"WHAT ARE YOU, EH? A TRICK? A TRAP?" The Doctor yelled, shaking Clara by her shoulders. His voice echoed in her head, scaring her and jolting her awake from her nightmare. She sat up in her hammock and looked around. Empty. The floor above her creaked, surely the Doctor was overhead tending to the TARDIS and the console room. She wasn't even sure that the Doctor ever slept. Rarely he would be under the console room, sitting across from her sleeping hammock, and reading a book when she awoke. Though, for the most part, she often found the Doctor above in the console room after her slumber.
Inhaling deeply, Clara clambered out from her hammock and quickly dressed. It felt as though she had enough sleep, but she was unsure. Traveling with the Doctor threw off her sense of time. Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours, into days, weeks, and months- all of which converged, blended, and melded together into a big boiling pot of time. She couldn't tell whether it was day or night inside the TARDIS. Her sense of time was just one big blur, spinning rapidly around her. It confused her greatly, but it was all entirely worth the confusion to be able to be spending time with an alien spaceman. Contrary to belief, time traveling gave a cause to losing track of time.
With light footsteps, Clara climbed the short staircase up toward the console room in which the Doctor stood, back facing her. He fiddled with buttons and levers; every once in a while he leaned forward to read the screen. She stood quietly, feet planted on the top and final step of the stairs with her arms hanging by her sides. Do not trust him, there is a sliver of ice in his heart. Clara remembered what Emma Grayling had told her not too long ago, or what felt like not too long ago. There was a pang of fear, but Clara quickly brushed it away. There was nothing to fear. She felt safe with the Doctor, even though the previous night he had been acting weird- asking her if she felt safe with him by rating her amount of security. Ignoring her thoughts, she cleared her throat for the Doctor's attention. He spun around and their eyes met.
"You're up early!" He exclaimed, throwing his long arms up into the air while walking over to her. "What do you want for breakfast… lunch… or possibly dinner? It's all up to you. You can have whatever you want! We've got all of time and space for a meal!"
"How do you know when I'm up early? How can you tell?"
"I've been traveling for over 900 years, Clara. I just know." Clara stared at the Doctor, in awe but also in skepticism. "So what are you in the mood for? French pastries? Italian pasta? How about some American cereal coated in organic milk? Oh! I know this little planet that serves really good skewered Kamptons- they're sort of like snails, but more… slimy and slippery."
"Well, I don't want any of those Kamptons."
"They're high in protein! They only squirm a little while you chew!"
"That definitely hasn't convinced me. Any chance we could go eat somewhere with something less slimy and slippery?"
"Ok, ok. I know just the place!" The Doctor yelled, running back over to the controls. He pushed a few buttons and cranked a lever. The TARDIS jolted, throwing Clara off balance. She always forgot about the sudden jolt whenever the Doctor changed the TARDIS's course. She turned her body as she lurched for the staircase railing, but her fingers barely grazed the metal. The floor got closer and closer as her body tensed up, bracing for the landing. She felt two hands grip her shoulders and the pressure from the arms pull her back up. The Doctor spun her around, her shoulders still in his grips. "You alright, Clara?"
"Yeah, fine." She breathed, "Forgot about the TARDIS jolt." She looked down at his hands still clutching her shoulders and looked back up at the Doctor, making eye contact. He quickly released her from his grasp and smiled sheepishly. She smiled back in return. His face softened, turning his awkward smile into one of authenticity.