Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, and you probably already knew that.
The T.A.R.D.I.S. had had quite enough of all of the fruitless flirting going on between her walls lately. It was quite painful for her to watch, really, despite the fact that she was merely an only-slightly-sentient machine made of wood and metal and Timelord tech. She was positive that, had she been a squishy, fully-functional, feeling being, this is what pain would feel like.
It was about time that she took matters into her own hands.
Well, if she had hands, that is.
The T.A.R.D.I.S. door swung open and light showered the room as the Doctor escorted Clara in, arm out. The sounds of the planet outside evaporated as they stepped inside.
"That was quite fun," remarked Clara as she settled against the console. "Y'know, never once in my 24 years did I think I'd ever dance with a talking baby giraffe."
The Doctor grinned. "The world is full of surprises. Or universe, that is."
"Though to be honest, I suspect that's a bit what it'd be like to dance with you."
"Oi!" The grin morphed into a mock pout. "I am not a talking baby giraffe! Or a giraffe at all, for that matter."
Clara raised her eyebrows in response.
The Doctor continued. "You're just, all… short. And small. And nobody dances like me." He straightened his bow tie proudly.
The tips of Clara's mouth curled upwards. "That's probably a good thing."
The T.A.R.D.I.S. tittered and the Doctor frowned.
"See?" Clara patted the console. "She agrees."
"Nope, nope, that's not what she's saying," replied the Doctor, tapping his head. "I can communicate with her. Telepathically. She's saying - she's saying -" he walked to Clara and leaned over her, his ear tilted downwards as if the machine were to speak. He didn't see his friend blush.
It's go time, thought the T.A.R.D.I.S.
He stood up, hands on hips. "She says it's go time. What's that supposed to mean?"
In response, music began to blare out of the hidden speakers scattered about the room.
"...but there's something about her
And you don't know why but you're dying to try
You wanna kiss the girl..."
Clara grew still as the song played. That was a bit odd.
"Um, that's a bit odd," the Doctor voiced her thoughts. "Speakers must be malfunctioning." He moved away from Clara and pressed a few buttons at random.
"...My, oh, my, look at the boy too shy, he ain't gonna kiss the girl
Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad..." The T.A.R.D.I.S. beeped in enjoyment. This was fun.
"I didn't know it could play music," mused Clara.
"I dunno why she's doing that, that's usually... Not..." He forced a laugh and side-kicked the console, hissing, "I know exactly what you're doing, old girl, and it's not going to happen."
"What's not?" Clara asked as she walked towards her friend, landing square in front of him.
"Haha! What? Nothing." The Doctor flicked his hands out and leaned against the console in an attempt to be casual. "Nothing's not going to happen."
Yeah, it better not, thought the T.A.R.D.I.S. dryly.
"Doctor, you do know that you're two feet away from me and that I can hear everything you say, even when you whisper?" Clara raised an eyebrow playfully. "You said, 'it's not going to happen.'"
"Did I? Can't remember."
The lighting suddenly dimmed to a deep, dark glow.
"Oh. That's... A bit... Odd." The Doctor pushed the button to raise the lights, to no avail. He pushed it again.
Instead, there was a sudden shift in the size and shape of the room and the pair suddenly found themselves standing pressed rather close together. The T.A.R.D.I.S. tittered once more.
"T.A.R.D.I.S. room stabilizer must be-" the Timelord squeaked before clearing his throat. "-malfunctioning," he finished in an exaggeratedly deep voice.
The Doctor tugged on his bow tie. "Is it a bit hot in here?"
The teasing song blared on as the T.A.R.D.I.S. nicked the temperature up degree by degree. Why weren't they getting it?
"Doctor," Clara said to her friend's chest, her voice muffled. She craned her neck upwards to see his face and the Doctor shivered at her breath on his neck. "You can communicate with the T.A.R.D.I.S. telepathically, yeah?"
"Yes."
"And she responds to what you think, right?"
"Yes. Well, that and what I feel. It's a bit complicated."
