This fanfiction goes faster than I would have liked. I was considering making a multi-chapter, but I know myself. I would forget about it...so here's this is.

Clara stared in disbelief as the headmaster suggested such a thing.

"Anger management? I can't do that, you know I have to grade, plan for my classes, everything! I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have time for anger management classes." She had just shouted at a kid, she couldn't help it. The kid was such a pudding-brain and a dolt, she just had to. If he had just read the book, it wouldn't have been much of an issue, yet he tried to act like a smartarse and she let her anger get the best of her. Now she was paying the price.

"Miss Oswald, you practically shouted a kid off to tears! This isn't like you. I understand Mr. Pink was incredibly close to you and loss isn't such an easy thing to bare, especially with the metal men incident, but I genuinely recommend anger management for you, as a colleague and a friend." She winced at the thought of Danny, which only brought the origin of her ire, the...she shook her head internally, cursing his name. The headmaster paused, then lowered his voice, "I'll get you a substitute and you can take the month off. Try it. If it works, great! If it doesn't, you can still come back to work but I expect less shouting from you. Clara, you're one of our finest teachers and more levelheaded than most until recent. I'm only trying to offer what's best for you."

A deep sigh escaped the English teacher as she took the pamphlet the headmaster offered her. Two weeks of anger management classes wouldn't hurt, perhaps they'd allow her to stop thinking about Danny. "Alright, sir. I'll try it."

Clara looked at the pamphlet, then back at the building she was supposed to find Markus, the coach for her supposed anger management class. It wasn't long until she heard loud shouting coming from the inside.

"Tell your small intestines I said hello since your head is that far up your ass!" A Scottish accent rang through the hallway, causing an irritated "Malcolm!" to follow. Clara wasn't so sure about this anger management anymore, but a hand touched her shoulder. She jumped in surprise, prepared to hit whoever did so.

"Hi, are you here for the anger management classes?" Another scot asked. Turning, she found a woman with ginger hair and a bright smile. Glancing at her, it seemed as though she was practically made of legs, making Clara feel quite uncomfortable next to her.

"Oh, yes, I am." Clara smiled nervously in return, "I'm Clara."

"Amy," she responded, before looking towards the community center, "You just heard Malcolm just now. He's in a bit of rough shape after having a court ordered anger management class, but the trainer is working through him." Any paused, "Don't let the guy dissuade you. We all like each other in there anyhow."

Clara nodded, biting her lip. Amy pushed her through the doors before she could refuse, bringing her to the anger management class with gusto, only for Clara to find her face hit with a black polo shirt and a strong aftershave. She stepped back, finding an angry Scotsman, who she assumed was the Malcolm character. His brows furrowed in irritation.

"Back the fuck off you short piece of shite." he said, bringing her assumptions to be true- this was Malcolm.

"Malcolm, it was an accident." Amy said, ready to usher Clara to an open seat when Clara decided to just hit him back with her own anger, just for her own amusement. She wasn't truly angry, just more annoyed if anything. She didn't mind insults, but her height was just a low blow.

"Shove a cactus up your arse, buddy, you're not important." She quipped, allowing Amy to guide her to a seat before Malcolm could come up with a witty response.

"Clara, he's going to shout at you." Amy muttered, "This won't be a great way to make friends with him. I mean, you just stood up against him which is a feat on it's own, but still."

"So? I can hold my own." Clara said, taking a glance at Malcolm who seemed to be lost for words. In reality, Clara was genuinely afraid. This was unknown territory and to already have made an enemy- it was a mistake. Malcolm growled as he took his seat on the metal chair, arms crossed and eyes indicating his annoyance. "He didn't shout at me." Clara said, which was a surprise to Amy, who pursed her lips.

"Just wait." Amy murmured, taking the seat besides Clara.

"Well, that was quite the explosive start." The man that was supposedly Markus looked around. "Welcome to Anger Management class. For those who don't know, my name is Markus. I see we have a new person here. Could you introduce yourself, Miss?"

"Oswald, Clara Oswald." Clara introduced, "I'm an English teacher at Coal Hill."

"Wow sweetheart, was English just too frustrating for you? Or was it the nips?" Malcolm smirked. He was baiting her, Clara could feel it, but she couldn't help but play along. He had a pull that just seemed to bring her closer and closer to danger.

"A bit of the kids, I suppose. But you're becoming my new frustration." It would have sounded kinky if the tension wasn't as high. Malcolm smiled, he was going to like this lass, perhaps more than he had originally thought with her first insult towards him. She didn't fear him, but rather played on the same playing field.

Malcolm snorted, "Sweetheart, are you trying to get in my pants?"

"As if." She laughed, "Shove a bottle of Tabasco down your white arse and shut it."

