makemeasong | Open post/meme overflow 💫

[ The Doctor's called her impossible girl, but he's the impossible one. It started innocently enough; they're closer than they ever have been, even closer maybe, than when he wore bowties. Her instinct to take care of him (even though he claims he doesn't need it) has kept her traveling with him, seriously considering giving up Coal Hill; she isn't aging at the right pace, it's going to get obvious soon enough, and then she'd have to make a choice. But it isn't one, not for her. Not really.

She's asked him to pick her up on days other than Wednesday. He's asked her just one more adventure before taking her back home. His hand finds a home at the small of her back more often than just when he's worried lately, he doesn't flinch when she takes his hand and only flails for a few wild seconds when she hugs him, less if he can see her coming. There's been a shift, and she thinks he senses it too. Or maybe he doesn't. It's wholly plausible the man is an idiot. Clara starts to suspect he's really that oblivious in how he treats her, that it's different, when he never once acknowledges it. There's only one way to find out, really.

The next time he picks her up, it's business as usual: Clara walks in and hangs up her leather jacket, then strides up to the console. But instead of hopping up on a safe part of the surface, she stands up on tiptoe, kisses his cheek, and then hops onto the console. ]

I'd ask if you missed me, but we both know the answer. You're in shambles without me.

[ Clara's hunch about him being oblivious is mostly correct. Mostly. There are oftentimes too many thoughts swirling in that large expansive brain of his that are simply filled up with other things that take precedence over romance or matters of the heart. Or hearts in his case.

Bowtie had never been particularly inclined to explore romance even though River was and is a complicated subject on a good day. The loss of Amy and Rory still stains his hearts more than he likes to think about it, so his newfound debate about whether or not he was a good person had been pushed to the forefront.

But now that all of that is sorted, now that he realizes that he was being far too serious for his liking, some of his brain capacity has been freed up for other things. And while there's more room, romance, feelings, still aren't really top of mind. That isn't to say he doesn't find himself staring at the door long after Clara has left, or that he doesn't notice when she's done something new to her face (it's makeup, and he's had to clarify that different doesn't mean bad) because he does.

He just isn't sure what to make of it. He doesn't want to think about what to make of the fact that his body just seems to lean instinctively towards her, or how his hand in the small of her back feels incredibly right. Love is not a mundane thing that much he had come to terms with long ago. It was more that this situation with her was...complicated. The sort of complicated he didn't like.

All the more reason then not to think about it. Bit difficult to do that when she arrives that day and kisses his cheek which would be fine if the warmth from her lips didn't linger. He's in the middle of some calculations and it takes his mind off of it, but not so much that his facial expression changes. Good thing too otherwise he would have needed a moment to rearrange it into something other than his usual grump.

Even that is hard pressed though when he sees the glimmering spark of mischief in her eyes. The corners of his lips twitch almost imperceptibly. ]

Oh you know that for a fact, do you?

Of course, I do. I'd bet good money that most times, you cheat and shortcut your way to the next time you get to see me.

[ She doesn't know if that was too much, but with the Doctor, maybe being bolder is what she needs to be. There's a risk she runs of accidentally causing him to push her away, but at this point, she would so much rather know than keep wondering. ]

Not that shortcuts are a bad thing. It's just wildly unfair that I don't get to see you whenever I want.

[ Her eyes are studying his face, wondering when the angry lines seemed to smooth away into something softer. Maybe it's only lately, that it's happened or that she's noticed. ]

Unfortunately for you I don't carry any money on me. Ever. You'll just have to stay wondering, won't you?

[ Clara knows that though. He's just trying to be clever in a way that could either earn him a chiding pout or a cheeky grin. He clicks his tongue, almost regrettably although it wouldn't fool anyone let alone someone who knew his face as well as she does.

The way she's watching him does little to help him pull his mind away from the kiss to his cheek. Clara is of course affectionate in nature, something he has grown more accustomed to over the time they've spent together; it could mean nothing more than a sign of greeting. If he's smart he should classify it as such. But, a small voice asks, what if he didn't want it to just be a kiss in greeting?

