deepcover!twelve & clara
the way they look at each other
because ... i see wonders
I was waiting for Clara to do this when she was holding the watering can, so I decided to just draw it at the very least.
Ramin Karimloo by Ryan Enn Hughes for The New York Times
Thank you Maggie Stables, for your amazing portrayal of Evelyn Smythe. You were fantastic!
Allonswin AU | The Doctor and Clara explore a new planet
"Something’s wrong. We should leave."
"But we just got here…!"
What am I to you? | a twelve/clara fic
addendum to the caretaker
Or read on AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/2372381
"What am I? To you?" That was how Clara was greeted when she opened the door to her bedroom. The Doctor was sitting on the corner of her bed, staring resolutely at the wall.
“And hello to you too.” Clara replied, removing her coat and hanging it over the back of her chair.
“Danny is your boyfriend. You’ve made that very clear. What you haven’t been quite so forthcoming with is what that makes me?” The Doctor brought his gaze up to meet hers and it struck her how small he was, shoulders hunched and spine curved as though he was trying to fold in on himself.
“Is that what all the shouting and the general horribleness was about? Danny being my boyfriend hasn’t changed us. It didn’t change us before you met him and it won’t change us now.” She asked, trying to walk the line between teasing and scolding. The Doctor didn’t respond, suddenly far more interested in his fingernails than a conversation.
“Doctor, you have to talk to me. If we’re going to keep travelling together then we have to talk.” As tough as it was, being honest with Danny had taken a weight of her shoulders, some of which she hadn’t even realised she was carrying.
“So that’s all I am? Your travel guide?” He murmured bitterly.
“I didn’t say that.” Clara said firmly, moving past the TARDIS that was currently blocking her wardrobe and resting her back against it.
“Then what? Your chauffeur? A handy pilot to take you from adventure to adventure and home again?” He accused her, hands waving about wildly.
“No! You’re my…that is to say, you are…I…” Clara hurried to defend herself, to clear up whatever confusion the Doctor had, but the words wouldn’t come. Not that she ever really had the words to begin with.
“What? I’m what? Be merciful Clara, just make the final blow quick.” The Doctor muttered dramatically, seizing one of her pillows and holding it to his chest as though it could shield him from any hurt.
“Stop it. You’re being horrible again and I won’t have it. If it’s so important then perhaps you should tell me what I am to you.” Clara said, making a conscious effort to unfold her arms so that at least one of them wouldn’t look defensive and terrified.
“That’s not why I’m here.” The Doctor mumbled sulkily.
“I don’t care why you’re here. What am I to you, Doctor, that you have to put a label on what we have? That you have this compulsive need to file our interactions away in a neat little box?” She pressed, straightening up and taking a step forward.
“Well that’s easy. You’re my…” He trailed off, his expression painfully conflicted. With a sigh (that was definitely not fond, or affectionate, or any of those other words thank you very much) Clara walked over to her bed and sat down, slipping her arm through the Doctor’s and resting her head on his shoulder.
“It’s not easy at all.” She said quietly, clinging to the soft fabric of his jacket sleeve.
“No. It’s not.” The Doctor admitted, voice so soft it was scarcely more than a whisper.
“Associate is too clinical and cold, but friend doesn’t seem like enough. Companion makes me feel like I’m living in an Agatha Christie novel. Whatever this is, I don’t think it could be considered dating so that takes partners out of the mix. And we can’t use it in the platonic sense because I’d rather not feel like a cowboy. Not really my thing.” Clara mused aloud.
“So what are we? If we’re not any of those?” He asked, still clinging to his pillow shield.
“I guess we’re…carers. I care about you, you take care of me. The caretaker and his carer. How does that sound?” There was a long pause as the Doctor considered her words.
"I can live with that."
A Daring Escape // A Ten/Oswin fic (~3000 words)
An AU in which Ten rescues Oswin from the Dalek Asylum.
Read on AO3 here if you’d prefer
She’s pressed up against a wall by a Dalek, begging and crying and confused. Then there’s a single word, a single word spoken by an angel that sends the Dalek spiralling away, screaming for reinforcements in its inhuman screech of a voice.
“Come on, there’s not much time.” He says, grabbing her hand and taking off with her stumbling along behind.