A/N: I started this a while ago and after watching the Christmas Special I finally had the urge to finish it. I started this in Summer (2013) so it was supposed to be set around then but it doesn't really make a difference.

I hope you like it, it's pretty much mindless fluff but I think it's enjoyable (then again I would...I guess), tell me if it's awful and tell me if it's not, or don't tell me at all, you're call.

Anyway, happy reading:)

Disclaimer: Characters not mine but handled with care.

Soufflés and Sofas

A blue box materialised before Clara's window, not that she noticed, she was too involved in replying to a gazillion emails she had received. She hadn't even been away for that long - chin-boy always made sure of that. Looking up from her glowing laptop screen she saw his large face adorned with a quirky smile.

"So, where are we off to?" Clara said excitedly as she jumped to her feet.

The Doctor hesitated, he ran his fingers through his perfect hair and just 'ummm'ed. Finally he looked up from the floor and spoke to that beautiful woman stood before him with her hands firmly on her hips, "Here. We're just staying here. Well, more to the point can I stay here because you're already here? Why? Because the TARDIS is having a great day and when I say 'great day', I mean that entirely sarcastically and she is not having a great day at all."

Clara ran her finger along her jaw and scratched at an imaginary beard, "I suppose you can stay...since you said please."

"I didn't sa-"

"Shush!" Clara held up a finger in front of his face and then quickly scooted past him towards the door, grabbing his hand as she went.

"Where are we going now?" The Doctor looked confused as Clara headed for the front door.

"To get your things - you're staying here remember?"

"No, well yes, but no," the Doctor flailed his arms as he tried to form words, "the TARDIS is being temperamental, she's refusing to let me do anything. I can't find rooms, food, clothing...even my bowtie!"

"Doctor?" Clara raised an eyebrow and pointed just below his chin at his favourite item of clothing.

"Oh! That would be why," The Doctor blushed and awkwardly fixed his bowtie, "Well then, what do you humans do now?"

Clara leant back against a wall, "What do you mean?"

"Well this, now, what do you do?" The Doctor threw his arms around his head, gesturing to the space, "What do you do with time? You have so much of it and yet, you have so little. Does that make sense? No, no it doesn't. It doesn't ma-"

Once again Clara brought her hand to The Doctor's face to hush him, "We make soufflés."

Clara turned her back to him, hiding her smirk, and sauntered over to the kitchen where she gathered her ingredients and equipment, "You ready?"

She handed the Doctor the carton of milk despite his protesting. He preferred to take the back seat in these sorts of things, he wasn't particularly domestic at all. Nonetheless, he followed Clara's lead, she was 'the boss' after all, and poured the milk into the mixture when she said so.

Once they had fully prepared the mix, Clara carefully placed it into the oven and smiled. She wasn't just smiling because she was glad she could still make a brilliant soufflé, or because she was enjoying seeing the domestic side of the doctor; she was smiling because she foresaw the 20 minutes of boredom that the Doctor would have to endure as they waited for the soufflé to bake until golden.

Twenty minutes didn't seem so long to Clara, enough to flick through the first half (and only interesting half) of the day's newspaper and check on Artie and Angie. However, to the Doctor it seemed like a lifetime. Long enough to save a planet from infamous outer space villains and see the history of the Earth twice over. Really, twenty minutes was probably more than just one lifetime to him but who knows how complex this could get if we start talking about time from a timelord's point of view?

The oven 'pinged', jolting Clara from a trance as she stared at the words on the newspaper, blurring them. She rushed to the oven's side and pinched the gloves from the Doctor's grasp before placing them over her petite hands, "Unless, of course, you want to?" She offered her gloved hands to the Doctor.

"No thank you. Baking isn't really my area. No, definitely yours...Soufflé Girl."

Clara raised an eyebrow at the use of the nickname then quickly turned around to snatch her beloved dessert from the oven, "There we go, not perfect but hopefully delicious!"

The Doctor knitted his fingers together, "I think it's perfect, then again I don't bake often...and the boredom's probably gone to my head," he screwed up his face with worry, "She better fix herself or I might lose some brain cells by the end of this."

"Who? Oh, the TARDIS?" Clara beamed, "I don't know, you're a clever boy, I'm sure losing a few brain cells won't do too much damage."

The Doctor just rolled his eyes at her as he sulked off and slumped on the sofa, sighing as he did so. Clara came up beside him and knelt down, stabilising herself with the side of the couch, to reach his eye level, "Don't you even want to try it?"

"Hmmm, I'm tired though," He pouted as he pondered the thought, "All this 'not doing anything' is quite exhausting."