Said voice is shoved promptly away. His gaze turns back to the screen where his calculations patiently await him.

Well between the two of us you do have a job. Two if you count being my boss and in both cases I can't tell you what to do.

[ Clara lightly bites at the inside of her bottom lip as she thinks about what he's said. Though she does have a quip nearly right away. ]

Technically you can, and you try, it just doesn't work out for you.

[ She grins at him, but then goes back to thinking, and she looks down at the console, studying the different buttons, everything that she knows now about how the TARDIS operates because he's shown her. ]

What if I wanted to go down to the one job that lets me see the most stars?

[ He should have seen that one coming. It immediately garners a roll of his eyes. Despite staying firmly affixed on the calculations that begin whizzing across the screen in front of him, there's a clear glimmer of amusement in them.

What he doesn't expect however is for her to say what she says next. His hands still and a small wrinkle appears between his brow, drawing those furious eyebrows of his together. Slowly he turns to face her, the expression on his face unreadable. ]

And leave behind the education of the pudding brains to someone else?
[ People giving up their lives to travel with him is almost always never a good thing. But Clara's admission makes his hearts stutter for the briefest of moments as foolish as it is. ]

You'd miss them.

[ 'Them' being her students. 'Them' being the life that still keeps her safer than traveling with them. ]

I'm not the only teacher on Earth, you know.

[ She smiles just a little, and then holds his gaze. Clara wants him to know that she means this, that she hasn't only just come up with the idea. She thinks about him when they aren't together; she knows he does his own thing, she worries that she's asking too much. Maybe he likes Wednesdays too because he doesn't need to worry about her. If she never takes the chance then she'll never know, and if he says no, then nothing changes, does it? ]

I miss you more.

Maybe one of the only decent ones in Coal Hill.

[ The quips he's giving her back aren't meant to dissuade or give give impression that he doesn't want her to travel with him more. Rather it's his pragmatism showing. As impulsive as he can be, he doesn't want her to act so hastily – this life is his, the only one he's known for centuries and centuries. They’ve travelled together for her to understand what that looks like, but it’s still a far cry from what travelling for the rest of her life would be.

What she says however fills him again with that foolish hope. The sort that he needs to be careful with. He tries not to let it show in his voice, ever so controlled and even as it usually is. It’s his eyes though. His blue eyes that soften ever so slightly that show that her words have had an effect on him. ]

There isn’t anyone else you would miss?

Edited 2023-09-02 20:13 (UTC)

I've been thinking about this for a long time, Doctor. My lease is up on my flat at the end of this month. The school term hasn't started yet. I'm paying for a place to live that I barely sleep in anymore.

[ She doesn't want to put too much pressure on him. ]

I would probably miss the guy who makes my coffee every morning, he always puts the exact right amount of cream.

[ She gives him a smile, but her gaze is intent. ]

My dad, probably. But you wouldn't ever say no to dropping me off to see him for a bit, would you?

[ No, he wouldn't, and she knows that. ]

[ Like he can read her mind (he doesn’t, not without her express permission or in extremely dire situations), he answers. ]

You don’t need my permission to see your dad. I’d drop you off whenever you wanted to see him. After all, you're the boss.

[ The rest of what she says before that though is still being processed. His mind works incredibly fast - it’s part of the reason that he doesn’t sleep. Too much to puzzle over, too much to think about. It’s the equivalent of someone taking several shots of espresso and three or four energy drinks before they’re meant to sleep. But for some reason, the things she’s saying all take a moment to settle in.

She really has thought about this. But for how long is really only for her to know and for him to guess. ]

Well I can probably learn how much cream to put in your coffee. If a barista can do it, I can too.

[ Clara doesn't dare look too excited yet, but she does look hopeful, biting at the inside of her bottom lip. ]

So, just to be clear...that's a yes? This is you saying 'Clara you can stay?'

[ She stops just short of saying 'forever' because that's a long time for her, and enough time for him to change his mind. She wonders how many people have wanted this, and how many have wanted it because they love him. ]

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