The Hybrid - Doctor Who Fanfiction

1

Wednesday, 7th of May, 2015 | 3:46 AM

When Clara Oswald is sleeping, there's not much that can wake her.

She's not a particularly light sleeper or easily bothered by exterior noise, so she usually sleeps quite soundly through the night, with little variation in her nightly slumber patterns. In addition to being a sound sleeper, Clara's had a very rough couple of days at Coal Hill and needed the medicinal assistance of a few sleeping pills to keep her down for the night, further aiding the process. This means, of course, that it'd take much more than a few sirens to rouse her from her dreamless sleep tonight.

So when she is awoken by what sounds like the TARDIS materializing in her living room, she believes she's still dreaming. The Doctor couldn't possibly be bothering her at this hour, she thinks drowsily, and closes her eyes once more. The silence in the flat only lasts for about two minutes, the sound of plates crashing and shattering against the floor causing one of Clara's eyes to fly open, squinting in the dark.

But he really could, the more sensible voice in her head reminds her gently.

"Mm." She mumbles quietly to herself, knowing the hallucinating option is quickly slipping away. She pulls the duvet over her head roughly only to rip it back off when she hears a string of foreign alien tongue come from the very familiar Scottish brogue.

Huffing angrily at the turn of events, Clara yawns and drags herself out of her warm, soft, pillow-covered bed and grabs a robe to cover her nightgown before hesitantly making to short journey into the kitchen.

"Doctor?" Clara asks brusquely when she sees him, her arms crossed over her  torso in part of being chilly, in part of being cross herself.

The Time Lord is bustling around in her cabinets, making the disruptive noise that Clara realizes is the sound that woke her up. Her bloodshot eyes flit from the old man to the digital clock on her stove that does indeed read ten minutes til four in the morning. She turns back to the alien with a dangerously almost feral glint in her eye.

"This'd better be good, Doctor," she halfway growls, blinking sleepily. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm building a new neuro-scanner for Strax as a sort of present. His old one, the tech is embarrassingly ancient," he explains to a very exhausted Clara who is contemplating ringing the police to come and apprehend the 'stranger' who has just 'broken into' her flat.

She decides against it, however, knowing she wouldn't be able to be nearly as convincing with the lie this early without the proper amount of caffeine running through her veins.

The Doctor finishes his speech by justifying that he needs a special kind of porcelain that is only found on Earth for a critical piece of the scanner.

"Thought I'd save a bit of cash and take some of this stuff off your hands, since you pudding brains only use your china plates twice every year, at best."

He turns around to face his companion, who he suddenly realizes is still completely silent, setting a plate on the counter behind him. He frowns at Clara's attire, shaking his head. "Why are you dressed like that? I'm not taking you to nap, I'm taking you to see the fish people of Kysterillous!" He notices the way her eyes that are usually too big are now too small and he squints at her, taking a few steps towards her.

"Is this what you look like when your eyes have shrunk?" He asks curiously.

"No," Clara says, more than annoyed now. "This is what I look like at three in the morning!"