Clara nodded slowly, carefully. "So you're thoughts and... And feelings, then... Are making all this happen?"
"Ye- no!" He protested, rambling, "No, no, no, no, no. What? No. Don't be ridiculous. Not like I wanted this to happen, I - I - I'm not usually one for... Close contact."
"Oh." She blinked.
The Doctor continued unnecessarily, beginning to shout over the song. "I mean, especially not with you. You're too bossy, and wear dresses too often, and short, and pretty - did I say pretty? I meant, um, funny. No, not funny. I meant... What I meant was..."
"Oh, yeah, I totally get it," Clara shouted back. "Just friends here, yeah? Nothing more. Not like I'd like to be anything more. I mean, you're, like, what, a thousand years older than me? Talk about dysfunctional relationship!"
"Haha, yes!" They both laughed really, really, really, REALLY loudly and EXTREMELY enthusiastically.
If the T.A.R.D.I.S. had had a head, she would've banged it on her own wall. Instead, she popped out three lit candles from the compartments surrounding the console and turned the music to smooth jazz. Perfect.
The pair grew quiet.
"I mean," Clara shrugged and the lack of space between her and the Doctor suddenly seemed much more apparent, "unless you wanted to."
"Which you don't of course," she added quickly.
"Well, you'd have to settle for me first," the Doctor tried to say casually.
"I'd say that first you'd have to settle for me," replied his companion quietly with a chuckle.
Yes, so close now, thought the T.A.R.D.I.S. Kiss her, Doctor! You know you want to. You want to kiss her. You're looking at her lips now, yes, I can see that, now you definit-
"-Shut up!" The Doctor suddenly shouted, and Clara jumped.
"Oh. I'm sorry. Did I upset you?" She sounded offended.
"What?! No! Not you. Don't shut up. Keep talking. Keep talking to me. Don't stop." Oops. Maybe he'd taken that a tad too far.
"Um..." Clara swallowed and scooted away as much as the tiny, boxed in space allowed. "Doctor, if you're thinking anything..."
"No! No, no, no. Not like that. Not thinking that. I'm not even thinking at all. Head's completely empty."
Yes it is, grumbled the T.A.R.D.I.S.
"Okay."
"Not at all," he reconfirmed.
"Alright."
"Nothing."
"Got it."
"Well, unless..."
Clara frowned and gave a small shout of indignance before slapping him square in the face.
His mouth flew open and he shook his head from side to side. "Okay! Not! Totally joking! Sorry!" He flinched and leaned away.
The T.A.R.D.I.S. beeped and the monitor swung out, whacking the Doctor in the back of the head as well.
"Oh, so now you're moving, OW!" The Doctor shouted in exasperation.
The T.A.R.D.I.S. sighed, giving up. The room shifted once more, slowly, begrudgingly.
"Go on, then, get a move on," the frazzled Timelord ordered.
"Hm, well that was certainly unexpected," Clara commented casually, "if not a bit odd."
"Yes, well. Space Florida?" The Doctor asked, suddenly changing the subject.
"Oh." She paused. "Alright then."
"Great. Cool. Okay." The Doctor agreed, busying himself at the console. To his surprise he felt vaguely disappointed. For what, he wasn't sure.
"Um, Doctor." Clara began before abruptly stopping.
He turned around expectantly. Hopefully. "Yes?"
She swallowed and shrugged. "Nothing."
The Doctor stared at her for a few moments before turning back to the console. "Alright."
He frowned and busied himself silently, pressing buttons and twirling twirlies here and there.
What do you want? The Timelord asked himself. What are you looking for?
The T.A.R.D.I.S. whirred on, quietly listening to his thoughts.
You know you can't feel this way about... certain people, he continued. Just don't. You'll lose them all in the end. You know that.
He felt a hand on his shoulder.
You can't.
It slid down his arm smoothly, interlocking with his own hand.
Don't...
He spun around.
Well, maybe just this once.
Anyone else FLIPPING OUT ABOUT HOW DOCTOR WHO RETURNS SO SOON?!
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- Impossible Oswin
