AN: I've made assumptions about the Maitland kids for the purpose of my main story, and those assumptions still stand here. First off, this is set an entire year beyond where we ever saw them in canon Who. (Also a year ahead of when we see them in my main story, in fact.) So right here, Angie is nearing 16, (and looks and acts young for her age), and Artie is 11. That's my head canon, at least.


Prompt: Clara trying to get the Doctor to babysit the kids

Genre: Friendship, Humor

Rating: K

The Favor, Part 1

The Doctor should have guessed.

He seriously should have guessed that she wanted a favor the second she called, said hello, and proceeded to ask how his TARDIS repairs were going in that overly cheery voice of hers. It was the voice, he reckoned. Each time she called and began to chat in that tone, she called to ask him to do something for her.

Admittedly, this didn't happen very often, and when it did, it was something really little. An answer to a quiz question, maybe, or- as happened once- a request to be taken to the previous day to attend a missed birthday party. And it wasn't like he hadn't asked things of her on multiple occasions.

(Clara, push that button and keep holding it until I say! Clara, there's a young boy over there who's crying. Run, Clara! Listen, Clara- I need you to repeat every word I say into this microphone in verbatim. Seriously. The existence of the universe depends on it.)

But this time...

"I really don't think that's a good idea, Clara."

"Why not? It's just for three hours."

"Because the last time I was anywhere near your family and friends, I almost got everyone killed," he protested, tightening his grip on the TARDIS phone.

"Oh, stop it. You know that wasn't your fault. I just need someone to be there and make sure they don't burn the house down, or something."

He leaned back against the console, still holding the cellular to his ear, and kicked back his feet. "That's a wee bit presumptuous, isn't it?"

"Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating a bit?" Clara thought out loud. "They're good kids and all, but the last time I tried leaving them for the evening without a sitter, they had the volume up way too high on one of their fighting games, and one of the neighbors called the police."

"Ah."

"Yeah, I'd rather that not happen again. I really don't fancy being called home during the middle of an interview. Especially not this interview. If the headmaster approves, he said I'll get the job."

The Doctor sighed, now slouching against the console. Clara had been going on for weeks about this job opportunity, a position at Coal Hill School as an English teacher that recently opened up. She said it was the job she'd been waiting for ever since she left university. He'd smiled at the familiar name, and encouraged her to fight for it. He knew how important this was to her, but the thought of looking after two kids and keeping them safe- when he felt like he couldn't do the same for himself, most days- was daunting.

"Don't you have any good friends to ask?"

"You are that good friend. All my other 'friends'-" he could practically hear the air quotes in her statement- "are very unreliable. Just put on a movie, and they'll be engrossed the whole time. And there's some leftover pizza from last night still in the fridge, you can just reheat it. See? No hassle."

"Hold on- are you trying to suggest a nine hundred and five-year old Time Lord isn't capable of cooking on his own? I'll have you know I've taken culinary lessons from the brilliant Georges Auguste Escoffier himself," he said, over-pronouncing the French name on purpose.

He could almost sense Clara's eye roll in reply. "And are you really going to cook French cuisine for two picky teenagers?"

"Artie's eleven," he pointed out. "He's not a teenager yet."

"Whatever, close enough. Angie makes up for how much of a teenager he's not. Just do the pizza, it'll be easier for all parties involved, and your hearts won't be crushed when they don't like your cooking."

"I suppose I have no choice, then, do I?"

"Land the street down," Clara said, ignoring him. "And no taking them on any adventures, you hear me?"

The Doctor made a mock salute with his finger, smirking devilishly. "Received and understood, Captain Oswald."

There was a short silence from the other end. She was probably trying to come up with a snarky comeback.

"If you could come at six, that would be wonderful," she said finally, apparently giving up on the comeback that was likely still brewing in her mind. "You deserve the biggest thank you for this." Pause. Long pause. "I'm sorry- now that I think about it, this is actually quite pushy of me. Just- just forget about it, okay? Maybe I can ask my dad. I bet he could pop over for-"

"No," he interrupted, sensing the sudden worry in her voice. "I'll do it. I don't mind. Don't stress about it, just focus on that interview."

"Oh, I could give you the biggest hug ever right now! See you here, I suppose?"

"Yeah. I'll be there."

She hung up on her end, leaving the Doctor with only his thoughts, his constant companion. And suddenly, he wondered what trouble he'd get himself into this time. But, it was just house sitting for a teenager and an eleven-year old- and making sure they didn't get into any trouble- for three hours. How hard could it possibly be?

TO BE CONTINUED IN: THE FAVOR, PART 2