Well that was perhaps a slight over-reaction to being asked the year, but Clara wrote off the sharpness easily as surprise. People didn't often ask that, did they? And if someone was from 2015, it was entirely likely that they weren't thinking about time travel as a realistic possibility on a daily basis. She didn't think too long about it, nor about the way he'd looked at her for a moment.
No, instead, she went back to thinking about possible stories to tell. No to Zygons—it was sort of compromising to a lot of personal information and national secrets and all that, and it felt quite against disrection. For similar reasons, almost anything involving the Black Archive was out. If a place made such frequent use of memory wipes, Clara figured they didn't want to be chatted about idly. (She had, for a moment, a passing fancy that maybe if she did start spilling Top Secret sorts of secrets, Kate Lethbridge-Stewart would swoop in to stop her and thus solve this whole trapped in an apocalyptic army camp debacle.)
"I once ended up in a research base at the bottom of a lake. Which was infested by ghosts." With the dramatic pause. Always with the dramatic pause.