Open post/meme overflow 💫

[makemeasong]

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cross canon, assumed cr, and ocs welcome. Please check out Clara's permissions post for more info.

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[twelfthsong]

God help us all when you do.

[He stays there until she drifts back to sleep, waiting until her breath evens out and her heart beats slow. He brushes back some hair before carefully extracting himself out of the bed, gathering the mugs and heading back downstairs.

The wandering part of him is tempted to explore the area, but he doesn't venture further than the garden taking note of the plants that have taken root there since they had last been there. The last thing the Doctor wanted was for Clara to wake up and not see him there. Regeneration was disorienting process at the best of times and he didn't necessarily fancy a run around the planet looking for his wife - although actually, the thought was rather funny for him to be on the receiving end of.

Instead he spends the rest of his time pouring through the books in the living room, reading for just the sake of reading. He's stirred mid-sentence from her call and he takes the stairs several at a time to run to the bedroom in time to see her like a bit of a new fawn.]

Your hips were always like that, you're probably just seeing them for the first time. How are the lungs? Kidneys? Liver?

[makemeasong]

[ Taking a deep breath, she holds it as she pokes and prods at her stomach before exhaling. ]

All good, except the left kidney is two millimeters smaller than the right and...

[ With both hands she cups her chest then frowns. ] Smaller. You'll have to decide if you're still happy with taste and everything else you like.

[ Running to the mirror she sticks out her tongue to look at it before spinning around to look at him. ]

Curry. Curry and pickles, please. [ There's the weird cravings. ]

[twelfthsong]

The taste of what? You? I'll be happy no matter how you taste or where you kidneys are placed.

[It's a small nod to her earlier comment about her loving his face no matter what he looked like.]

Curry and pickles? [He raises a brow, an amused light in his eyes.] Can't be any worse than fish fingers and custard. But whatever the missus wants.

[makemeasong]

Running her finger over her teeth she hums. First, tell me if I kiss the same.

[ Before giving him much of a chance to reply, Clara pulls his face into her hands to kiss him thoroughly, giving it her best go before pulling back with a flourish, grinning at him. ]

Well?

[twelfthsong]

[Before he knows it her lips are on his again, and he can't help but chuckle after a brief sound of muffled surprise. There's no other course of action but to oblige her and kiss her right back.]

Still the same. And you still taste like magic. [He runs his tongue briefly over his lips.] With maybe a hint more citrus.

[makemeasong]

[ Clara smiles serenely at him before tugging at his hand. ] Feed me, please.

[ She decides to keep his sweatshirt on, pantsless, because why bother when it hangs down on her because he's so much taller? ]

Brownies! Brownies, too.

[twelfthsong]

[He smiles lovingly down at her before leading her by the hand down the stairs.]

Do you want me to start on the curry and pickles first? I do only have 2 hands you know.

[makemeasong]

I'll help you. Maybe. Do I know how to make any of that?

[ She can't remember. ] Wait, do I like pickles? We'll find out.

[twelfthsong]

You might hate cooking and baking now but we'll never know until we try.

[They reach the kitchen and he grabs her apron for her, placing it over her neck and tying it for her before getting his own.

Somehow, magically, there are things in the pantry for curry and brownies and there are a jar of pickles in the fridge.]

Did you want to try the pickles on their own first?

[makemeasong]

Good idea. [ She smiles when he puts the apron over her head and she presses a kiss to his cheek before letting him go to get the pickles. ]

[ She begins poking through cabinets and pulls out a few ingredients before making another declaration. ] Wine. We need wine. And music. Oh, is this a date?

[ Clara grins at him. ] It's been a long time since we did that.

[twelfthsong]

Is that a demand instead of a request I'm hearing? [He's asking it teasingly but goes to the wine fridge, extracting a bottle. As soon as he reads the label he recognizes it from a winery they had visited in 1800's Italy.]

We could make it a date, even if you are a little underdressed. Are you going to be able to hold out before the food is even done?

[He's found the rest of the curry ingredients and starts chopping and pulling out various pots and pans.]

[makemeasong]

Hold out for what? The after part of the date which is my favorite? Or the wine?

[ She's being cheeky, but, well, have to break in the new body sometime. ]

I could go put on fancy dress for you. Or, I think I remember there are lacy things in a drawer upstairs.

[ She gets out the pickles but she's still too weak to get the jar open when she tries and wordlessly offers it to her husband for help. ]

[twelfthsong]

The food, you insatiable, one track minded woman.

[He says it laughing though as he dumps the first lot of vegetables into the stock pot just in time to see the offered pickle jar. He's able to open it no problem and hands it back to her. The mention of lacy things bring a light pink to his cheeks but he takes the silly side as he always does.]

If you have lacy things there are probably ridiculous things up there too.

