Deep Breath
Jenny Flint: I don’t understand. Who is he? Where’s the Doctor?
Clara: Right here. That’s him. That’s the Doctor.
Madame Vastra: Well then. Here we go again.
Clara: How do we change him back?
Madame Vastra: Jenny. I will be in my chamber. Would you be kind enough to fetch my veil?
Jenny: Why? Are we expecting strangers?
Madame Vastra: It would seem there’s already one here.
Clara: What have I done wrong?
Clara: You said renewed. He doesn’t look renewed. He looks… older.
Madame Vastra: You thought he was young?
Clara: He looked young.
Madame Vastra: He looked like your dashing young gentleman friend. Your lover even.
Clara: Shut up.
Madame Vastra: But he is the Doctor. He has walked this universe for centuries untold. He has seen stars fall to dust. You might as well flirt with a mountain range.
Clara: I did not flirt with him.
Madame Vastra: He flirted with you.
Clara: How?
Madame Vastra: He looked young. Who do you think that was for?
Clara: Me?
Madame Vastra: Everyone.
Madame Vastra: I wear a veil as he wore a face.
Clara: For what reason?
Madame Vastra: The oldest reason there is for anything: to be accepted.
Clara: Are you judging me?
Madame Vastra: The Doctor regenerated in your presence. The young man disappeared, the veil lifted. He trusted you. Are you judging him?
Clara: How dare you. How dare you.
Clara: Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor. Last one of the five good and stoic philosopher.
Madame Vastra: Superlative bass guitarist. The Doctor really knows how to put a band together.
Clara: And the only pin-up I ever had on my wall when I was fifteen. The only one I ever had. I am not sure who you think you’re talking to right now, Madame Vastra, but I have never had the slightest interest in pretty young men. And for the record if there was anybody who could flirt with a mountain range she’s probably standing in front of you right now! Just because my pretty face has turned your head do not assume I am so easily distracted.
Madame Vastra: The Doctor needs us. You more than anyone. He is lost in the world of himself and you must bring him home.
Clara: When did you stop wearing your veil?
Madame Vastra: When you stopped seeing it.
Strax: Ah! Miss Clara. You look better now you’re up.
Clara: Thank you Strax.
Strax: Oh. Sorry. Trick of the light. You still look terrible.
Strax: Now that’s interesting.
Clara: What? What’s interesting?
Strax: Deflected narcissism. traces of passive aggressive. And… lots of muscular young men doing sport.
Clara: What are you looking at?
Strax: Your subconscious.
Madame Vastra: Clara! Excellent. Pop your clothes on that chair then.
Clara: Look.
Madame Vastra: Advertisements. Yes. So many. It’s a distressing modern trend.
Clara: No. Look. {Impossible Girl}
Madame Vastra: The game is afoot. We’re going to need a lot of tea.
Madame Vastra: Perhaps you’re supposed to prove that you still know him. Think what that means for a man that barely knows himself.
Clara: That doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t do puzzles. He isn’t complicated. He really doesn’t have the attention span.
The Doctor: What’s wrong?
Clara: I don’t know, maybe the smell.
The Doctor: I know. It’s everywhere.
The Doctor: Are you cross with me?
Clara: I am not cross. But if I was cross it would be your fault. And yes I am cross.
The Doctor: I guessed that.
Clara: I am extremely cross.
The Doctor: And if I hadn’t changed my face would you be cross?
Clara: I would be cross if I wasn’t cross.
Clara: So what kind of person would put a cryptic note in a newspaper advert?
The Doctor: Well I would like to say—
Clara: Oh go on, do say.
The Doctor: Well I would say that that person would be an egomaniac needy game player sort of person.
Clara: Thank you. Hm. Well at least that hasn’t changed.
The Doctor: I don’t suppose it ever will.
Clara: No, I don’t suppose it will either.
The Doctor: Clara, honestly. I don’t want you to change. It was no bother, really. I saw your advert, figured it out. Happy to play your game.
Clara: No. I didn’t place the ad, you placed the ad.
The Doctor: Well if neither of us placed that ad, who placed that ad?
Clara: Hang on. Egomaniac needy game player?
The Doctor: This could be a trap.
Clara: That was me?
The Doctor: Never mind that.
Clara: Yes, I am minding that.
The Doctor: Clara—
Clara: You were talking about me.
The Doctor: Clara. What is happening right now, in this restaurant to you and me, is more important than your egomania.
Clara: Nothing is more important than my egomania!
The Doctor: Right. You actually said that.
Clara: You never mention that again!
The Doctor: There’s something extremely wrong with everybody else sitting in this room.
Clara: Basically don’t you always think that?
Clara: Anything we can do?
The Doctor: How long can you hold your breath?
Clara: What are they?
The Doctor: I don’t know. But don’t worry because that’s not the question. The question is, what is this restaurant?
Clara: Okay. What is this restaurant?
The Doctor: I don’t know.
The Doctor: You’ve got to admire their efficiency.
Clara: Is it okay if I don’t?
The Doctor: Hello. Hello! Are you the manager? I demand to speak to the manager!
Clara: It’s not a real restaurant, is it?
The Doctor: Well. It’s more a sort of a automated open collection station for the unwary diner. Serving tart without the pies.
Clara: So where are we now?
The Doctor: Factually, an ancient spaceship probably here for centuries. Functionally, a larder.
