Hullo.
I didn't know whether to class this as angst. What do you think?
I don't own Doctor Who.
Enjoy...
"Hey – Clara!"
The Doctor sat in his mechanic's swing (as he had taken to calling it) working on the TARDIS. He was tinkering with wires and tubes, boxy things – machine stuff; really, Clara didn't have a clue what he was doing. A blue glow lit his face and reflected off those round glasses he liked to wear.
"Yeah," she answered. "What's up?"
"Pass me that," the Doctor indicated to what 'that' was with his head. Clara pulled a wire from the octopus like tangle and passed it to the Doctor.
"What are you doing?" Clara asked.
He fiddled with it for a minute before answering with a grin, "I don't know yet…"
Clara laughed although she feared for her safety and the Doctor's for that matter. The Time Lord twirled it between his fingers and connected it with another; it was a bad idea for as soon as the two ends touched a shower of sparks flew up like a small firework. Startled, the Doctor wobbled on his swing and his glasses fell off.
"Agh!" He shouted, grabbing frantically at the air.
Clara's arm shot out. The spectacles landed safely in her palm which was now hovering over an open hatch out of witch wires were spilling onto the floor. She brought them closer to her face to check for damage. Each circular lens was just as it was before, not a fault.
The Doctor righted himself and Clara handed the glasses back. The Doctor smiled and seemingly careless placed them in his pocket. "Thanks," the Doctor said.
Clara could see that something was wrong. When he thought that he had lost those glasses there was so much panic in his eyes, like a mother who thought she would never see her child again. And then as she had given them back he looked so relieved and sighed happily when he thought she couldn't see. The Doctor was a strange man, Clara knew that. But this was weird even for him. Why was he so protective over a pair of glasses?
"Sure," Clara relied with a frown. "Why do you wear those glasses? You don't need them."
"They're cool," he said, trying to make a joke of the situation, although, there was a slight defensiveness lacing his words. "My glasses are cool."
Clara knew she had hit a nerve, the Doctor turned back to what he had been doing before the that-wire-should-not-go-there incident. "Whatever you say…" She replied jokingly just as the Doctor had done.
Clara turned away and headed for the kitchen. "How does Cup-a-Soup for tea sound?"
"Delicious!"
Maybe the Doctor would tell her another time. Then again the Doctor was a complicated man; it was more likely she'd never know. Just another thing to add to the list.
Those odd little glasses.
~ The End ~
Thank you for reading. Review maybe? Please...
