"I warned you," he said. "You've done this to me for the last time."
Clara froze, fingers halfway up her jacket zipper. She'd been heading into the console room -after failing to find the Doctor in any of the other normal places - her mind on today's potential adventures.
She waited for the Doctor to follow that up with...well, anything. But he didn't. Clara peeked her head around the corner. He sat on the TARDIS floor, his back to her, a small pile of parts on his left and right side. She couldn't tell what they had been pulled from. Very likely, she didn't want to know.
Glancing over her shoulder, she considered retreating. He didn't seem to have heard her, still hunched over and muttering to himself. Or singing, maybe. She should back out of the room while she had the chance. Today could be the day she finally found the missing pool. Or she could wander the halls until the Doctor finally sought her out because she'd been gone 'an alarming amount of time, Clara.'
Which usually meant he had gotten hungry. Or bored.
She heard the sonic glasses flip on, watched him drop another piece into the pile on his right. Finally, curiosity outweighed reason, and she gave in. Clara shuffled in closer, moving slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop anything potentially incriminating.
He didn't.
When she could see him clearly, she found another small pile in front of him - a tuft of something fluffy, and possibly a small winding key. He had a case in his lap. Clara looked it over. It seemed very familiar to her, even with its insides spread out all around him.
The radio.
She only realized she said it aloud when the Doctor pulled his head up.
"Oh, hello, Clara."
She blinked at him, then looked back down at the radio. The only radio in the TARDIS. Well, likely not the only one, but the only one either of them had been able to locate. She liked that radio, too. She enjoyed catching the Doctor's foot tapping along with it when he didn't notice her watching. Or finding him napping - which he always denied adamantly when he woke up - while music filled the console room.
"Doctor?"
He looked her over, and then back at the radio.
"Won't be long," he said. "Just a little project and we'll be on our way. What're you thinking? Jacket? Somewhere cold, then? I know just the place."
Clara looked down at her jacket. She hadn't expected him to notice, felt at least half certain at any point that she could walk around in a trash bag and he'd not give her a second glance. Well done, Doctor. She'd have to test out his new found ability to see her at a later date. She had more important things to worry about right now.
Taking a small step closer, Clara reminded herself to not get too involved. The last time had cost her the better part of an afternoon and her favorite pair of shoes.
"What are you doing?"
He sighed, pushed the glasses down the bridge of his nose until he could make eye contact.
"I told you," he said. "Making a clockwork squirrel."
She quickly searched her mind. She'd been fairly tired the previous night...had he mentioned taking apart their radio to build a clockwork anything? She came up blank, and let out a sigh of her own.
Still time to run...
"With the radio."
She heard the words come from her own mouth and could feel the exact moment she'd lost the internal battle. He'd won, with seemingly no effort at all on his part.
"Why?" he asked, returning to his piles, fingers skimming over the top of one before he picked up the case. "What would you use?"
She opened her mouth and closed it. If she stayed, she might be able to keep him focused. The sooner he finished this, the sooner they could return to what passed for normal in her current life.
"We'll have to buy another one," she said.
She could feel his eyes move to her, even if his head didn't follow. He made a noise. It that didn't feel like one of agreement.
He dropped another piece into the pile in front of her feet.
"Are you just going to stand there?" he asked. "It's not going to build itself."
Clara continued to stare at him, watching as he carefully pulled pieces out and continued to stack.
Finally, she slid to the ground.
She grabbed the bit of fluff, ran her fingers over it, and just managed to not ask him what the radio had done to offend him so much. She had to draw the line somewhere.