Chapter 3
The Doctor and Clara found themselves being taken by the TARDIS to tribal East Malaysia, to sort things out. The Doctor accidentally offended the natives who had been watching them, and got them both into trouble. Reference to Ten and Rose and more fluffiness in this chapter! Enjoy my dears :) One shot coming soon.
The Doctor kicked viciously at the villagers surrounding him – something he would never do – but they had taken his Clara, and he refused to be taken as well. He was going to save his Impossible Girl. Because I always do, he thought to himself. They got the message, but hauled him off as well in the same direction they'd taken Clara with a bag over her head. From the way she fell limp, the Doctor gathered it had been soaked in something. A chill ran down his spine. His Clara had been taken.
They found themselves in a dark dungeon of sorts. It was definitely old – cobwebs thickly spread across corners, unnameable bugs scuttling across the floor. The villagers discussed something for a while; the TARDIS translated to him, and they were arguing over where to put them and what to do with them. He smiled. Stubborn people, Malaysians, he thought to himself with a nostalgic smile. Lovely, hospitable, and clever, but stubborn.
The men left a bowl of not-too-bad-looking soup with not-too-bad-looking bread beside it on a wooden plate of sorts, although it was more of a slab, and vacated the room. The second the door shut he ripped the bag almost violently off Clara's head and cradled her in his arms affectionately. You dear little thing. I got us into trouble again. But I will get us out of this, he promised her mentally.
I was born to save the Doctor. He's helping someone defeat an Absorbalof, but he looks different again. I leave him to it, no saving needs to be done today. He'll be okay, as long as the blonde girl stays with him.
But she won't. None of them do.
The Doctor started when Clara awoke with a gasp. She settled into his arms (she's in his arms!), turned around to smile at him and said, "You're aware that you're holding me, I suppose?" She cocked an eyebrow, and he grinned at her. "You're awake!" he said cheerfully.
A splitting pain in Clara's head makes her wince. The Doctor moved Clara to a lying down position with her head in his lap, and ran his fingers through her hair soothingly. Her breath slowed, and after a few minutes her eyes opened. "I had another moment, Doctor," she told him, and placed a hand on his cheek, where stubble had started to peek from his soft skin. He nodded. "What did you remember?" he asked gently. "It was just a passing memory," she told him, quelling his concern with a single reassuring look. "Just a nice memory of you ridding some poor man of a terribly overweight creature that absorbed his food! A... An absorb-thingy. Absorbaling? Absorb... alof? Is that right Doctor?"
He nodded again. He remembered that day; the Doctor was never one to forget adventures. "What do we do now?" she asked softly. He grinned.
"I have a plan."
"And what's that? You try to sneak us out of here and get us killed and spiked on a stick instead?"
"Well it was, but without the getting killed part."
She was thoughtful for a moment. "That door's not locked, I don't think – which means they don't consider us prisoners here – which means they like us!" he exclaimed, and she gave him a questioning look. The Doctor grunted, and continued, "Well they at least don't hate us. It could be worse, they could be cannibals, a religious cult with sacrificial tendencies, or-"
"Doctor? Not helping."
"Ah."
He clasped his hands together and stuck his index finger up to indicate and idea. After whipping out the sonic, he waved it at the door, which popped open quietly. They hurried through, but Clara stopped a little way down the corridor, and beckoned to him to listen. "They'll know... I mean we're dressed differently and we're... too pale, they'll catch us," she whispered in his ear. He nodded, and whipped out the bottle of spray tan the TARDIS gave them with his famous wobbly grin.
"Told you. The TARDIS never gives us things without the need for them."
"Whatever, Chin Boy."
They locked themselves in a nearby food storage room which was surprisingly clean (Malaysians are a very hygienic people, the Doctor thought to himself), and within half an hour of idle talk of what life was like on Gallifrey, the spray tan had set. Clara looked gorgeously bronzed, and fiercely attractive, having done self-tan many times before during her teen years and for weddings. The same couldn't be said for the Doctor, who hadn't encountered spray tan before. ("Not on Earth, anyway," he'd argued). The tweed-sporting man was unevenly coated in dark patches and white spots, a dark spot being particularly noticeable on his forehead. Clara burst out laughing and stifled it with the back of her hand. "What?!" he asked in a tone close to alarm. She giggled again, and patted his head patronisingly. "You look like an Oompa-Loompa that's been attacked with flour bombs." He frowned in mock insult, and she went on the tips of her toes to kiss the dark patch in his furrowed forehead. In a low tone, he said "I would make a fine Oompa-Loompa, actually. Although I'm not short enough for the job. You are, though." He winked at her, and she swatted his shoulder playfully. She smiled at him, a brave-hearted smile (brave heart, Clara, she remembered him telling her) and said "We best be off then."
They left the storage room as quietly as possible, and crept like timid creatures through the maze of hallways, stopping at every junction and the Doctor sonic-ing the way. After a long period of anxious silence, shallow breathing and false alarms, they entered the daylight of the jungle, and Clara clung to the Doctor's arm with a grip of iron. The natives were waiting for them it seemed.
A good number of them were eating, some sharpening knives, others taking the occasional swig of their drink. The group was all male; every member wore a bare loincloth and a necklace of what Clara hated to think were real teeth. The man who had taken Clara spoke first, the TARDIS translating into their heads. "You trampled our most precious flower. This, under ordinary law, would be completely unacceptable – however you are from a nearby land, as there is no other way of simply stumbling across the border. You were unarmed and had no violent intentions at first, at least, the girl didn't," he said, and chuckled a little with the locals nearby, "and we have decided to let you go. But first – do you have a skin disease, man? Has the unfamiliar weather triggered a bad spirit within you? And my goodness, the girl has obtained a tan already." He was in obvious good humour, and Clara loosed her grip and looked at the Doctor with expectation. He bowed, briefly introduced her and himself and apologised. The TARDIS materialised, much to the amusement of the men, who began to clap hysterically and said things along the lines of "Now hang on just a minute," "Sorcery! Take him!" and "I haven't drunk that much..." Clara laughed as the Doctor threw open the big blue doors and led Clara inside by hand.
She shook her head in disbelief. "Well, the old cow isn't so bad after all," the Soufflé Girl admitted, patting the back of the door. "They thought we were neighbours! Perfect shade for me too. I might keep it actually," she added. He raised an eyebrow, and smiled inwardly. "I wouldn't mind a bit if you painted your skin TARDIS blue, my girl," the Doctor muttered to himself. "You would be just as beautiful."
"What's beautiful, Doctor? Sorry, didn't quite catch that. You talk to yourself an awful lot."
"Nothing, dear. It's just a lovely flower to have as an emblem."
"Oh, okay. It was too. I remember when I asked the Cyber Planner version of you if you thought I was beautiful..."
And I do, he thought. You are the most beautiful girl I have encountered in all my travels, the most impossible, and the most perfect. And I lo-
His thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt, passionate kiss from Clara. His hands snaked up her neck and through her hair instinctively, and she clung to him affectionately. Time slowed down for the Doctor and the Impossible Girl.
She broke contact first. "Sorry – I – there was just this peculiar look in your eyes, and... Hey, you didn't flail and stuff. Finally getting your balance I see? Or maybe you were expecting it, I mean we are in your snogbox of a time travel machine," she teased.
He was about to protest, but smiled to himself again. She gave him a strange look at the lack of argument.
Just something I have always wanted to do.
