makemeasong | Open post/meme overflow 💫

You make me brave.

[ Her voice cracks just a little, and there's that overwhelming need to bury herself in his arms again. So she does, taking a deep breath, filling herself up with him before getting a grip on her emotions, stepping back and looking up at him. ]

Go make me a ring. I'm going to shower.

[ She stands up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, lingering. ]

[He hugs her back fiercely, pressing a kiss to the top of her head feeling like he isn't worthy of that type of accolade even after all this time. Foolishness and impulsivity have always been a defining characteristic for him, perhaps even more so with this face, and he knows how influencing that behaviour can be. It's why he and Clara clicked so well; they fed off that energy in the way an adrenaline junkie did. He knew it could be dangerous. It had been dangerous.

But he vowed even after all this time that he wouldn't let it get that far again. He'd be better. He'd be more careful so that they could spend as much time together as possible.

A laugh rumbles in his throat before stepping away slightly.]

I can't make you a ring if you keep kissing me.

Alright, alright.

[ She laughs softly and kisses his hand one more time for good measure before forcing herself away.

The first shower after regenerating always feels good, and she lingers, using the soap she finds that smells like him. Wrapping a towel around herself, she helps herself to the room he uses when he sleeps. She's never been inside before and she pads to his wardrobe, rifling through it. Finding another one of his items of clothing, she slips it on - just a heather grey t-shirt this time - and a pair of his boxers.

Barefoot, she makes her way to where she knows he does most of his work. ]

How's it going in here? Throw anything yet?

[His gaze lingers on her form as she disappears into the TARDIS but he immediately turns on his heel towards his workbench. He has a ring to make.

It isn't difficult but it isn't easy either; it's been a while since he's made something as dainty as jewelry and he's used to making things that are more function than fashion despite his appearances. The Doctor knows that Clara said it doesn't have to be flashy but he still wants it to look good.

By the time Clara makes it back to him he's intently pulling together the dust into a contained casing. He wants fluidity to it, for the stardust to shine and dance like it does in space, but it still needs to be encased in something.]

Hard to throw stardust when it's already prone to floating away. [He casts a brief glance towards her.] How was the shower?

Best one I've ever taken. And your clothes continue to be comfortable.

[ She smiles softly at him and sits herself down beside his work table so she can be close to him. ]

I assumed it was okay to go in your room now without asking.

[He makes room for her beside him and he flips his goggles back onto his eyes as he continues his work.

He pours the stardust, mixing it into the casing where the molten metal already sits. It's only once it settles and begins to move, fluid just like he wanted it to, does he speak teasingly.]

Would you be my wife if you didn't? Find any skeletons in the closet?

Edited 2022-08-20 17:52 (UTC)

Clara's been watching intently, then smiles just a little, looking up at him.

[ Nothing that concerns me. Some questionable taste in there, though. She's teasing right back, but her voice gentles. ]

You kept yourself so alone, what would there have been to hide that I don't already know?

Questionable taste? Like what? [His head snaps back to her before looking back at his workbench.] Actually don't answer that. There are plenty of questionable things in there from past lives.

[He pulls out a small collection of precious stones, laid out on navy blue velvet. The Doctor picks one out - a stormy blue, almost black that seems to pulse every so often with a honeyed glow from deep within it. Deciding he likes it best he starts to work with it, shaping it into a bit of an octagon shape to keep it sturdy.]

Just checking. I know how curious you are.

I think the real skeletons are going to be in random rooms.

[ There's levity in her voice, but an undercurrent of seriousness as well. He's lived a very long life without her, and she expects it. ]

You never wanted to talk about any of your companions before. I sort of suspect there will be things you can already think of that you'd rather I not see.

[He looks up from his work only momentarily to meet her gaze hearing the seriousness to it. It would be easy for Clara to see from that look that her assumption is right and he looks away again after a minute.]

There might be some that come to mind. [He pauses.] Did you want to talk about them again?

Only one right now.

[ Clara looks at him, watching him as he works. When she speaks again her voice is soft. ]

When you were regenerating, you were talking to someone who wasn't there. Amelia Pond. The girl who waited, you said. What happened to her?

[The tool he's working with screeches against the stone for a second and he quickly kills it. The Doctor makes a point not to look at Clara. Amy had been the first face his eleventh one had seen. It had left an impression. A lasting one that still weighed heavy on him to this day.]