Clara about the screwdriver: You should make that thing voice-activated. {nothing} Oh for God’s sake it is, isn’t it.
The Doctor: I don’t want to talk about it.
The Doctor: Dormant.
Clara: How’d you know?
The Doctor: I don’t. I’m just hoping.
The Doctor: Droids harvesting spare parts. Really rings a bell.
The Doctor: Look at the hands.
Clara: What about them?
The Doctor: Look at them.
Clara: Looking!
The Doctor: They don’t match. These hands don’t belong to the same body.
Clara: I don’t understand.
The Doctor: Well I don’t blame you. See this, this is not your normal cyborg. This is not a man turning himself into a robot. This is a robot turning himself into a man, piece by piece.
Clara: Is it awake?
The Doctor: It’s waking up. I think.
The Doctor: Sorry, too slow. There’s no point in him catching us both.
Clara: Well give me the screwdriver.
The Doctor: I might need it. {he leaves her}
Clara: Never start with your final sanction. You’ve got nowhere to go but backwards.
Half-Face Man: We will not negotiate.
Clara: You don’t have a choice. I’ll tell you what. I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.
Half-Face Man: We will not answer questions.
Clara: We’ll take turns. I’ll go first. Why’d you kill the dinosaur?
Half-Face Man: We will not answer questions!
Clara: Why’d you kill the dinosaur?!
Half-Face Man: We will not answer questions!
Clara: Then you might as well kill me, ‘cuz I’m not talking again until you do.
Clara: How long have you been rebuilding yourselves? Look at the state of you. Is there any real you left? What’s the point?
Half-Face Man: We will reach the Promised Land.
Clara: The Promised Land, what’s that?
Half-Face Man: Where is the other one?
Clara: I don’t know. But I know where he will be. Where he will always be. If the Doctor is still the Doctor, he will have my back.
Half-Face Man: Why are you here?
The Doctor: Why did you invite us? The message in the paper, that was you wasn’t it? {nothing} Oh. I hate being wrong in public. Everybody forget that happened. Clara, say the word.
Clara: What word?
The Doctor: They’d never send you in here without a word.
Clara: I don’t want to say it.
The Doctor: I’ve guessed it already.
Both: Geronimo.
Madame Vastra: The establishment upstairs has been disabled with maximum prejudice and the authorities summoned.
Clara: Hang on, she called the police. We never do that. We should start.
Clara: Got a vacancy?
Madame Vastra: You would be very welcome to join our little household. But I have it on the highest authority that the Doctor will be returning for you very soon.
Clara: Who’s authority?
Madame Vastra: The person who knows him best throughout the universe.
Clara: And who is that?
Madame Vastra: Miss Clara Oswald.
Clara: I don’t think I know who the Doctor is anymore.
Madame Vastra: It would seem my dear you’re very wrong about that. Clara! Give him hell. He’ll always need it.
Clara: You’ve redecorated.
The Doctor: Yes.
Clara: I don’t like it.
The Doctor: I’m not entirely convinced myself. I think there should be more round things on the walls. I used to have a lot of round things. I wonder where I put them.
The Doctor: Clara, I’m not your boyfriend.
Clara: I never thought you were.
The Doctor: I never said it was your mistake.
Clara: Who put that advert in the paper?
The Doctor: Who gave you that number? A long time ago, remember. You were given the number of a computer help line and you ended up phoning the TARDIS. Who gave you that number?
Clara: The woman. The woman in the shop.
The Doctor: Then there’s a woman out there who’s very keen that we stay together. How do you feel on the subject?
Clara: I’m home.
The Doctor: If you want to be.
Clara: I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. But I don’t think I know who you are anymore.
The Doctor: Better get that. Might be your boyfriend.
Clara: Shut up. I don’t have a boyfriend.
The Eleventh Doctor: It’s me. It’s me, Clara. The Doctor.
Clara: What do you mean, the Doctor?
The Eleventh Doctor: I’m phoning you from Trenzalore. Just before I changed. I mean it’s all still to happen for me but it’s coming. Oh, it’s coming. Not long now.
The Doctor: So who is it?
The Eleventh Doctor: Is that the Doctor?
The Doctor: Is that the Doctor?
Clara: Yes.
The Eleventh Doctor: He sounds old. Please tell me I didn’t get old. Anything but old. I was young. Is he grey?
Clara: Yes.
The Eleventh Doctor: Clara, please. Hey, for me. Help him. Go on. And don’t be afraid. Goodbye, Clara. Miss ya.
The Doctor: Well?
Clara: Well what?
The Doctor: He asked you a question. Will you help me?
Clara: You shouldn’t have been listening.
The Doctor: I wasn’t, I didn’t need to. That was me talking. You can’t see me, can you? You look at me and you can’t see. Do you have any idea what that’s like? I’m not on the phone, I’m right here. Standing in front of you. Please just… just see me.
Clara: Thank you.
The Doctor: For what?
Clara: Phoning. {she hugs him}
The Doctor: I don’t think that I’m a hugging person now.
Clara: I’m not sure you get a vote.
The Doctor: Whatever you say.
Clara: This isn’t my home by the way.
Clara: Where are we?
The Doctor: Glasgow, I think. Ah. You’ll fit right in. Scottish.
The Doctor: I don’t have any money.
Clara: You’ll fetch it then.
The Doctor: I’m not sure that I’m the fetching sort.
Clara: Yeah. Still not sure you get a vote.