Disclaimer: None of the characters, places or names are mine. This is made just for fun!
"Souffle?" Clara asked, coming down the steps into the console room, steadying the lemon soufflé she was carrying in her oven-mitted hands.
"Hm?" the Doctor called, taking his feet off the console and looking up from his copy of Astral Geophysics for Dummies.
"I made… a soufflé." Clara gingerly set down the casserole dish and took a seat beside him.
"Ah, yes," the Doctor said, sticking a finger in the edge of the foam and licking it, "Soufflé. Mm. Lovely." He shifted in his seat, contemplating his sticky fingers. "You know, Earth is the only planet that bothers with soufflés."
"What do you mean, we bother with them?" Clara laughed.
"Humans, you got all sorts of flavors of soufflé," he said, "Chocolate, carrot, strawberry, cheese…" He trailed off. "See, the rest of the galaxy all tried some sort of whipped-egg, baked-custard thing, but they all chucked it out after a couple accidental pots of sunken goo."
"Ah, well," Clara said, shaking her head, "They're just not persistent enough, then."
"Either that, or…" The Doctor trailed off, shooting Clara a sideways glance.
"Or what?"
"Or the rest of the universe just has better things to do."
"Hmph! Rude," Clara scoffed, crossing her arms. "Well, if it's that unimportant…" She scooted the soufflé dish away from the Doctor.
He grinned. "Ah, now, I didn't say that." He sat up quickly and took a spoon from the tray. Clara smiled and took one as well. Then something about the way Clara turned jogged the Doctor's memory and he put his spoon down heavily, looking confused.
"No wait, hang on, you were in a picture."
"What?" Clara asked.
"You. In a picture, on the wall. I saw you." The Doctor frowned, gesturing vaguely and visualizing a bulletin board.
"Sorry, bit lost. We still talking about soufflés?"
"No… the Black Archives. You remember, the Zygons, the broken memory wipe thingies, the ooh-hey-let's-blow-up-London-because- y'know who's ever heard of diplomacy?" The Doctor stood up, annoyed, and went to the console to start powering it up.
"You mean U.N.I.T?" she asked, standing up as well and peering curiously at the Doctor. "Wait, okay, they have a picture of me. So what?"
"Clara," he said, pausing his button-pushing and switch-flicking to look at her seriously, "If that was the first time you've been to the Black Archives, how was there already a picture of you being there on the wall?" He resumed dashing about the console.
"Ooh," Clara said, tapping her head to remember, "There was something about that. That women said so."
"Kate Lethbridge Stewart?"
"Yeah, she said she was… screening your associates? Didn't want information about you falling into the wrong hands."
The Doctor sighed exasperatedly. "Knew they'd try something like that," he said in a low voice, "Just never thought they'd dare go so far." He looked up. "Flip that lever."
"What?"
"Lever," he said, snapping and pointing, "Flip it."
"O-kay…" Clara flipped the designated lever. The TARDIS parked with a satisfying echo-y thud. She glanced at the ceiling cautiously. "What'd I just do?"
"Landed us." He picked up the phone from the console and pressed a button. "Black archives, I know you're listening!" the Doctor scolded, and the attendant on the line swallowed nervously.
"Something we can help you with, sir?"
"Yeah, stand back."
"Wha-?"
He hung up the phone with a click.
"Landed us where?" Clara asked. When the Doctor appeared to not hear her, she repeated, "Doctor, landed us where?"
"1760, Pirate ship. About to dock in…" he checked his watch, "Port Au Prince."
"A pirate ship?" she asked incredulously, wondering if the Doctor had lost it.
"Yes, pirate ship, Jolly Roger, stolen treasure, yo-ho-ho and all that? Ring a bell?" the Doctor said grumpily as he pulled a slightly smushed pirate hat from under the console and plopped it on Clara's head. He strode towards the door and swung it open with more force than strictly necessary.
"But what are we going there for?" she asked, chasing after him.
He glanced back at her over his shoulder, looking cross. "Shopping."
And with that he walked out and Clara followed him, utterly bemused.
A/N: Well, that's part one, hope you liked it. Stick around, because two more chapters are on their way. I didn't have a beta, so I know there's a few rough patches in here, all mistakes are mine. Let me know what you think! Thanks.