"So what will it be, a cactus or Tabasco? I can only fit one." Malcolm said, arm resting against the back of the seat.

"I'm sure you can manage just fine." Clara giggled.

"That's enough!" Markus grumbled, "Clara, it's a pleasure to meet you. Malcolm, be nicer. You keep scaring off new people."

"I don't mind." Clara shrugged, "He's just letting off some steam since wanking isn't enough for him." She felt bad for poor Markus, his eyebrows had raised with his eyes wide and Malcolm had only chuckled.

"It is quite the pleasure, Miss Oswald." Malcolm responded, feeling his heartbeat quicken slightly. This would be an experience, especially since there was finally someone who could offer responses to his rude words. Not many people were competent in that matter at all. "Quite the fucking pleasure."

Anger management was a waste of time, Clara decided. She knew how to control herself. Markus was a wonderful guy, but it just didn't work. She noticed how Amy was a genuinely calm person and could follow Markus' instructions, but neither she or Malcolm had the patience for such trivial things.

It was their seventh and last session, as the group met every other day. Clara already felt as though she had just wasted seven hours of her life due to such ridiculousness, but she supposed Amy and Malcolm were both positive sides, even if Malcolm was an irritating arse about 90% of the time.

"Now, thank you for coming to all the meetings. They were incredibly long and arduous," Markus glared at Malcolm, who only feigned innocence. "But I hope you all managed to learn something out of it. I'm hosting drinks, on me, at the nearby pub. This may be an anger management meeting, but it's no AA." A burst of cheer came through the entire room, "But nothing too crazy. I'm not a rich guy, you know."

"But Markus, you already said drinks on you. It's too late to say such a thing as too fucking crazy." Malcolm laughed, "Let's go before he can change his mind."

"W-Wait!" But everyone had already left poor Markus standing there. He gave a deep sigh, following his students to the nearby bar.

"Markus clearly made a bad decision." Clara said, sitting besides Amy and Malcolm. She examined her fellow anger management mates, who clearly seemed more than happy to go to such lengths of drinking.

"He does it all the time. My husband, Rory, he works with Markus at the nearby hospital. Markus just doesn't know how to stop." Amy explained, "But he manages to pay the tab every single time."

"Maybe it's because he's a fucking nurse." Malcolm grumbled, downing a glass of Scotch and motioning for the bartender for yet another. "That's how he knows that husband of yours anyway."

"Good point." Amy said, shrugging. She took a glance at Clara, "Did you like the classes?"

"Hmm?" Clara was busy staring at her glass to even register the question.

"I asked if you liked the classes." Amy repeated.

"They were alright." Clara shrugged, drinking a bit more.

"Why were you even there anyway? You don't really shout, not unless your competing with Malcolm, but even then, you normally keep your cool." Malcolm rolled his eyes at Amy's assumption.

"I lost a boyfriend and an important person to me in the metal men incident." She looked towards her company, then noticed Malcolm was now deeply interested. "So I've been taking out my anger on children. He doesn't think it's healthy, so here I am."

"The metal men incident?" Malcolm questioned, "You have no fuckin' idea how much it took to cover that shit up."

"Cover it up?"

"Spin Doctor, sweetheart. It's my job." The word Doctor seemed to hit Clara, but it was gone as quick as it came. "The general public doesn't know that shit except for some cocksuckers up above and those affected."

"Right, that's what Kate told me." Clara muttered, "Why are you in anger management classes?"

Malcolm laughed at the question, taking a another swig of scotch, "Court mandated. People in our government, they're practically terrified when someone curses their way. The amount of people I've bollocked have reached the point of needing such a thing, so here I am."

"You've seen it enough. He bollocks the common folk too." Amy giggled, rolling her eyes. She then noticed a text from her phone, "My husband is here and I know he won't be too pleased about the drinking, so I better leave. Keep in touch?"

"Of course." Clara said, smiling. Amy was a genuinely wonderful person without a doubt. Clara hugged her fellow friend and Malcolm gave her a curt nod as the ginger walked off, leaving Malcolm and Clara on their own.

They mainly made small talk, with bits of each other's lives intertwined in the conversation. It was the first time they actually and properly talked, without blatantly flirting. Malcolm was actually on his best behavior, if she had to compare what she saw at the anger management classes. It was as though it had become a date, but Clara decided not to pay too much attention to it. After Clara's four glass, she knew she had reached her limit unless she wanted to wake up to vomit, so she pushed her glass away.

"I probably should head home." Clara said, grabbing her purse and ending the conversation. "I'm not much of a drinker."

"I'll walk you home." Malcolm responded, standing as well. For a man who had at least 7 drinks, he was standing perfectly fine and his speech wasn't slurred yet either.

