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The ski gear was no where to be found.
It wasn't in the wardrobe. Wasn't in the control room. Wasn't in her closet.
Quite frankly, Clara was more than fed up with the stupid ship.
"You know, your pilot's the one who sent me to get the stuff," She complained aloud, "So it'd make sense to show me where it is."
And then the lights shut off.
She promptly tripped over her shoe, barely managing to catch herself. "Dirty... cow!" She pushed herself up, grumbling some more while she was at it. Light happened to be mandatory when doing a scavenger hunt for ski gear with a grumpy machine hiding it, so she felt along the walls until she came across a doorknob, turning it and pushing in.
She felt alond the wall when she entered, fingers recognizing the shape of a light switch in the dark. She flipped it, then squinted at the invasion of light.
"Ow," She muttered. She blinked a couple of times to adjust to the light, surveying the room she entered.
The walls were a beautiful blue-not TARDIS blue, lighter, but still beautiful. There was plush carpetting, and a couple of 'windows' to the side with curtains pulled over them.
However, none of those things made her gasp aloud.
What did it was the cot sitting on a mahagony table, the mobile over it, the diaper changing table, the toys neatly stacked in bins, as if someone had began packing them but never finished. There was a rocking chair in the corner, and clothes-tiny things- hanging in the open closet.
Her eyes widened as she looked closer at the cot. It wasn't just a cot. It had Galifreyan on it. Which meant that either the people who had a baby were using a cot found on the TARDIS and had decided it could live with them on the ship (unlikely), or that the Doctor had gotten that cot out and had the TARDIS create a room for a baby. He did. With the mind that it'd be staying for a while. Which meant....
She shook her head, pushing the thoughts to the side until she could ask the Doctor. There had to be an explanation.
**********
"I found the skiing gear!" The Doctor announced cheerfully as she entered the control room. He pointed to a pile by the TARDIS doors. "Well, she did, actually. Was nice enough to just put them in here. That's my Old Girl." He patted the console affectionately, and she rolled her eyes. Why was she even surprised, at this point?
"Ready to go?" He asked, glancing at her as he typed in coordinates.
"Uh, no, actually," She said, getting her nerve up. It probably wasn't a big deal anyway, she told herself. It's just a nursery. There were a lot of rooms on the ship. It wasn't that surprising.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," She blurted a little too quickly, before regaining composure, "I just stumbled across this.. room, in the TARDIS."
"Yeah? Which one?"
"Well, it was a.. I think it was a nursery. Painted blue."
She watched as the care-free expression he had a moment ago died, replaced by one that locks up everything, is on guard.
"It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Just.. something from the past." He paused a moment, turning back to the console. "You might want to go home. You have been on here a while, you have things to do, people to see, yeah?"
"No, I don't." She replied curtly, mulling over his previous words. "Doctor.." She hesitated. "do you have children?"
He glanced at her, nodding slowly, then returned his gaze to the screen. "One. A daughter."
She was, admittedly, surprised. "Really? You have a daughter?What's her name? How old is she?"
"Um..." He scratched his head, looking uncomfortable. "Brooke. And she's thirty, I believe."
"Thirty? You have a thirty year old daughter you've never mentioned? Seriously?" She crossed her arms across her chest. "Why?"
"Well," He makes a big show of typing more things into the screen, flipping a couple levers, "I prefer to keep my life with her seperate from the days you're here. Besides, she's got her own method of travelling. Likes the freedom by herself, I suppose. Does go with her mother sometimes, but, you know. I do see her at least once every couple of days."
"Her mother?" She couldn't help but wonder.. "Was she a surprise or something? Did you go to visit and a baby was there?"
His expression was hilarious, and she couldn't help but snicker at it.
"No! What kind of man do you think I am? Honestly, Clara!"
"Fine, fine." She raised her hands in mock surrender. "Just wondering. So who's her mom? Have I met her?"
"Um, yeah." He scratched the back of his head. "You remember my wife?"
"What, River Song?" She probably sounded blunt. It wasn't that great to reference a dead loved one like that, but there wasn't really another way to put it.
"Yeah."
"Oh." She glanced down at her shoes. "I'm sorry. But you managed, without her?"
"What? Oh, no. Definitely not." At her look, he continues, "She got out. While back, actually. Not that long after Trenzalore."
She gaped at him. "You could inform me of these things! Really!"
He shrugged. "Never came up."
"Never-" She sighed, exasperated. "Seriously? I thought your wife was dead and you just travelled alone, all lonely and mopey while I wasn't here. And it just now comes up that you don't. Come on, Doctor."
"Is it really that big of a deal?"
She just rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever. But what about the nursery? If she's all grown up, why do you still have her nursery?"
The expression that came over his face when she mentioned the first time returned, with more intensity than before. "Clara.. I really don't want to talk about it."
A sort of understanding-how she could tell by the look he gave her he'll never know-crossed her face. Sadness. Acceptance.
"Oh. I'm- I'm sorry, Doctor." There weren't any other words to say, and she knew it.
"Yeah." He inhales slowly. "Why don't I take you home? Maybe next time I'll let you meet Brooke."
She smiles softly at him, patting his shoulder. "Oh, definitely. Can't wait."