"So, is that a yes or a no?" Clara urged, receiving no reply, "Doctor?" She pushed up from her knees and brought her face closer to his only to find that he was asleep, "No then? Ok."

"CLARAAA!" The sound of children's voices echoed through the hallway and reached Clara's ears, startling her so she drew her face away from the Doctor. It was Artie and Angie.

Tiptoeing around the space that the Doctor sat in and picking up the pace as she reached the hallway, Clara went to meet the children, "Shusshhh, Doctor's asleep. What do you want?"

A sly smile spread across Angie's face, "Oh nothing, it's ok. We'll leave you and your boyfriend alone for now," finishing with another half smile, Angie took her brother's hand and lead him back upstairs.

Clara couldn't help a smile of her own but still felt slightly frustrated, even she was getting used to timelord time which showed as she stretched her arms above her head like a feline and yawned loudly, "I'll just get some blankets and then I can sleep," she thought.

As quickly and as quietly as possible, she hurried upstairs and into the closet to find a couple of blankets, she then hopped back down to the living room where the Doctor sat and placed one of the throws over him. He was sweet to watch as he slept, his hair was still perfect and he looked so peaceful. His head lulled and a sense of jealousy stirred in the pit of her stomach when she realised how carefree and content he was in this moment without a regard for the world, on the other hand, she was sure his dreams were filled with planet-saving action so she took a seat next to him on the sofa and watched him as he dreamt.

As the minutes marched on and Clara's eyelids became heavy and the air around her settled, becoming cold, she found herself forgetting about her own blanket that was lying on the floor and instead she found warmth in the blanket she had given to the Doctor which was still spread across his shoulders and covered him to his ankles. She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and pushed her side into him to gain the most heat possible from his body as well as bringing her knees up onto the seat to shield them from the cool breeze on the floor as she slipped them under the throw.

It had been hours since the pair had both fallen to sleep on the sofa and a few hours less than that since the blanket had fallen off both Clara and the Doctor. Clara was now acting as a blanket for the Doctor as they lay together, spread out and filling up the space on the sofa. During their sleep they had obviously moved and reposition themselves more comfortably, despite that being a more compromising position. The Doctor stirred, his hazy adventures in space that he had dreamt coming to end as his eyes were met with the world of Clara Oswin. Or maybe he realised, as he awoke more and his eyes opened, not the world of Clara Oswin, just Clara Oswin herself.

"Clara?" He whispered, not sure whether the motionless body on top of him was asleep, dead (which seemed unlikely since she had survived much worse than a homely environment and naps) or playing a peculiar game.

When there was no reply it was clear the girl was asleep...on top of him - to his adorable confusion. He didn't know quite what to do, he felt bad about the idea of waking her but on the other hand her dead weight was now becoming more noticeable and he couldn't wait for her to wake up, the boredom would be impossible.

Conclusion, he would try to escape without waking her.

The Doctor knew it was a terrible plan and would almost definitely fail but he had the best of intentions. He lightly pushed up on Clara's shoulders and tried to wiggle away (which only caused friction between the two of them and even if that didn't wake her it would certainly wake him up a bit more). He then decided to sit up using the armrest to support his back. He successfully did this keeping her where she was but not waking her. Now, it would be quite easy to just roll her off but he doubted she wouldn't wake up if he let her fall on the floor. He chose to cradle her like a baby which should keep her in a comfortable position, carry her until he got up and then lie her back down on the sofa and voila! However, this did not go exactly to plan as his delicate touch turned out to be not do delicate and she woke up in his arms with him standing in front if the sofa.

"Ummm, Doctor?" Clara said groggily, 'What are you doing?"

He smiled down at her innocently, she looked precious cradled in his arms half asleep, he saw her lips move but his mind was elsewhere so the words were lost.

"Doctor?" Clara repeated now more awake, "Let me down!"

This time he heard her and fortunately his mind kicked in quickly reminding him not to drop her as she raised her voice but instead place her down carefully, "Sorry, you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you."

He looked guilty, she couldn't help but smile at his face. Then something came over her and she felt the urge to kiss him. She reached up, on her tiptoes and brought her lips to his in a quick but heartfelt kiss.

The blush on his cheeks was priceless and his face of confusion returned, "Clar-"

"Shh," she said quickly, knowing he would spiral into a long-winded question, but this time, instead of bringing her fingers to his face to silence him she brought her lips to his again in another chaste kiss.

Thank you for reading. :)

Written as a oneshot, depending as to the feedback I might continue. I hope you enjoyed it!