Amy...[He sighs, but at least when he speaks, there's a tenderness to it.] She and her husband Rory were friends of mine. Dear friends. We had all sorts of adventures, similar to the ones we had. They were River's parents. [He opens to mouth to say more but then stops.] What else did you want to know?

[ Their lives are timey-wimey, so the reveal about River's parentage doesn't surprise her. ]

What happened? When we first met - or when I thought we first met - you had this sadness that just...it never really went away.

[He doesn't remember the last time he spoke about Amy and Rory. Maybe he hadn't ever. Whenever loss happened people always said that speaking to someone - or doing anything healthy to cope with the grief - would help. But he had never really spoken about the loss he had gone through in his many lives. He didn't want to. All he did was run instead.

But this was them. If he wasn't going to talk about this with Clara, who was he going to talk about this with?]

We were in New York. We were getting ready to celebrate fixing a tricky time paradox and then Rory got whisked away by a Weeping Angel. Sent back in time. Amy followed of course. She loved him so why wouldn't she? But I couldn't save them. We knew when they had died it was in the cemetery we were standing in. It was a fixed point so I couldn't do anything.

[Clara knows why of course. The weight in his voice is palpable and his hands are idle, the stone lying on the velvet.] So I never saw them again.

[ Clara reaches out for his hands and kisses them both, bending over them and simply sheltering them between her bodies for a few moments. When she sits back up again, she reaches out to press her hand against his cheek. ]

I'm sorry. [ She uses a Gallifryen endearment for him and kisses him softly. ] I'm sorry that happened to them, to you, to River.

[ Clara's voice is soft as she speaks, everything in her tender. ]

[Instinctively he leans into Clara’s touch, letting the warmth from her lips spread across his body like a comfort blanket. He had always held himself so upright, so rigid and proud. But he melts into her as if she’s the sun and he’d do anything to be in her presence.

He doesn’t cry but his eyes become like pools, misting at the care she’s showing him. His voice is nothing but a low rumble now.]

I blamed myself for it for a long time. I still do. I wasn’t sure how to make it up to River or to them. And they told me not to travel alone but it felt like the only way to repent for what I had done. [He takes her hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.] And then I found you again.

[ She can't help but smile softly, just a little, at the kiss to her wrist. ]

You shouldn't travel alone, not ever. Now you never will again. H[ er thumb strokes his cheek softly, voice soft. ] And you don't have anything to repent for. I don't think Amy would think that. Or River.

I know they wouldn't. [He groans lightly but it's more a chuckle than anything else.] I can hear them scolding me now.

[He looks at her hand so delicate and slim in his before looking up at her again.]

I'm lucky to have you, Clara. [He was lucky to have met any of them - but he knows that goes without saying.]

Damn right you are.

[ She smiles at him, then kisses him gently before sitting back to let him continue his work. ]

Do you want to know what I thought the first time aia ever saw you?

'God that man has really angry eyebrows?' Or if you're talking about the other face, 'God that's a really big chin'?

[It's the first thing that comes to mind and he can't help but give her a very dry look as he picks up his tools again to continue with the stone.]

[ Clara laughs loudly, she can't help it. ]

I'm talking about the first time I ever saw you on Gallifrey you gob.

[ She laughs again. ] Do you want to know or not?

[He can't help but laugh along with her even as he pulls his goggles onto his face while he works the details of the stone.]

What do you think?

I thought you were so pretentious. You always liked to argue, with everyone who seemed to look your way. I watched you for a while, trying to figure you out before I finally talked to you. Of course I thought you were cute, that helped.

[ She gives him a lopsided grin. ]

So, when I did talk to you and you couldn't form a whole sentence, I thought you were offended I would even try. Once you found your words again though, I don't think we ever stopped talking. And I thought you were perfect for me. Exactly opposite from every other stuffy old Time Lord. Willing to dream with me and you never laughed at all the things I said I wanted to do. Only asked why I hadn't done them yet.

[ Her gaze is so fond and full of love as she watches her husband, resisting the urge to reach out to him now so that he can focus on the stone. ]

[His hands are preoccupied and he knows he needs to stay focused but he can still feel all of the love radiating from her whenever he does cast a glance up from his work.]

Pretentious? [He can't help but scoff fondly, the tips of his ears pink at her compliment.] Arrogant sure. But pretentious? But since we're on the topic - do you want to know what I thought of you?

Oh, I shudder to think.

[ Clara grins at him. ] Go on then, let's have it.

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