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Bookstore Girl

Summary:

Just as Doctor John Smith’s life is beginning to spiral out of control, he discovers a beautiful bookstore, and the even more beautiful girl working there

 

If you're here from the Thasmin tag its mostly just chapter 14
Yah I’m sorry I’m never gonna finish this

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text

“The person, be it a gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid”
Clara read the quote painted on the wall for what must have been the thousandth time that day. The ticking clock behind her echoed the dripping of rain from the awning above the window, looking onto the street outside. Customers were few and far between, giving the bookshop a peaceful, if somewhat boring atmosphere.

“Timeless
Second Hand Book Store”
The fading sign outside was beginning to look miserable in the rain, the paint flaking away after years of abuse from the elements and the shop owner not having the time or energy to have it repainted or replaced. The bookstore was well hidden, the blue door set back a little from the street, the shop window was easy to confuse as being an extension of the gift shop next door. It was a place you could easily walk past a hundred thousand times and never even notice, so new customers were rare, most of them had been introduced to the shop by other regulars . For Clara discovering it was like magic. The shop was warm and welcoming, what had started out as a place to hide from the rain, or to look for old copies of her favourite books had turned into a home away from home. Clara worked there while Angie and Artie were at school, giving her a bit of extra money for her future travels. She could spend hours reading whatever she wanted, or scowering the old pages for notes left by previous authors, which she occasionally added to, loving the feeling of her own thoughts on the book influencing a future reader. Books told more stories than just those they had been written about. They would arrive at the store, full of dust and coffee stains and the occasional tear stained page and they told the stories of ordinary people, reading extraordinary tales, becoming so absorbed they cried over the sad parts, so engrossed they couldn’t put it down even when sipping coffee. The more cracked the spine, the more the owner must have loved the book, and Clara thought it was beautiful. She traced her fingers along the spine of the book she had just finished, now sitting on the front desk by the till.
“Your last owners must have loved you, huh?” She mumbled. “I wonder why they let you end up here”
“And I wonder why you’re caressing a book”
Clara jumped, brought out of her reverie by Nina, who had walked up behind her, apparently repeatedly walking into things to get Clara’s attention.
“Earth to Clara?” She said, tapping her on the shoulder.
Clara put the book down, rolling her eyes.
“Because the book has a story to tell”
Nina raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, The Great Gatsby. Every book has a story to tell, that’s kind of the point of books”
“Apart from notebooks. And sketchbooks. And anyway, you wouldn’t get it, you only got a job here to hang out with me”
“And yet you spend all your time here reading and talking to books”
“I’m talking to you right now, so your point is invalid”
Nina groaned.
“I’m going Starbucks do you want anything?” She said, having clearly given up on the argument.
“Tea please”
The bell on the door rang as Nina stepped out into the pouring rain.
“You’re my favourite human” they both said, grinning.

The bell rang, punctuated by a groan from Nina as came back inside, drinks in hand.
“Got you a cookie too”
Clara picked up the drink that Nina had put on the table in front of her.
“You’re the best, you know that right?”
Nina ‘clinked’ her Starbucks cup against Clara’s.
“Of course I’m the best”
“Now give me the cookie”

Clara shelved some more books from the pile of donation boxes they kept in the basement, taking time to admire the cover art, the old book smell and of course to read the first page. Nina had finished her shift, after forcing Clara to promise that they would hang out outside of work some time. She laughed to herself, wondering what she would to without Nina. Spend all her time hanging out with kids and books and never actually going anywhere, clearly. Somewhere behind her, the bell rang and she was hit with the draught. A young man fell into the store, stumbling over the doorstep.

 

‘St Thomas Hospital, Doctor John Smith”
John closed his hand tighter around the ID card that had been bouncing against his chest as he hurried down the corridor, as he did whenever he was thinking. He barely noticed he was doing it, fumbling with the clip that held the tag onto the lanyard, flicking it so that it clicked open and closed matching his footsteps. He was exhausted, having picked up more extra shifts than he could handle. A clattering noise made him stop, confused. His badge was lying on the floor in front of him. He picked it up with a sigh and headed into his first meeting with the team who worked the night shift, mentally preparing himself for the day. Working on the children’s ward used to be fulfilling, it was a job he had wanted his whole life, and finally making it had been his greatest achievement. Well, becoming a paediatrician and successfully negotiating with a monkey to give back his wallet on his gap year in Bali. He shook his head. Becoming a doctor had been difficult, and so worth the effort. He groaned. It was worth the effort. It was worth it. There was no “but”. He wouldn’t let himself think of the reasons why it wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t, not even for a moment, let himself think that it wasn’t everything he had ever wanted. Instead he took on more and more shifts, throwing himself into his work with all his energy, so that he didn’t have time to think about the bad things.
He picked up a chart on the end of the next patient’s bed, reading it carefully. Concentrate on the rounds, smile, be friendly, don’t think too much. It’s not too hard.

With the rounds completed, John was desperate for some coffee. On his way to the staff room, one of the orderlies tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump.
“What do you want Strax?” He snapped.
Strax took a step back. “Apologies for scaring you Doctor,” he said, holding up his hands in defence, “but Doctor Vastra wants to speak to you”.
“Why?”
“She didn’t say. It’s urgent though”
John rubbed his forehead, straightened his bow tie, and headed towards Vastra’s office, deciding his coffee could wait.

The door opened before he had even had the chance to knock, revealing Vastra, staring at him with her serious face. The one he was unwilling to admit scared him a little.
“Strax found you then”
“Snuck up behind me and everything”
“A very Strax way to do things”
“Why exactly?”
She inhaled sharply. “Listen, Doctor, there’s no easy way to put this. With everything going on with you, you’re too apathetic, you’re irritable, the kids can tell you are pretending to be ok when you talk to them, but they can also tell that you aren’t. It’s scary, and it’s really unhealthy. You’ve barely taken any time off, since, well, you started here, and nothing in the past year. You aren’t the man we hired. Go home, Martha said she’ll cover your shift this afternoon, and take off some of the time we owe you from all these extra shifts”
John shook his head. He loathed the idea of being at home, of taking the time off. Vastra put her hand on his.
“You’ve had a bad year, you need this. If you won’t do this for yourself, do it for the kids. You’ll be much more comforting to have as a doctor when you are well rested. Stay off for a month, and see how you are then”
“You’re joking right? Why would you take this away from me? This job is all I’ve got left, I can’t survive a month without it. I’ll do better, I’ll take less shifts, please”
Vastra sighed. “You just need to sign a couple of things, then go home. Accept it, you need this break more than you need to work to the point of collapse every day”

John replayed the conversation over and over in his head for hours as he stared into his rapidly cooling coffee at Starbucks. The rain was finally slowing, and he decided it was worth braving the walk to the train home. He immediately regretted this decision. As he trudged down the street, hands in pockets and head down, the rain picked up again, worse than it had been all day, rapidly soaking into the tweed jacket, freezing him to the bone. He fought the urge to yell at the sky, and at the puddles seeping into his shoes, and at Vastra, who wasn’t there, because unlike him, she was at work. Instead he found somewhere to hide from the rain drumming against his back, a doorway, sheltered by an arch and the blue awning above it. He leaned against the door, finally glad of the shelter, when the door swung open and he was falling. He tried to find his balance, immediately tripping over the doorstep, and rapidly giving up, allowing himself to sink to the floor.