In Which The Doctor And Clara Use A Rather Unusual Method To Solve An Argument.
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This was most certainly an awkward position that they found themselves in, but if they were honest, they really didn't seem to mind. But if the finger of blame really needed to be pointed, then it would have been entirely Angie's fault.
Yes, all her fault.
"If it's all the same to you," the Doctor muttered embarrassedly, his face shining almost as red as the bow-tie that he had decided to wear that day, "I would like to suggest another game we could play."
From her strained position just slightly above him, Clara was tempted to tell him no, only Angie beat him to the punch, yelling from the kitchen: "Nope. You're the one that refused to resolve your differences using chess."
The Doctor made a face before looking up at Clara, inwardly admiring how smooth her skin looked. "If you would have just admitted that it was your fault that started the revolution, then we wouldn't be here right now." He muttered, swallowing thickly when Clara looked him dead in the eye and glared at him.
"Excuse me?" she asked icily, shifting slightly to ease the growing ache in her arms from supporting her body weight for so long. "Who was the one that accused the Queen of being a fake?"
"Which she was," the Doctor replied rolling his eyes. He too shifted, moving his feet slightly. He was starting to get a cramp in his left leg.
As he was shifting his feet, he bumped into Clara's own.
Already precariously balanced on the tips of her toes, Clara gave a small gasp as she went crashing down, taking the Doctor with her. They landed in a tangled heap, breath rushing out from their lungs as they tried to scramble off of the other.
Hear the commotion, Angie poked her head in to the lounge room, her eyebrows raising at the sight the Doctor and Clara made, tangled on the floor in front of her. "From what I can see, Clara is the winner."
"What!?" the Doctor yelled, whipping his head around to stare at her incredulously.l
"You touched the floor first." Angie replied, giving a small shrug.
"How is that valid?" the Doctor continued, his hands finding Clara's shoulders.
"Clara is practically laying on top of you." Angie stated in a bored tone and returned to the kitchen.
Spluttering, the Doctor looked at Clara, the both of them sporting matching blushes. They stared at each other for a few seconds before scrambling to stand up. They refused to look at each other as they brushed themselves off, their minds and hearts racing in their chest at what had just happened.
"So…" The Doctor started, the blush fading from his cheeks as he turned to face his companion.
Clara turned her head to regard him and gave a small smile. "Next time we have an argument, could we perhaps agree to disagree?" she asked.
He laughed, the twinkle in his eyes infectious. "I second that motion." He held out his hand for her, his smile growing when she easily twined her fingers around his own. "Besides," he added, casting a scathing glance at the plastic sheet in the middle of the floor in the room, "Twister was never my forte." He added with a sniff.
Clara couldn't help but laugh.
For Anon who wanted the prompt: TWISTER.
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