[makemeasong]

Do you know how much time we have to make up for? Gonna give your hearts a workout later.

[ She grins saucily at him, then takes a bite of a pickle and wrinkle her nose, shaking her head and managing to swallow, but she keeps shaking her head, offended. ]

No. No to these, get them out.

[ She's so mad at the pickles. ] All the silly stuff upstairs is yours, dear.

[ Clara is really getting back into being his wife, knowing she can tease and be close and it's fine because he's hers. Instead of helping, she hops up on the counter beside him, all long legs under his sweatshirt. ]

Remember that multicolored scarf you had? Silly.

[twelfthsong]

[He doesn't so much respond as he does snort. They're married. They just had sex several hours ago. But it still hasn't changed his response to her teasing even though he's fully aware that she means every single word.

At her disgust he motions for the jar of pickles and promptly screws the lid back on mentally noting not to buy pickles in their future grocery shops.]

Silly and impractical. I'm surprise I didn't step on it more. Never making that mistake again.

[makemeasong]

[ Clara's always been the more vocal between them about enjoying all the pleasures she was supposed to be above as a species. She has no shame about liking what her body can do and what it can do to his in return. ]

I like your style this time around. Very casual and comfortable. More clothes I can borrow.

[ She's supposed to be helping him but instead she's looking at him like he's dinner. But she does try to behave and begins working on the brownies as promised, sliding off the counter. She moves around him and with him in the kitchen like no time has passed at all, stopping every now and then to kiss his shoulder. ]

[twelfthsong]

Note to self: when shopping for future clothes make sure that my wife can wear them and likes them too.

[All of the ingredients are in the pot now for the curry completely making him miss the way she's looking at him. But then again, he can feel it. Clara had always been tactile even before either of them had remembered their origin stories and he hadn't minded after a while. He didn't mind it now. But he was also trying to make sure their cabin didn't burn down because they had neglected the food they were making.

They pass the time in comfortable silence and when the curry is simmering he casts a glance at her.]

This should be done soon. How are the brownies coming along? Remembering the recipe?

[makemeasong]

I remember. [ She smiles and hands him the spoon after pouring the batter into a square baking dish. ] Then again, you're the judge.

[ The recipe is a good, chocolatey one, and she puts the brownies in the oven. Then, she's struck by a memory that makes her features soften as she turns back to the Doctor. ]

The curry smells perfect. Do you remember it's the only thing I wanted the entire time I was pregnant with Calliope?

[twelfthsong]

I remember. [He echos back, savouring the phrase that is quickly becoming a comfort to him especially after everything they've been through together. Even if this remembrance has undertones of sadness, there's a sweetness to it because it was time they had together. It was theirs. And they're able to at least share that together again.]

Everything in the house smelled like it. People had wondered if we had started a curry shop.

[makemeasong]

[ Clara can't help but laugh as she begins to clean up her dessert mess. ]

We could've opened one, honestly. That's how good I remember it being. [ She smiles at him over her shoulder. ] You've always taken good care of me.

[twelfthsong]

I've always had a duty of care. What kind of husband would I be otherwise?

[He meets her gaze with a smile of his own.

The curry is done several minutes later and he ushers Clara to the table while he sets and serves everything.]

How are the first couple of bites? Just like you remember?

[makemeasong]

[ The curry is one of the first things he ever made for her and the first bite makes her want to cry in absolute happiness. But she doesn't because she takes another bite, then another before answering. ]

Better. It's perfect, Doctor. Never lost your touch, it seems. Why didn't you ever cook on the TARDIS?

[ Not that he had an obligation to even if he had known who she was, but he's much better at it than she thought before she had her memories returned. ]

[twelfthsong]

[The Doctor hasn't even dug into his own curry; he's too busy watching Clara get reacquainted with her own taste buds.]

I have to say it's a relief that you didn't just spit it right back out.

[After ensuring that she's still happy with what she's got in front of her, he digs into his own curry.]

Sometimes it was easier not to. That and it's harder to cook for one.

[makemeasong]

[ She scoffs. ] You could've cooked for me, I would've sat down to a meal with you.

[ Taking a sip of wine she closes her eyes and remembers more firsts between them before smiling to herself. ] I always liked cooking with you. Well, I liked distracting you and eating the fruits of your labor.

[ Might as well be honest. There's something about him confidently moving around the kitchen - though he does most things with confidence. ]

[twelfthsong]

Ah but you were always running off for dates with mysterious datees. I couldn't supply the meal but I could at least plan a much better date than they could.

[His first couple of bites of the curry though, he must say, are pretty great and the pride and delight shows in his eyes as the spice and flavours hit his palette.]

We could do more of it. Me doing the cooking and you doing the distracting that is.