today – manning the shop and hoping a customer would show up and buy something," he retorted. It was a slow day today at his guitar shop. The only sale he managed to make so far was from a child who bought a guitar pick. "Oh yes, and baby-sitting you tomorrow."
Bill set down her pencil. "That doesn't count since my mum will pick me up at half-seven – what are you going to do then?"
He shot her an annoyed look. "Aren't you a bit young to be telling me to go look for a date?"
"Aren't you too old to be spending Valentine's Day alone?" she shot back with a triumphant grin. "Don't you ever feel lonely?" she inquired in curiosity. The schoolgirl had noticed that the man only ever interacted with her and any customer that came in. She also realised that he spent Christmas alone.
John shrugged, returning to his book. "You get used to it."
"I saw this one film and the main character eventually became insane from loneliness."
"I'm sure you made that up on the spot and besides," he added. "I'm not completely lonely – I talk to you and your mum.
"Doesn't count, Doctor," Bill stated. "You should get a pet or a best friend or even better, a girlfriend!"
"I think a schoolteacher would suit you."
The Scotsman sighed, lowering the book he held. "Just finish your homework, Bill."
"Mum has Tinder," she tried once more. "Maybe you should download the app and meet someone new – that's how she met Steve."
The Doctor arched a brow. He's far too old for that sort of nonsense and has no intention of even checking the application. John couldn't believe that he was in an argument about relationships with a child.
"Don't you ever feel lonely?"
John remained silent for a few seconds before he chuckled. "I'm guessing that you're bored with your homework?"
Bill shrugged. "I finished it and even if you don't feel lonely, you seem to be rubbish at it."
For starters, his shop was disorganised and it confused her how he was able to find anything that a customer was looking for. Two, he almost always eats takeaway. Three, if it's not takeaway, it's frozen food. How did she know? Easy. She once saw his groceries being delivered and was sure that most of the food that he bought was unhealthy. Four, he well, is grumpy all the time. That's not good.
The Doctor checked the time. Her mother would pick her up anytime now and he would be freed from the eleven-year-old's grilling. She had been asking him the same thing over and over for the past what, four, five months now.
The bell by the entrance chimed and both turned their heads to the source of the noise. "Another interrogation session by DCI Bill Potts?" Moira inquired in amusement.
"It was definitely a pleasant experience," he remarked sarcastically, finally returning to the book he had been reading.
"I just think he should socialise more with the outside world," the child explained as she adjusted her backpack and stood next to her mother.
"Didn't I say it's rude to stick your nose into other people's business?"
"But this is the Doctor and he's not other people."
Moira shook her head in defeat. "Thank you for babysitting her, mate."
"See you tomorrow, Doctor."
"Only if you stop asking the same question."
Bill merely giggled as she and her mother left the shop.
Once they were out of sight, John shut his book and checked the time again. It's closing time.
He's not as miserable as he seemed. Sure, living all alone as he is can be intimidating at times, but on the bright side, he doesn't have to deal with another human. That's a pro.
He pouted his lips. "I'm not lonely," he said out loud even though deep down, he knew the truth. There were times he wished he had someone to talk to. He had been living like this for quite a long time and if he dared to admit, it was getting to him.
--
"Wake up."
John stirred in his sleep before he rolled over, groaning something inaudible.
"I said wake up."
He had never heard that voice before and with such a bossy tone at that. This must be some sort of strange dream. It's unlikely that someone broke into his flat. Why would they in the first place. The Doctor slowly opened his eyes and adjusted to the brightness before he saw a woman with a round face standing next to him, arms crossed.
Naturally, his first instinct was to jump away from the stranger.
"How the hell did you get in?" he demanded groggily, nearly falling off the mattress.
The woman smiled. "By magic, duh," she replied.
He blinked several times, making sure he wasn't imagining her existence. "There's no such thing as magic," he growled. "Get out of my flat!"
He was sure that a homeless woman had just broken into his home, despite her presentable appearance.
"Is that really how you greet your fairy godmother?" she asked, arching a brow. "The Impossible Girl – nice to meet you."
Fantastic. A homeless lunatic broke into his home.
