A/N: first whouffle, woowowowowooo! enjoy!
Disclaimer: i do not own doctor who. everything belongs to the BBC. I love you moffat xo
Clara entered the console room, towel-drying her wet hair as she happily sung the very few words she knew to the song Hungry like the wolf, her new favourite song after meeting Professor Grisenko.
She swept her hand across the smooth edge of the console as she walked around, the cold metal prickling her palm. Clara hung the towel on one of the metal rungs surrounding the centre of the room and looked about, sure the Doctor was in here as she had checked all of the other rooms he was usually in and found them empty.
He was often in here fiddling with buttons or fixing screws that, when she asked what they did, explained were "spacey-wacey" (he may have told her he was a one thousand year-old Time Lord, but he had the vocabulary of a pre-schooler)
But, surprisingly, he was nowhere to be found in the room.
"Doctor?"
She did another lap of the room, checking to see if he was hiding somewhere where he might be waiting to jump out and scare her (she'd done it to him on countless occasions, and knew he was biding his time to get payback) But he was nowhere in sight.
She stopped in the middle of the room and chewed on her cherry-red thumbnail, thinking.
Where the bloody hell could he be?
"Doctor!" she called a little louder this time.
There was a muffled sort of noise that came from outside.
Outside?
Why would he be outside?
Clara slowly spun on her heel to face the Tardis door, more than slightly confused.
"Doctor?" she said just as loudly, though her voice dropped an octave.
She barely made out the words but she was sure she heard the Doctor shout "Yes Clara! I'm out here!"
She glanced left and right, then paced over to the door, and, if a little hesitantly, opened it.
The blast of wind that struck Clara head on was cold and vicious, and completely unexpected. She teetered on the balls of her feet, momentarily losing her balance as the sudden gale rocked her head to toe.
Clara dragged her feet across ground, and used as much strength as she could muster to step out of the Tardis and slam the door shut.
She looked out to where the time machine had landed. They were on a grassy cliff, looking out to a choppy ocean.
"Doctor? Where are we?"
Clara almost had to shout; the wind was stealing her voice and pulling into the other direction, so it was about as audible as having a pillow over her face.
Clara looked up at the cloudy sky, glowing pearly white and steel grey in the gloomy dull light coming from the sun, buried deep somewhere in the stormclouds.
"Cape Blanco of Oregon, Earth, 1962. A few days before the Columbus Day Storm, If I'm correct, which I usually am"
The Doctor looked up what he was doing to peer up at Clara. She wasn't concentrating on him, more interested in the oncoming storm- he chuckled silently at his own joke -than him, so it gave him time to stare at her; study her petite body, slightly bowing from the gale, and damp brunette hair whipping back behind her, dancing and twisting up behind her like it was alive.
Her face was twisted into the confused look she bore often around him, full pink lips slightly parted, head tilted to left an inch or so, and her brows knitted together, forming a cute little crease in the centre of her forehead.
He loved that crease; it marked the spot where he kissed her when she was worried or scared or happy or sad or, anything. He loved to kiss her soft hands; her lovely face.
She was wearing a pair of spotty red-and-black woolen stockings, a black skirt, and a rather flimsy crimson knitted jumper. Her arms snaked around her tiny body as her teeth clattered from the cold.
The doctor frowned slightly. Clara was so fragile; her dainty frame swaying in the strong gust as if it weighed nothing.
He always felt a strong sense of responsibility for her and her wellbeing- he had let he die more than once before; it was his duty to keep this version of her alive- and not because he liked this Clara the most -he constantly thought to himself.
The Doctor got up from his kneeling position and walked over to a shaking Clara, her sweet lips turning blue.
He took off his coat- feeling the hollow ache of cold immediately -and put it on her shoulders, leaving his hands there as he did so.
Clara turned around, feeling the sudden warmth and the familiar smell of him, to protest, but she caught sight of what the Doctor had been doing out here all along and was stopped mid-sentence.
"No Doctor, you keep I- Are you painting the Tardis?" She said in disbelief.
The Tardis was almost completely covered head-to-toe in crimson red paint, matching the paint on the Doctors forehead and the blush creeping up to his cheeks.
He stepped back from her suspicious glare and threw his hands out in mock cabaret.
"Red! Your favourite!" He exclaimed, a smile on his lips, though his eyes were round with worry.
Clara could be touchy, and very odd, at times.
"Why would you do such a thing? The Tardis is such a beautiful colour! Wait… Do not tell me you're doing it for me?! Because it's my favourite colour!?"
The Doctor mentally sighed in relief. She was worried he was doing to please her. She was way off.
"No. No! Of course not! Besides, even if I tried, she wouldn't let me. Not for you, anyway. Probably turn the paint into some form of light energy, and refract it from her exterior…" -he caught the glare she was giving him and his face fell when he realized what he had said- "sorry…"
Her left eyebrow arched upward, and she uncrossed and then recrossed her arms.
"Well then why Doctor? And why did you bring us here?" She nodded out toward the coast, the water choppy and dark.
He dived his hand into his pant pocket and out of it pulled a paintbrush.
"You paint; I'll explain"
Tell me what you think so far! and will you guys give me prompts for whouffle? i love writing it but have absolutely no ideas. Thanks for reading! :)