The Hybrid - Doctor Who Fanfiction

12

Tuesday, 7th of November, 2014 - 5:50 AM

"What are you doing?"

The Doctor was just waking from one of his rare naps when he caught Clara pulling a purse onto her shoulder and grabbing a jumper from the hamper in the corner. His voice startled her and she froze like a teenager caught sneaking out past curfew. She swore under her breath, closing her eyes briefly before she yanked the jumper on the rest of the way.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Clara says quietly, her back still turned as she tries to rethink her plan to fit the quickly evolving circumstances.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," the disgruntled Time Lord shoots back. "It's six AM, Clara, you never leave your bed for anything. Not for at least another two hours."

Undeterred, Clara further explains her reasoning. "It's the first Tuesday of the month, which means you're supposed to be asleep for the next--" Clara checks her wristwatch-- "for another half hour."

He hates that she's so smug, but he has to admit how impressed he is that she's memorized his inane idiosyncrasies. His eyes scan her swiftly and suddenly he's fully alert and scrambling into an upright position, whatever banter he was prepared to dish out dying on his tongue.

"You're dressed to go out."

"I am," she affirms steadily, adjusting the knit cap on her head and pulling on a pair of gloves she's just found in purse. It's only fifty-five degrees now, and Clara knows she won't really need them. But she figures she ought to stall for a bit anyway.

"Why?" The Doctor presses, wanting to hear her actually say the words.

"Because I'm going out," she said with a tired sigh, turning to face him at last. Clara wasn't interested in a row so early this morning, but she could feel it brewing like an oncoming storm. "This is the first time it's been sunny out in ages, Doctor, and I'm finally well enough to go and enjoy it. And that's what I plan to do."

"You want to go outside?" He asked with a small yawn, and Clara impatiently watched him rub the sleep from his eyes like a little boy.

"I'm not asking your permission, Doctor."

And, well, that brings a smile to his face, an awfully dopey one at that. He can feel it stretch across the bottom of his jaw as he lightly chuckles. "Oh, you're not, are you?"

"You won't let me go back to Coal Hill, you won't let me travel anymore in the TARDIS--"

He scoffs. "I really do hope you're getting to the point soon."

"I've been cooped up in this flat for a solid month and some change, and the only person I've had for company through it all is an agoraphobic time-traveling alien."

He balks at her, running a hand through silver hair that sticks out in hundred different directions, mussing it further. "I'm not agoraphobic, Clara. I just happen to think we are much safer inside than we are outside."

A small but exhausted smile graces Clara's lips as she rolls her eyes. "That's more or less the definition of an agoraphobic, Doctor. You want to keep us locked up in this flat because you've got an irrational fear that there are monsters lurking outside of it."

"AN you and I are both intelligent enough to know that is a definite possibility," the Doctor protests, his fingers dragging down his anxious face. "It took a lot of work to get your health back to where it is now, and I'm not risking it just because you've got a bit of cabin fever."

"I'm gonna go mad sitting in here watching you scream at the telly everyday." Clara ignores him, now looking for her keys after discovering they weren't in her purse. "I'm going to go absolutely insane if I stay here for one more second staring at the same bloody walls. I'm going out for a walk."

Crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes lower into his lap while she stalks into the kitchen in search of the keys. "You know I can't let you do that, Clara."

"Like I said," Clara shouts from the kitchen, "not asking permission, Doctor. Besides, it's probably about time I got active again! I could use the exercise."

"Well," the Doctor began, scratching the stubble that was beginning to form along his jaw, "if it's exercise you want, the TARDIS does have a gym with some of the best equipment in universe. Some of it even simulates the outdoors. You can pick and choose the planet or solar system or--"

"I don't want a bloody simulation, Doctor," Clara insisted as she moved out of the kitchen and into her laundry room, without her cane, the Doctor noticed distractedly. "I want to feel the sun--this sun in this particular solar system. I want to feel the actual sun on my face and the actual wind in my hair. Not some ridiculous sentient machine from the year 3056 blasting me with a hot air from a rotating fan."

Clara searched every possible spot in the flat for her key chain. Sure, there was pregnancy brain to account for, but this wasn't normal at all. She never misplaced her keys, not once. She just wasn't the type.

And then she heard them, along with a rustle of movement from the couch as the Doctor stood and walked towards her. She caught the glint of metal in his fist and laughed before shaking her head in disbelief.

"Of course. You stole my keys."

The Doctor gazes down at her with a soft twinkle in his cool blue eyes, though he seems almost as perturbed as she is. "I'm not stealing them. I'm holding them."

"Holding? Holding them for what?"

"Safekeeping," he explains calmly, not liking how pink her face has become in the past few seconds. "Clara--"

"You stole them! You had no intention of giving them back to me!"

"Because I didn't want you getting any ideas about running off at night. You were starting to unravel, I could see it in your eyes. I knew the keys were going to become a temptation, and, therefore, a liability."

The Doctor tries to ease the fury behind Clara's eyes with a hand to her shoulder but she shrugs it off with a groan. "I was taking precautions!"

Rubbing her temples with closed eyes, Clara sighs before opening them again. Plucking the gloves off of her hands, she tows the Doctor by his wrist back to the sofa. He sits after a moment's hesitation, frowning up at her in surprise when she takes his hands in hers.

"Before you say anything else, I get it. Alright? I get it."

"Sorry, what? You get what?"

"I nearly died, and that was scary for the both of us," Clara starts, biting at her lower lip. "The bad guys are still out there, and I know we'll catch them eventually, Doctor, we always do. But I'm not going to let you hold me hostage in my own home. So either you're coming with me, or you're staying here. But I am going to get out of this flat one way or another."

The Doctor gulps as he takes her in. Eyes that are the perfect shade of brown with high rosy cheekbones and the cutest button nose he's ever laid his eyes on. Hair to match the rich color of her eyes, perfectly framing her heart-shaped face. He doesn't let his eyes linger too long on her lips, though. It's the single feature he'll never spend to long on because he knows it's a trap. No, he only dares to look long enough to nearly satisfy his curiosity of what those lips would taste like when feverishly pressed against his own.

Her speech is-is fine--a little heavy on the logos and lacking in ethos, if you ask him, but it's not what persuades the Doctor in the end. If they were both honest, they'd admit that Clara never needed to open her mouth in the first place--he'd always fold like a deck of cards. And she didn't even have to say a word. All it took was a single look from that face, her face, whose every dimple and quirk he'd memorized with precision and devotion. One look, and she'd always get her way.

But she already knew that, of course.

With a low growl of anger at his defeat, the Doctor let go of her hands and sulked off to the TARDIS, grumbling about needing a decent coat before they went out.

-

Next chapter coming soon! Thanks for reading!