He awoke in the night with a growling stomach and dragged himself out of bed to go search the kitchen for a remedy. She was there, crouched over the dimly lit dining table and staring intently at something he couldn't see. She didn't seem to notice his entrance, so he assumed she was reading as usual. Clara adored books. She had loads of time to read them since she rarely was able to sleep a wink. "Nightmares," she would respond curtly whenever he questioned her chronic exhaustion.
Grinning mischievously, the Doctor tip-toed toward her chair and lashed out playfully to tickle her waist. Clara gasped with shock, gave his groping hands several frantic slaps, and whirled around in her chair to deliver her best "There is no way in Hell you are receiving any sex for a week" glare. The Doctor chuckled at her fury and removed his hands from her waist, instead moving to place them on her cheeks and bending to peck her swiftly on the lips.
"All in good fun, Clara," he assured her as her scowl softened into a smirk.
"You ought not to sneak up on me like that, you know. I'm quite agile. You could have lost a few teeth back there."
"I'll be a bit more careful next time. What's that you're reading?"
Clara shifted nervously, blocking the path between the book on the table and the Doctor, who was leaning every which way in an attempt to snag a few peeks at the contents of the open page. Muttering a terse "Nothing," she stole the book from the tabletop in a single swoop, clutched it to her chest, and pushed past her somewhat bewildered companion. She marched out of the kitchen before he could even bid her a good night, the sound of her footsteps on the metallic corridor floors fading within a few seconds.
The Doctor hesitated at the table for a moment, deliberating whether or not he should be concerned about Clara's reaction to his inquiry, but he quickly determined that stranger things had happened in his company. Her sudden egress had likely been a product of sleep deprivation and lingering hysteria as a result of his tickle attack. She was probably reading one of her more romantic books that she didn't like for him to see on account of the graphic lovemaking scenes they often contained. Personally, he thought her affinity for such things was quite adorable and sexy, but she was embarrassed by it. She hated for people to assume things about her based on her novel selection.
Shrugging, he headed for the walk-in pantry and began scouring the peach-colored shelves for something he could eat without having to spend an hour grueling over a stove. He settled on a handful of assorted breakfast bars he'd nicked from a refueling station in the X-23 asteroid belt. It was nearly morning, so he decided those would tide him over until lunchtime, whenever and wherever that may be.
Incidentally, lunchtime ended up being in the year 3180 at a quaint, only slightly radioactive cafe in Vancouver. Clara had once expressed a keen interest in Canada, so the Doctor whisked her off to the 32nd century to see the nation at its Platinum Age.
"Platinum Age? Was 'Golden Age' already taken?" She asked through a mouthful of some unidentifiable sandwich-like meal which tasted faintly of metal and whiskey.
"Actually, yes, but that's beside the point. This is Canada's most technologically advanced period! They've harnessed an ultra-dense subatomic chemical from large, previously untapped sources of platinum and launched the most extraordinary industrial revolution this Earth has ever seen. Clothing, cars, houses, food... It's all mass produced from these brilliant platinum factories that stretch for miles!"
Clara grimaced and set her meal down slowly.
"Unemployment is at an impeccable zero percent! Canadian quality of life is off the charts! Manned rockets crafted entirely from this platinum ore are being launched from the coast as we speak, destined to traverse the stars and ultimately lead the human race to assemble its first successful colonies on asteroids! Amazing, Canada! Truly amazing!" The Doctor gushed in between bites of his own food, which he appeared to be completely unphased by.
They roamed the streets of the city for hours, marveling at the towering architecture and the glistening metallic streets. Clara gazed with wide, brown eyes as the Doctor pointed her in the direction of a public wi-fi station larger than her home, a flea market which actually sold various assortments of mechanical fleas, and more sleek hovercrafts than she could possibly count. He introduced her to a 32nd century police officer who complimented her "vintage" clothing style and invited her for a ride on his levitating motorbike.
"Not today, officer! She's already got one of those!" The Doctor declared with a wink before skirting Clara off to less flirtatious company.
By the time evening came along, the pair had settled down in a colorful ice cream parlor and treated themselves to silvery sundaes. It was wildly hot outside, much to Clara's confusion. She'd always imagined Canada as a chilly place. The Doctor explained that the combination of an immense global temperature rise and a trend of coating entire cities with reflective metal led to a grave climate change which would wipe the whole of North America right off the map in less than a thousand years.
"Seriously? So, this country's Platinum Age is actually its last age altogether? We're basically sitting in a graveyard, eating sweets?" She inquired solemnly, shoving her ice cream to the side in disgust.
"No, no, no, no, no! Not at all! The land will be destroyed, yes, but these people... Oh, how they live! You see, Clara, they leave this Earth behind and colonize a new one, carrying the triumphs of this era of history on their backs as they branch out among the stars! They live gloriously! This isn't a graveyard, Clara. It's a museum! Perhaps the most important museum in human history!"
Beaming, Clara glanced around at the other people in the shop, her heart swelling with pride. In all of her two years traveling in the TARDIS, she'd never ceased to be amazed by her own race and its ability to continue to thrive despite all the odds. With the Doctor, she'd witnessed mass extinctions and violent planetary collapses. She'd watched stars burn out and leave millions of species helpless in absolute darkness. She'd even seen a solar system populated with what the Doctor described as "the most intelligent beings in the universe" be swallowed within a matter of seconds by a menacing black hole.
But she'd never seen the human race so much as falter in its steps.
"So, is this even edible? I mean, it's metal, isn't it?" She changed the subject suddenly, gesturing toward her rapidly melting sundae.
With his own spoon dangling out of the corner of his mouth, the Doctor yanked his sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket and scanned Clara's dish with it.
"Seems alright! Not too many free radicals! Zero radiation! Tastes brilliant!"
Clara shrugged and returned to eating the frozen, glittering sludge. He was right; it did taste rather brilliant.
As the time traveler and his dazed companion enjoyed their sugary suppers in silence, a sinister mass of dark figures moved swiftly in the shadows dozens of miles away in a dreary suburb. Black as night, they scaled the streets unnoticed, uttering no words and leaving no footprints. They glided past open windows which framed cheerful, unsuspecting families going about their dinner plans. Occasionally, they stopped abruptly in front of a house and froze for a while before turning away, as if they weren't satisfied with what they saw.
At one point, the clan swerved into a narrow driveway and huddled on the patio in a tight semi-circle around the front door. There was no light emitting from the house, and the curtains were all drawn. Passerby might have mistaken it for a vacant property. But it wasn't nearly empty, and the mysterious hoard of shadows discreetly breaking into the foyer seemed to be well aware of that.
If the neighbors had been listening to the sounds of the night, they might have heard a shrill scream and the piercing sound of glass shattering into a thousand pieces. They might have seen the shadows emerge from the stilled house, clutching a whimpering, struggling little bundle in a thin blanket. They might have felt a minor quake as the figures disappeared into the blackness in a flash. And, if they had listened intently enough, they might have heard the sickening cries of a young mother, frozen, bloody, naked, and trembling with the shock of being forcefully torn from her newborn child.
But suburbia slept soundly that night, blissfully unaware of the evils that had slyly penetrated its sanctity only hours before.
Author's note: Hello, folks! I have several chapters of this already written, and I'm quite proud of it so far! I hope it turns out to be as exciting to read as it has been to write. I have really huge plans for this WIP, and I intend to update it once a week. I'm hoping you'll enjoy and follow this! Thanks, and please, feel free to review and let me know what you think about it thus far! xx