Hello, everyone! Katierosefun aka Caroline here - and I'm back with a new Whouffaldi story! I had this idea floating around my head for a while now (and I was inspired by a tumblr post with a bunch of RP scenarios and though I'm not really one to RP, I thought the one-liners in the post made for wonderful prompts). I know this story is going to be long (one hundred chapters, phew!) but I fully intend on completing this.
(Also, this sudden release may or may not have something to do with the next Doctor Who episode. I'm not okay. I'm really not.)
Enjoy!
Hidden Message One.
"Pull over; let me drive."
There were some things Clara Oswald could never picture the Doctor doing. One, it was karaoke. Two, it was break-dancing. (Now, that would be an embarrassing sight to witness.) And three, it was driving. Actually driving with an actual car instead of a TARDIS with hands on an actual wheel and foot pressing an actual gas pedal. Clara just never pictured it. Seeing the Doctor driving a car would be like seeing him pretend to be a caretaker again – completely unusual, suspicious, and definitely dangerous.
But when the Doctor had come to Clara this morning, his TARDIS had broken down ("it needs to re-fuel itself – should be better in a few more days," he had grumbled, giving the box something of a pat and an annoyed flick of the fingers), and Clara couldn't stay for the weekend. She had promised one of her old university friends that she'd come over since it had been forever since they'd last talked – and Clara had even got the car ready.
And that was when, completely out of the blue, the Doctor volunteered to drive.
"I was there when the automobile was invented," the Doctor had argued when Clara interjected. "I was there when cars were gotten rid of because of the air pollution it was causing." ("What?" Clara had asked, bewildered. "Long story, way in the future," the Doctor replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.) "I've driven sophisticated, advanced forms of transportation – driving a car is ridiculously easy for me."
It took a fifteen-minute argument, a big thermos of tea, and promises that the Doctor wouldn't do anything stupid to persuade Clara into letting him do the driving.
And to her great surprise, it actually started off decently. Clara was nestled in the shotgun seat, earbuds plugged in and streaming comforting music. She watched cars go up and down the highways as the Doctor drove. Rain started to fall from the grey skies above and Clara eventually turned the music off, instead tuning to the way the windshield wipers squeaked against the car glass and how the rain hit the roof of the car with satisfying drip-drip sounds. She looked over at the Doctor every few minutes, making sure that he was focused and not staring off or thinking about some other place to be.
And the Doctor was focused, never taking his eyes off the road and hands tapping on the wheel. He occasionally drank from the thermos of tea, but besides that, he was mostly still.
"When was the last time you drove a car?" Clara asked at last, not able to take the silence any longer. Whenever she drove by herself, she liked to sing under her breath – not that it was an option right now. The Doctor only took a second to glance over at Clara before returning to the road. "Maybe a few hundred years ago," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "It was a bit of a boring time – I had to drive someone because a cab broke down in the middle of the street and we had to get away from these nasty Zygons – they weren't too friendly. And it's amazing how fast a car engine can go if you urge it enough. Then again, I might have cheated a bit – had to use the sonic."
Clara smiled to herself. "Got it," she said, turning back around to face the front. "But since we're not running from Zygons, you don't have to kill the engine or use the sonic, yeah?"
"Of course not – it'd scare everyone off the highway in minutes and we honestly can't have that. Too much of a trouble, and then everyone will begin making random predictions about the apocalypse just because a car somehow drove everyone off the highway…" the Doctor murmured. Clara snorted. "I don't think that'd be the reason for people to begin ruminating about the apocalypse," she said.
"I don't know – you saw how they were like when they found the Mayan calendar, didn't you? I thought some of them wouldn't shut up." The Doctor shook his head, making a soft tching sound of disapproval. Clara only curled a bit deeper into her seat and listened with some comfort about the Doctor's various encounters with people raving on about the madness of the universe. His voice slowly blended in with the constant pitter-patter of the raindrops and the brush of the air conditioner, and Clara honestly felt more at ease than ever.
xXx
Clara hadn't meant to fall asleep to the Doctor's voice, but she did. She couldn't remember why – maybe it was the way his words seem to blend together (like a wool blanket, not that she'd ever admit that out loud) and the way the rain was dropping against the windows, but Clara slept and didn't wake until night fell.