"Could you please just… I don't know," he grumbled pinching the bridge of his nose. "Bother somebody else."
The Impossible Girl had lost count how many times people had thought she was an escaped mental asylum patient. "I can't whether you want me to or not."
He paused for a second and climbed out of bed before reaching for his mobile phone. "I'm calling the police."
She merely smiled as it will give her the opportunity to show to him that she means business. The fairy-god-mother pulled out a strange-looking metallic device and pointed it at John's phone. "At this point, I would advise you to calm down."
The Doctor furrowed his brows when he realised that he wasn't able to get through the line. There was no signal at all. "How did… this must be some sort of dream."
"Look, to clear things up a bit, fairy godparents don't have wings or use wands, well, technically speaking, this is a wand," she explained, waving the 'wand'. "But I prefer calling it a sonic screwdriver."
John stared at the woman with wide eyes before he sat down in a chair. "I've lost it."
"You're just in shock and as your fairy godmother, I would advise you to clear your mind while I attempt to clean this pig-sty you call a flat."
He looked up. "My home isn't that messy!"
"Yeah, that's what you said to your mother back when you were a teenager in that tiny room of yours in Bishopbriggs."
The Doctor frowned. "How did you know I grew up in-"
"Fairy godmother, remember?" she pointed out. "I did my research about you."
Only a handful of people knew that information and now, she finally has his full attention. Maybe she's a stalker. He tried phoning the authorities again.
"You used to be a doctor at a university hospital and then quit to start your musical instrument business."
"Everyone knows that."
"You barely scraped a first at uni."
She was slowly getting to him. "Again, not a secret."
The Impossible Girl rolled her eyes. What does it take to get this idiot to actually believe her and stop acting like an idiot? "You cheated once during a spelling test when you were seven."
John lowered the smartphone and stared at her. "How did I cheat?"
"You justified it as 'accidental cheating' since you accidentally saw your friend's answer, who was sitting next to you."
"What was my friend's-"
"Lewis."
Ok. She might be an actual fairy godmother. No! What is he thinking?! They don't exist, but the woman in front of him seems convincing enough even though there was nothing remotely different about her compared to another human being. "Why pop into my life now?"
The Impossible Girl flashed a smile. "I don't decide that kind of thing – I was just assigned to you."
John ran a hand through his silver curls. "So how do I get rid of you?"
She was slightly taken back by his question, feeling tempted to slap the back of his head. "Until you're no longer lonely or fall in love or something like that - when I'm ready to leave you."
Bloody brilliant. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll just adopt a cat or dog."
"That's not how it works and judging by your attitude, your pet won't stand you for more than three seconds."
The Doctor shot her an icy look.
"Get rid of those attack eyebrows and help me clean up because I honestly can't work in a flat that's this untidy."
He had to believe the woman now since there was only one person who teased him by calling his eyebrows 'attack eyebrows': His mother. "What's your name again?"
"The Impossible Girl."
"Isn't there something simpler I can call you, fairy godmother?" he asked sarcastically.
She paused for a moment. "You can call me Clara."
John had a feeling that Clara would be sticking around for quite a while and he wasn't looking forward to her bossing him around.
"Once the flat's nice and tidy, we're going to clean out your fridge."
"What?!" he exclaimed. "Why?"
A light slap to the head surely would do him good. She said nothing as she strode into the tiny kitchen, opened the refrigerator and waited for him to catch up. "Frozen food," she said, pointing at the freezer and then at the bag of crisps, a loaf of bread, a pizza box (God knows how long it's been in there) and a bottle of coke. "Junk food."
"I order takeaways."
"No wonder you're a mess," she commented. "Right, if you've finally accepted your fate, shall we crack on?"
John Smith was silent for a second. "Just let me wash my face and process this because I'm almost convinced that I should check into a mental asylum."
Is this really how things work? Fairy godmother shows up one day and immediately starts bossing him around without even a proper introduction. She should have at least waited until he woke up. There were still so many questions running through his mind.
Clara had a smug look on her face. "Who's the lunatic now?"
He merely growled before entering the en-suite and shutting the door.
"This has to be the toughest case yet," she murmured to herself. "But I love a good challenge."
Little did they know, the universe had other plans in place.