Clara jolted awake, whacking her head on the wall as her bedroom door was forced open after some buzzing from that bloody screwdriver. Why did she even bother with the lock?
The Doctor emerged from behind the door, balancing a tray of breakfast food in one hand.
"Happy Mother's Day!"
Clara was suddenly even more awake. Her eyes widened, caught somewhere between amusement, annoyance and fear of the Scottish temper tantrum that might result if she corrected him.
"You're doing that thing with your eyes again. Stop it; it's disturbing."
Clara sighed and rubbed the back of her head as the Doctor set the tray unceremoniously on her lap.
"I hope you like it. It took me a bloody hour to clear the Drashig larvae out of the oven."
Clara decided not to ask.
"Uh, Doctor…" she began tentatively, "I'm not … I don't have any children. You know that." She tried for a gentle, yet slightly prodding tone.
Clara really hoped she was right. She shuddered at the sudden flashbacks to the Doctor's regeneration, hoping he wasn't going to start mistaking her for Strax again.
"Yes, I know that," he replied, rolling his eyes. "What has that got to do with anything?"
"It's Mother's Day."
"Don't all you humans celebrate it? Like a general acknowledgement of mothers? Everyone has a mother."
His expression quickly changed to one of alarm as he realized what he had said.
"Uh, I mean…"
His hands flailed about for a moment before he gave up. Where were those blasted cue cards when he really needed them?
"Don't worry about it," Clara interjected quickly, pushing the memories away before she could think about them too hard. "And usually, only the mothers get gifts. Not that I mind you making me breakfast, though," she laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
His hand shot out before she could take the piece of toast she had been reaching for.
"In that case, I'm keeping the breakfast."
He turned around just as Clara's eyes were beginning to narrow.
"You can have the eggs. I don't like them."