Rescue!

There was a sudden crash. Clara turned around; after hours of filmed exposure, she'd just about gotten rid of the instinct to cover up with her arms, too aware of what the robots wanted to do.

That was her first sight of a sunglasses-wearing Doctor walking through a now-open door. It had blended in perfectly with the wall, well enough that Clara had had no idea it was there.

Suddenly she shrieked, hurriedly remembering to cross her arms over her tits, shifting sideways a little to try and hide her pussy behind one leg. She blushed.

"Doctor!" she squeaked.

"Clara!" he said, relieved. "Found you. Traced the transmat to this floor, spent forever searching for you in Bake Off. Quickly! This isn't a safe place to be."

"You're telling me!" Clara squeaked.

She stumbled forwards, in too much of a hurry to grab any of the myriad clothes in the room; the robots were already turning, sawblade-hands bared. Squealing, and wearing only a flat pair of shoes, Clara hurried out after the Doctor.

God, she couldn't wait to get back to the TARDIS and promptly forget this ordeal ever happened.

"Ten thousand years on!" the Doctor said, walking out of the TARDIS. "Humans move on to other worlds. Daleks were defeated by a dashing, slightly less handsome Time Lord, ending their grip on Earth. No Platform 5, no robots."

Clara breathed a sigh of relief. She followed him out of the TARDIS, adjusting her clothes self-consciously but glad to be wearing them. At least she'd picked up a few fashion tips; she was certainly proud of what she had.

She'd made it all of a couple of steps out of the box before a passer-by suddenly saw her and gasped. Clara jumped.

"You look just like her!" the woman said, eyes wide. "Are they mods? Awesome ones if so."

"Wh-what?" Clara said, stumbling back as the over-eager woman approached. "Who are- what?"

"You know! The mystery woman!" the stranger said.

"I don't- huh?" Clara said. She glanced to the Doctor, baffled.

"We're, uh, not from around here," he offered.

That was one way of putting it... The strange woman nodded in comprehension, then grabbed Clara's wrist, dragging her around the corner of a building. Clara promptly yelped.

It was a billboard. It was probably advertising some futuristic product Clara had no frame of reference for, but the means of advertising was familiar. Very familiar. It was her, albeit her with every inch of her body exposed in a very familiar fashion. Her cheeks heated up.

"What-" Clara said faintly.

"You haven't heard?" the woman said. "Back when the Daleks had control of Earth they **** humans, put them through TV show scenes to keep us docile and entertained, then one day this girl popped up and no one had any idea who she was. No census data, no family, nothing. She was on one show then poof! Vanished! Weird, huh?"

Clara whimpered.

"Footage circulated for centuries after that," the woman said. "She has a weird number of lookalikes you know, but no one ever found the real her. God, everyone must have seen that video by now. All the documentaries, speculation, art, recreations... Little overexposed, but there's not much that can say it lasts thousands of years is there?"

"Th-thousands of years?" Clara squeaked. "H-how many people have seen-"

The woman shrugged. "Way too many to count. She looks good, huh?" the woman dropped her voice. "You know, some real fringe people out there reckon she's a time traveller. Only explanation. Crazy right?"

"Y-yeah," Clara said, blushing.

"Bet she must be flattered," the woman said. "How many people can say they're going to be famous forever?"