It was completely dark in the car when Clara woke up with a small intake of breath. She was confused by where she was for a moment, feeling unsecure in a moving vehicle – but after patting around and blinking past the dim lights of other cars beside her, she remembered where exactly she was and how exactly she got into this situation.
And taking a few deeper breaths, Clara turned to look at the Doctor again. His hands were completely still this time – before, they had always been moving (rotating around the wheel, drumming against the surface, fidgeting at the corners) – and judging by his expression, the Doctor hadn't moved in some time. Clara watched silently as he reached for the thermos of tea – only to come short when coming to the realization that it was empty (and Clara knew that, too, because the non-present sounds of tea sloshing inside was a big enough clue) and return to the road.
Clara even waited to see how long it would take for the Doctor to say something like, "I know you're awake", "we're almost there", or maybe something as simple as, "it's still raining."
He didn't.
And when Clara asked, "How long have you been driving?", the Doctor blinked in surprise – he hadn't expected Clara to be awake, either. Pressing her lips together, Clara sat up straighter and threw her jacket off her legs. "Doctor?" she asked quietly. "Aren't you tired by now?"
"No," was the Doctor's instant response. "You know me, Clara – I can stay awake for as long as I wish –"
"Only you get tired sometimes," Clara interrupted gently. "I just saw you – you're not moving around as often as you would; you've drunk the last of the only caffeinated thing in the car; you've got that look that I think I last saw when I was still in university…and that was right before my friend collapsed into bed after going without sleep for four days in a row."
"Gallifreyans don't have looks, Clara – and really, four days?" the Doctor responded bluntly.
"Yeah, but you do now," Clara said, the corner of her lips twitching into a smile. "C'mon – you should pull over. Let me drive."
"I told you before that I was going to drive."
Clara folded her arms across her chest. "Doctor," she explained patiently, "I'm twenty-nine years old. I've been driving since I was eighteen – I know how to drive and I can survive without you driving for a few more hours." The Doctor still didn't stop the car, saying, "You'd be tired."
"I slept enough," Clara replied, shrugging her shoulders. "And to be honest, I think I'm in better shape than you." She watched as the Doctor reached for the thermos yet again – and then come short. "See, there you go," Clara said with a nod at the gesture. "You're tired."
When the Doctor didn't give in, Clara sighed and said quietly, "I'll let you drive the second I feel tired, alright? Now pull over." Clara waited for one minute – then two – then three – and finally, the car came to a slow stop at the side of the road. Smiling, Clara stood and opened her door. She walked around the car and opened the Doctor's side door, letting him out so she could slide into the driver's seat.
When the Doctor had seated himself into the shotgun seat and fastened himself in, Clara took the wheel and started the car back up. She gently pressed the gas pedal and drove for some time before asking, "See, this isn't all that bad, now, is it?" She didn't hear anything from the Doctor.
Sighing, Clara added, "I know you wanted to drive, Doctor – and that's incredibly…" She tried to find the right word. "That's incredibly polite of you," she decided to say (though it sounded too formal and all wrong), and added, "but you ought to take a break once in a while. Let other people do the little things, yeah? Just to show that you don't need to get out of your way to be nice to everyone?" Clara paused and letting herself laugh, she murmured, "Even though you've got a funny way of showing it. You've got to agree with me on that, Doctor."
Still, no response.
Clara frowned. "Doctor?" she called, turning to look over at her friend – and her face instantly softened at the sight sitting before her.
The Doctor had his head tilted slightly back, his eyes closed and his hands clasped over his lap. He took in a deep breath – Clara could see the rise and fall of his chest – and let out a soft sigh as he seemed to sink deeper into sleep. If Clara hadn't been driving, she would've been tempted to do something – maybe smooth back his hair, make him more comfortable…something –
But then a car honked rather rudely at Clara and blinking out of her impossible daydreams, the young woman snapped her eyes back on the road, keeping her hands clutched tight over the wheel. She didn't look at the Doctor again for the rest of the trip.
A/N - I'm not sure how quickly I'll update this. As of now, I'm hoping for at least once a week, but as time rolls by, updates might either slow down/speed up. Let's just see how it goes!
As always, reviews are welcome! Constructive criticism is alright, but flames are not!
