(A/N: So I got a lot of requests for a sequel to my other story "Soap and Water" a few weeks ago…so here it is! Also, sorry for posting this so late. Enjoy! )
Clara was not happy. The previous day she had found an Ood in her bathroom "requiring" her to take the soap it was holding while she was showering. She had managed to get rid of it with the Doctor's help (he said the she only needed to ask for it to leave), and send it back to the Ood Sphere. After the excursion, she got the timelord to take her back home when she insisted that she needed sleep after running into a fleet of Daleks that specifically wanted to kill her in ancient Mesopotamia.
Upon arriving back at her flat, the Doctor accidently crushed her television and her laptop that was situated next to it. He tried to fix both, but only ended up breaking her bookshelf. He claimed that it wasn't his fault, using 'the sonic doesn't work on wood' as an excuse. He promised to fix everything when he came back next week as he hopped into the TARDIS. As the TARDIS disappeared into the time vortex, Clara resigned herself to her bedroom and finally went to bed to get much needed rest.
However, something woke her up.
Ignoring whatever roused her sleep, Clara groaned and rolled on over to the other side of her pillow, hoping that it was more comfortable. Right when she was about to loll into deep sleep, she heard a clang in her kitchen.
Not feeling tired for obvious reasons, Clara shot her eyes open and looked at her alarm clock. Three in the morning. She had only gotten three hours of sleep. Biting back her growing fear and not worrying about her sleep deprivation, she climbed out of her bed and grabbed the closest thing she could get a hold on to.
The closest thing next to her happened to be a meter stick. She wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing, but she decided to roll with it and hope that the intruder was just the Doctor missing the mark by a few hours and landing early.
Clutching the meter stick, Clara nudged the door open, wincing at the creaking that it made. She stepped out into the hallway that led to the kitchen while wielding a meter stick in one hand and a pillow in the other. She slowly tip toed down the corridor, freezing when an occasional loud clang would sound from the kitchen. As she neared the end, Clara glued her back onto the wall and edged herself nearer to where the wall ended. Taking a deep breath, she peeked around the corner to get a look into the kitchen.
It was a complete mess.
There were mountains of flour covering the countertops, spatulas and forks splayed all over the floor, imploded chocolate lining the microwave and part of the wall, and worst of all, various pots and pans of all sizes were glued to everywhere with egg yolk. In the midst of the mess, the Doctor stood frozen in the middle. He seemed to have been in the middle of an intense whisper-speech with a person that was holding a spherical ball.
The Doctor unfroze and straightened his back then called, "Clara! I was just in the middle of cooking a delicious breakfast for a lovely friend of mine," he cleared his throat, curtly bowed and said delightfully, light gleaming in his eyes, "You."
Clara unstuck herself from the wall and dropped the meter stick. She moved into the light and tried to get an understanding of the situation, "What's going on Doctor?"
The Doctor stepped away from the mysterious person he was standing next to and moved excitedly towards his companion. "Well Clara, I decided to fix your television, laptop, and bookshelf instead of making you wait an extra week. Also, as a little extra gift, I decided to throw in a little bonus and make you a soufflé!" He finished off his explanation and gave Clara's nose a quick bop.
Clara bit back rising annoyance and dusted off the flour that the Doctor had unintentionally left on her nose. She poked him in the chest and brought his head down to where she could access it. He shifted uncomfortably as she whispered into his ear, "That doesn't explain who that is." She let her hair nudge at his ear to signal who she was talking about.
The Doctor's eyes widened and he straightened his back. He glanced back at the person behind him then turned around to face Clara. His mouth formed an 'O' then he pursed his lips.
"Oh," he let out miserably.
"Oh," Clara repeated in a low tone, not taking her eyes off the Doctor's.
"You're not going to like it," he started cautiously, eyes darting back in forth from looking at the person to back at Clara.
Clara raised her eyebrows expectantly and waited for an answer.
The Doctor pinched his fingers together, preformed a half pirouette, and lined up with Clara. He put an arm around her, slouched down to get to her height level, lowered his head to hers, and then whispered, "Here's a hint. It has lots of tentacles."
Clara narrowed her eyes and ignored the hot breath coming from his nose that was rolling in waves off her cheeks and said bluntly, "You brought the Ood back." She let him wince and shamefully nod before she asked, "Reason?"
Knowing that she would probably throw the pillow with him, he decided to take the risk-free route and explain. "Well I couldn't have fixed all of this all by myself with such little time. And I happened to be in the Ood Sphere when I thought of the idea." He said, "I can leave the rest up to you."
Clara looked at the Ood in the kitchen then back to the Doctor and crossed her arms. "I hope you realize how creepy they are. I'd rather have a broken television and computer than having that," she gestured her head at the Ood, "In my flat."
The Doctor thought for a moment then suggested, "I could bring it back."
Clara arched her eyebrows in wonder of his foolish actions and replied, "That would be very wise."
He nodded and gave her shoulders a light pat then pulled the Ood back into the TARDIS. They disappeared for a moment before the TARDIS rematerialized back in the living room, this time not destroying anything. The Doctor stepped out of his ship and shut the door gently behind him.
"I expect you'll be making me clean up the mess?" He asked expectantly as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it onto the sofa.
Clara snorted while she tossed her pillow at where his jacket landed and said, "Right on point."
She pursed her lips, paused for a moment, then moved across the room to where he was standing patiently. When she reached him, she lightly put her hands on his bowtie and straightened it. "What's the deal with the bowties?" she questioned, all while playing around with the accessory. The Doctor gazed down at her with a smile that said he had no objection of letting them be in such intimate closeness. However, he still had to fight the urge to nervously run his hands through his hair in fear of ruining the moment.
The Doctor was quiet for quite a while in fascination of the woman that he adored so much before he shook his head to clear away foolish thoughts and then folded his arms. He held his nose high and scoffed, "I thought you already knew. Bowties are cool," he ended his answer with an air of pride, praying that he was acting normal again so that she wouldn't notice their extended silence together.
Clara hid a smile by looking away before facing him once again. She sighed, "You keep on telling yourself that," then gave his bowtie one last tug before releasing it from her fingers and taking a step back. "You don't look half as bad without that huge jacket of yours," she commented, an unconcealable smile spreading across her face while she gave him a once over.
"I like to think it brings out my eyes," he approved, grinning happily at her comment.
"You say that with everything you wear," Clara said while slowly circling around him. He patted down his bowtie, flattened out his waistcoat, and moved into the kitchen while gesturing a hand towards Clara to follow him.
"No use waiting it off," The Doctor said reasonably when she reached his side.
"Right on as always." Clara answered, grabbing a spatula off the sticky wall as a signal that they were going to get started on cleaning up the seemingly impossible mess.
He gave her a lazy grin that made her bubble in excitement and breathed, "Geronimo."
(A/N: And there you go! Thanks for reading!)