Glaviote

It was a slow day in the TARDIS which was not the norm by any means. The Doctor wasn't feeling any inspiration after visiting a planet in the Third Realm that reminded him of his home. Clara hates seeing him like this, he was her role model, her inspiration, her best friend. She was determined to find a way to cheer him up again, or else she fears she may die of boredom.

"What's your favorite color?" She asks brightly, the first thing that popped into her head. "Uh Glaviote I suppose, though it's so hard to choose." He responds, in which Clara was taken aback "Glavi-what?" She asks. "Glaviote, I forgot that color doesn't exist to humans. It was an important color at my home, the color of our planet's core, our most vibrant flowers, and it's the color of every child's eyes when they are first born. It's truly beautiful." He smiles as he looks at her, but Clara notices that it never quite reaches his eyes. His eyes are sad, dark, same eyes that were once … Glaviote … some hundreds of years ago.

She needed a way to make him smile. He feels nostalgic, maybe if she could make him feel at home here with her; the Doctor wouldn't feel so upset and alone. His home isn't as he remembers it, but he still has a home here on Earth and the TARDIS, and with her.

Then she remembers something from her childhood that her mom used to do to her. No matter how upset or hurt she was, it always brightened her mood and made her smile.

"Doctor, are you ticklish?" She asks hesitantly, he seems surprised - and slightly nervous - by the odd question. "I'm absolutely not Clara. Why do you ask?" She grins in response and moves towards him, in which he moves away just as fast.

"Mind if I test that?" She asks slyly. "Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact I do. If you'll excuse me." The Doctor tries to walk past her but she starts squeezing his sides mercilessly as he passes and he collapses onto the floor in hysterical laughter.

"CLAHAHAHARA STOHOHOHOP THIHIHIS PLEAHAHAHASE!" He yells as he scrambles backwards in a futile attempt to escape her fingers. He's a thousand year old, unbelievably powerful member of a species whose intellect is superior to all of the universe; but he's taken down in 3 seconds by tickling.

"But you're smiling Doctor!" Clara responds giggling as his face goes red while she scribbles up and down his sides. She eases her fingers easily around his body as he helplessly attempts to swat at her while simultaneously trying to protect his sensitive spots - which were everywhere.

But under his fight and his pleas were something else, something … happy. The Doctor was happy.

She continued to tickle him for another 15 minutes while he halfheartedly 'fought' her. She could tell he was enjoying himself despite how ticklish he was. His eyes were bright and his laughter was genuine. His attempts to push her away were weak and effortless; just a show.

He needed this.

But eventually his face started to turn red, it was obvious both his hearts were beating very fast.

She notices that despite him looking exhausted, he also looked rather disappointed that it was over. She makes an internal promise to do these kind of things more often, they will be a great point of entertainment

and amusement as well.

"You dwindle-bug!" The Doctor gasps out, still pretending to be upset. Clara plays along, knowing his pride is quite fragile. "Yes, I'm a dwindle-bug. Whatever that means." She laughs.

"It means, it means you're ... I don't know I made it up." He mumbles, picking himself up off the floor.

"You know, for a dangerous, trained, experienced warrior of the galaxy; you're kinda adorable Doctor." Clara says, relishing when the Doctor becomes red at her words.

"That's besides the point, we have a Galway to see." He counters, changing the subject while walking to the control panel.

Clara doesn't complain, at least now she won't die of boredom and her Doctor was back. His smile was full swing and his once-Glaviote eyes were shining once more.

They needed each other, neither could fully function without the other. They both know it, but neither feel the need to say it. Maybe they're too scared to admit it. Maybe they're too uncertain of what it could become. Or maybe they're just too content to bother mentioning it.

The Doctor picks a random place in the Galaxy, smiles at his friend, and they start their aimless journey once more.