Title: Farfalle
Word Count: 886
Rating: G
Pairing: Whouffle/Souffez
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nope.
Prompt: Tumblr Whouffle Week Summer 2014 - Monday: Domestic.
There was a deep, booming clap of thunder as the Tardis materialized on the grassy lawn next to Clara's apartment. Clara held her bag above her head as she and the Doctor made a mad dash towards the stairway – their shoes and legs quickly becoming soaked.
"It wasn't raining when we left," she shouted back over the blowing rain, thunder, and lightning. The Doctor checked his watch on his left wrist with a frown.
"Sorry – overshot by about five hours. It's eight o'clock," he said sheepishly as they quickly dashed up to Clara's landing. The Doctor shook his jacket of water a bit before entering her apartment. Both of their shoes and jackets were left to dry by the door on the coat rack.
"Should we order some take-away?" she said as she started flipping on the lights to her kitchen and sitting room before dropping her bag in a nearby chair. "Italian? Maybe Chinese?" The Doctor gave her a dumbfounded look in return of the suggestion.
"I just took you to a royal ballet on Paraont and you want take-away?" he retorted as he made his way into her kitchen. She perched herself on one of her small island's barstools and watched him as he began rummaging through her cupboards and refrigerator, picking ingredients at what seemed random. "No, I'll cook. We'll have a nice night in."
"You? Cook?" she said with a laugh. "I've seen your fish-custard – I was hoping for something cohesive. Besides, not everything needs to be super-fancy for me to enjoy it." She smiled earnestly as the Doctor rolled up his sleeves and filled a stock-pot up with water to set on the stove.
"Oi – don't diss the fish-custard until you've had it, young lady." He set the flame to high as he salted the water and added just a dash of olive oil to it. "I'll have you know that I've worked the kitchens with some of the most successful chefs and inspired some of the most popular dishes." He shook a box of farfalle pasta in her direction before slicing up some mushrooms. "Besides, you deserve the best that the universe has to offer." A flash of light and then another loud crack echoed from the dark clouds.
She watched him add some chicken to a frying pan and swiftly turn back cutting up other things like onions and parsley. She had always been the one to prepare meals on the rare occasion that they remained at her apartment instead of going out. She was always willing to try a recipe once, following each instruction to the letter. Some were successful attempts and others – well, she didn't like bringing up those near-catastrophes. She sat, amazed watching the Doctor, though – how he moved about in some sort of staccato dance all at once knowing exactly what he was going to do next and yet, being utterly haphazard with throwing ingredients here and there as if by accident. It wasn't long before he was dumping the entire pound of pasta into the boiling water.
"About seven minutes and we'll have our dinner," he beamed as he began cutting up the grilled chicken that had been resting on the cutting board.
"Smells good already!" Clara said as she plucked one of the cooked mushrooms from a nearby bowl and ate it. After a brief flurry of cream, about fifteen different spices, eight types of cheese, and just a splash of the pasta water the Doctor pulled all of his main ingredients together in a large pan.
"And here we have it," he said as he spooned big helpfuls of bow-tie pasta, chicken, mushrooms, spinach, and something else Clara wasn't entirely sure of into two dishes. "Bon appetite." The Doctor looked proud of himself and slightly anxious for her to try what he created as they made their way over to the couch. Clara flipped on her TV and queued up one of her shows she had recorded and not had a chance to watch yet. The Doctor pulled a throw blanket from behind where they were sitting and draped it across the both of them. He allowed her to settle and have the first bite.
"Mmmm – oh wow, that is delicious. We should do this more often," she said with her one cheek puffed out like a chipmunk's filled with the warm food. The Doctor beamed inwardly at her reaction. He would move mountains for her and he was glad that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy this small gesture.
"I'm glad you like it, Clara." She leaned on his shoulder as she speared a single bow-tie with her fork and held it up, peering at him with one eye open trying to visually replace his bow-tie with it before eating it with a chuckle.
They were each about half-way through their meals as a flash of lightning lit up the sky and with another clap, the lights dimmed before all of the electricity popped off. They were left in the darkness with only the lightning illuminating them every few moments. The Doctor filled the space with the greenish-glow of his sonic.
"Inside picnic?" he mused, a catlike grin slowly making its way on his face. Clara nodded, putting her plate down on the coffee table before getting up.
"I'll grab the candles."