(Author's Note: First fanfic I've written! Just a quick drabble that I needed to write. Kinda AU. I'm an American so sorry if I get any terminology wrong! Enjoy!)
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS OR DOCTOR WHO (obviously), it all belongs to the BBC.
"The TARDIS doesn't hate you, I promise!" The Doctor tried to convince Clara as she followed him around the console while he fidgeted with levers.
"The stupid old cow teleported my room as I was stepping into it! I landed in a pool that wasn't deep enough to kill me, but just enough to scare me to death. I swore I could hear it laughing when I reached the surface. The only explanation to the sick jokes is that your snogbox is trying to get rid of me," Clara said, trying to counter the Timelord's defense.
"If the TARDIS was trying to scare you, you would've been gone by now. Plus, she even gave you a sonic pen. She's never given any of my companions anything up until you. That means you're special," he pointed out, pausing their dizzying walk around the console to bop his companion's nose.
It was true that the TARDIS had given Clara a sonic pen (nobody had a single clue why it had to be a pen instead of a screwdriver, much to The Doctor's annoyance), it was only logical that after being able to snap the TARDIS doors open and shut, Clara would get some kind of a gift. She seemed to have some sort of connection to the time machine.
But nothing could make Clara Oswald waver.
"Why are you trying to side with the TARDIS, anyway? It's just a machine that does the job- like a computer does- but sometimes, machines can go wrong and kill someone that it doesn't like. I wonder if that sounds familiar at all?" Clara asked as they continued their endless revolution. The Doctor decided to stay silent so she asked with a raised eyebrow, "Why do you keep calling the snogbox a she?"
"Because the TARDIS is a she. She is a sentient being that takes hundreds of years to even understand the most basic of signals that she emits. She's not just a machine, she's what's been saving me time and time again," The Doctor explained defensively, putting soul into each word he was saying. He had even stopped clamoring around the console and stood in front of Clara with his arm flapping about as he talked.
Clara rolled her eyes and dropped her 'Snogbox is probably going to kill me' argument and snickered, "Fell in love with the snogbox have we?" Knowing this would probably lead to another long debate, she made her way to the door of the TARDIS.
The Doctor huffed, "The TARDIS is my time machine. No time traveler in the history of time travelers have even thought of falling in love with their time traveling devices, I'll have you know Clara Oswald."
"Oh, now you're all cross about what I said. Don't worry Doctor, I'm sure you don't love your snogbox," she said with a smirk.
"Of course I love the TARDIS!" The Doctor bellowed, but paused and frowned when he realized that he had fallen into her trap. As a last ditch effort to save himself, he tried to turn the conversation around and said, "Why do you even keep calling her a snogbox?"
By then, Clara had already exited the TARDIS and was a few meteres outside. She spun 'round on her heels and walked back into the TARDIS.
"I call your TARDIS the snogbox," Clara began, a mere few centimeters away from The Doctor, a finger pointing at his face, "is because that's what it is."
Even though she was only a few centimeters away from him, The Doctor crossed his arms fitfully and whined, "I don't get it! How come it's always puzzles and riddles with you?" His quiff in the front of his hair flopping as he spoke, "Don't answer that!"
"Good, we can think about more pressing matters. We need to explore the market to see if we can get some ingredients for my soufflés that I'm going to bake," Clara declared after she had lowered her finger and crossed the doorway out of the TARDIS.
If it weren't for the next thing that he said, he could've got through the day unhurt.
"You mean we have to shop for ingredients in the most boring place ever? The supermarket? For you to burn more innocent soufflés in the process?" The Doctor whined, accidently letting the last part slip.
That last sentence had got him a slap in the face.
Clara led herself into the market with The Doctor, the oldest living being in all time and space in tow, kicking and screaming.
Honestly, he could pass off as the oldest five year old that's hair flopped when he spoke and thought bowties were cool the universe has ever been blessed with.