A Not So Quiet Birthday

The phone had been ringing non-stop for the past 144 minutes and 58 seconds. It was driving him beyond mad and that's something coming from a mad man with a box and a screwdriver!

It had all started 144 minutes and 57 seconds ago. An innocent ring. He answered with a grumbled 'hello' to the person on the other end and was met by an ear piercing scream. The girl sounded as if she had just received a gift that she always wanted for Christmas and so when she was able to calm down a bit, she merely said "Happy Birthday, Peter!" and hung up.

There was only one thing circling inside the Doctor's mind – who the heck is Peter? He brushed off the strange phone call, telling himself that it was simply a case of dialing the wrong number.

Well, exactly two seconds later, the phone rang again. He picked it up and the same thing happened. Almost. This time, the person on the other end was a lot calmer but she said the same thing. Something along the lines of "Happy Birthday, Peter. I hope you'll have a pleasant one." By the fourth phone call, he stopped answering.

Now, as he stood right in front of the console, trying to ignore the ringing noise- he tried to think how it was possible for so many people to get his number. The phone was still ringing, taunting him in a way. The Doctor scowled at it as if his angry demeanor would somehow stop it from functioning. Maybe his attack eyebrows will do the trick.

The screen in front of him suddenly beeped. He looked up and saw the message Clara had sent him. That was when he noticed the ringing had stopped. Maybe it was Clara all this while who had been trying to contact him. He was Doctor Idiot indeed.

The phone rang again. He answered it immediately, thinking it was his Clara.

"Hello, Doctor! Hope you've had a busy day relishing in on all those wonderful birthday wishes!" the Scottish accent was uncanny. He knew exactly who it was and how this whole nonsense came about.

"Lost for words? I know I would too." Her grin was audible.

The Doctor sighed. Of course it was Missy behind all this. "Please tell me you didn't give my number to random strangers who think I'm Peter-"

"Oh, believe me Doctor, I didn't give your number out to strangers. No, let's just say I gave it to your… fans, shall we say?"

"What? Missy! This isn't a game. You can't just give my number to-"

"Relax, you daft man. I didn't tell them it was yours. Told them it was someone else's. Why do you think they're calling you Peter and freaking out like the fan-girls they are?"

The Doctor placed a palm on the receiver and said, "Yes, fellow readers, I know exactly who portrays me- Peter Capaldi."

"Do I really want to know why you're doing this?"

There was a pause on the other end. He could have sworn he heard Missy rolling her eyes. "To make your birthday more fun, of course! A thank you would have been nice instead of being cross with me. Anyway, gotta go. There's places to be and living things to troll. Many happy returns of the day, Doctor!"

The next thing he heard was a long beeping noise. He sighed and entered the coordinates for Clara's flat and pulled down the lever. As the TARDIS started materializing, the Doctor grabbed his guitar, wondering why she had asked him to bring his cherished guitar and walked out the time machine. He was greeted by the sight of her living room.

"Clara?" he called out.

"In the kitchen! I'll be with you in a moment. Have a seat and do not sonic anything, Doctor."

He let out a chuckle before plopping down on the sofa. "Yes, boss."

Two second later, he was already feeling bored. "Do you need any help in the kitchen?"

"No, Doctor. Just stay put. It's almost done."

The Doctor could smell something burning and it was coming from the kitchen. "Clara…"

"Happy Birthday, Doctor!" she said, walking in with a chocolate soufflé in her hands. Well, it was slightly burned and he wasn't much of a fan of birthdays but the Doctor couldn't help but grin. There was nothing (except Clara) he loved more than chocolate. This face has a sweet tooth indeed.

Clara set the treat on the coffee table before giving him a hug and a kiss on his cheek.

"You didn't really have to do this, Clara."

"Daft old man. It's your birthday – you should at least get a special treat. And I got you something too."

He gave her a look. "Clara..."

She pulled out a round black box from a drawer and handed it to him.

The Doctor unwrapped it and opened the box. He grinned at the present. It now made sense why she had asked him to bring his guitar. She got him a guitar pick but it wasn't any normal guitar pick. Of course not. For one, it had the same shade of blue as the TARDIS. Two, number '12' engraved on the front and on the back, 'Happy Birthday' was written.

"Thank you, Clara Oswald."

"You're welcome, Doctor."

Both had spent the rest of the evening in each other's company. Clara listening to whatever the Doctor was playing on his guitar but later on, they had ended up watching all three of the Toy Story films. Halfway through Toy Story 3, the Doctor realized that she had fallen asleep and so he switched off the TV with his sonic screwdriver, deciding to get some rest himself.

"Happy Birthday, Doctor."

He smiled at her before kissing her head. With Clara curled up to his side, resting her head on his shoulder, the Doctor thought that his birthday and birthdays in general weren't so bad after all.

The End.

Happy 58th birthday, Peter! You're awesome! :D