"It's alright. I hardly live far anyway. Just a block or so." Clara said, "No need."

"It's late and you're slightly intoxicated, Clara. I'll bring you home." Malcolm insisted, a softness in his eyes that made it difficult for Clara to refuse. After thanking Markus, she fled with Malcolm into the cold night.

"You know, who you saw during those classes is exactly who I am when I'm working." Malcolm said quietly after a moment of walking, as though the silence was too much for him, "I become that person, someone I just can't control sometimes. It becomes difficult when it's your livelihood, rather than just a phase. That job of mine, it ate everything up. A love life, a social life, everything."

"But you have a ring on your finger." Clara pointed out. He raised his hand, looking to the offending finger.

"Keeps unwanted attention away, actually." He explained, "When I first started this job, I stumbled upon someone who wouldn't let go. I found if I wore a ring, people like her would matter. I've been single for as long as I can remember."

"Ah."

"I'm too fucking old, Clara. An old ballsack like me, I'm out of time. I have nothing." Clara wasn't sure if it was the alcohol talking or if Malcolm genuinely meant these things. Regardless, she continued to listen.

"But you're fine right now. You could find someone." Clara said, then paused. Malcolm was practically baring his soul to her; she couldn't just say something like that. "Sometimes we have to be someone we don't like, it's the only way to survive during times like these."

"Here's the fucking English teacher, spouting poetry." Malcolm smirked and Clara punched his arm playfully.

"I mean it. Look at me, for example. I've used anger to repress the grief I feel so I don't show people who I really am. I have a feeling it's the same at your job." She eyed Malcolm, "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Astute as always, Oswald." Malcolm admitted, "I thought these classes would help, even if I didn't go on my own accord, but when I go to work the following day...I just can't help it."

"It's okay, Malcolm."

"Easy for you to say, you give your life to children. I give my life to a BlackBerry and a government that doesn't even appreciate me." Clara stopped walking, indicating she was home. Malcolm shifted his weight between his heels, "Thank you for listening to me rant. It's not often I do such a thing. Besides Amy and a select few, I don't really have many friends, as you could probably guess."

"To be fair, your dirty mouth is quite off putting." Malcolm laughed heartily to that, crossing his arms. "Goodnight, Malcolm." Clara walked up the steps to her home, but before she could even get to the door, she kicked her foot hard on the step.

"Fucking fucker!" She cursed loudly enough for the neighborhood to hear her. Malcolm raised an eyebrow, laughing even further as he went towards her.

"Now who's the one with the dirty mouth?" Clara turned to him, the pain still lingering in her toe. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or maybe herself, but for some reason, Malcolm just looked...different, as though he was much more...attractive and definitely kissable. Kissable?! Malcolm seemed to have the same idea as she did, as he leaned closer and captured her lips with his. Maybe it was his way of cleaning her dirty mouth or perhaps the idea of her swearing in such a manner genuinely turned him on, she wasn't sure. His lips felt rough against her softer ones and the original pain from her toe had faded. It took them both a moment before they could grasp on reality again as they pulled away at the same time. They stared at each other, both staring to explain their action away.

"I-,"

"I didn't mean-,"

"We don't really have a reputation of liking each other." Malcolm said first, once his composure had regained.

"You're the one that started that soft shit!" Clara responded, jabbing a finger towards him.

"It's not my fault! It just...it was in the moment!" Malcolm scratched the back of his head, "Why? Is it so fucking bad my old fucking lips touched yours?"

She stared at him, her mind attempting to work, but her mouth was quicker. "Actually, I wouldn't quite mind that much."

Now it was Malcolm's turn to blush, "What?"

"You heard me. You're not that bad of a kisser for a man that's supposedly has been single forever." Clara said, fishing her keys from her pocket. "Text me. If you want your old arse to have someone, I might be your solution."

"You can't be fucking serious. That's just the alcohol talking, right? Or am I just fucking hallucinating?" Malcolm attempted to reason out, but Clara only laughed as she inserted the key into it's slot.

"You'll find out."

The following morning, Clara received a text.

'Were you only intoxicated?'

She knew it was Malcolm, without a doubt. She bit her lip, knowing that she did in fact feel something for Malcolm, under all the bantering. After a moment, she made her decision.

'Aren't you desperate?'

'I want to know if you're messing with me or not.'

Clara scoffed. She wasn't playing with him, of course not. She couldn't; not to a man like him, who genuinely had a soft side despite his original introduction to her.

'I still mean it, Malcolm. I'm free for the next three weeks, so you better think of something while you're bollocking the entire government.'

The reply was swift, 'Yes, boss.'