Saw a reblog of Clara in the waitress uniform, and got inspired. 12's conversation with her in Hell Bent; instead of him leaving, he reveals the mind block didn't take, then leaps over the counter where snogging (and possible shagging) ensues. Bonus if Ashldr sees them and facepalms.
“She could be anyone, right?” Clara asks, trying to keep her tone bright and not dissolve into tears. She isn’t sure how many of her life lessons the Doctor remembers, and she’s not sure whether she’d prefer him to be indifferent to or overly concerned by her emotions. “You don’t know who you’re looking for. I mean, she could be me, for all you know.”
She glances at him then, fleetingly, but long enough to see his brow furrow, and then she looks away, busying herself with wiping down the counter with a cloth as she lets her words sink in. He doesn’t remember her, she knows it in her heart of hearts. He doesn’t have a clue who she is, or he wouldn’t have spun this whole elaborate little tale. Stupid, stupid her. This whole idea had been doomed from the start.
“There’s one thing I know about her,” the Doctor says with a chuckle, and she hates him in that instant - hates him for his levity, when she’s spent months grieving. “Just one thing.”
“Clara, look at me,” he murmurs, and the use of her name is enough to make her freeze in her task. “Clara, I know who you are. Please. Just look at me.”
She turns on the spot, her eyes filling with tears, and she meets his gaze before losing her composure and dissolving into hysterical, irate sobs. “You bastard,” she weeps, fuming at his deception and how it’s played with her emotions. “You absolute… you really had me thinking… you complete arse…”
“I’m sorry,” he ditches his guitar and circles the counter, pulling her into his arm and politely overlooking the way she smacks him in the chest and then clings to his lapels. She feels her anger ebb slightly as he embraces her, and she melts against him, still weeping from the shock. “I just… you were so strong, my Clara.”
“I cannot believe…”
“Clara, I love you,” he says, the words slipping out in a rush, and she looks up at him, blinking in consternation. “That’s the one thing I know, OK? I know that the universe can go to hell, because I love you, and I need you.”
“And you remember what I said-”
“-in the Cloisters? Of course.”
Clara kisses him then, not caring about the consequences, because he’s right. The universe can go to hell.